Photo by Yuris Alhumaydy on  Unsplash


It enters through my feet. It stops my feet from moving. It paralyses me so I am unable to get out of bed.

It begins to fill me. It fills me up to my hips. The lower back ache intensifies. The anxiety is in the gut. The IBS is flaring. The whole area is being filled by it.

It reaches up to the heart. The heart is filled with sadness. It aches. I feel the pounding repetitive hopeless beat. Slow. It’s just there, present. Useless beat.

But the worst is yet to come.

It reaches the brain. You’re consumed by it. It has taken over you. The thoughts come from up there. You’re sad, you’re pathetic really, what do you have to be sad about? You’re just a silly girl playing victim. You want attention. Your life is crap because you made it crap, because you keep on messing up. Just be sad, what’s the point in trying to be anything else? A façade? It’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.

I cry. I cry out loud begging for help. Get this out of me. Get this voice out of me. Help me. Help me otherwise I’ll die. I will go crazy. I cry. I cry out loud. I want it to go. I want to go.

I want to go. I breathe. I stop. I breathe. I ask for help.

Go away. Leave me because I have things to do. I have to make the children’s breakfast. I will deal with the sadness another time. I’m busy. I breathe. I ask for help.

It begins to drain out. My mind is telling me to get over it. It reaches the heart. The heart has become numb so it passes by easily. I think of the children, of work. It shallows down to the hips, the anxiety in the gut lessons. It leaves through my feet.

I get up. I get up and face another day.