An emptiness — hollowness in my chest.
The feeling of being surrounded by hot steamy air that makes it hard to take
a full breath.
I feel like I am in the middle of no-where standing at crossroads disoriented not knowing which way is the right way.
That fleeting moment between breaths where you feel like you are suspended in mid-air but falling at the same time.
The fleeting panic you have when you are under water approaching the surface but and can’t hold your breath any longer.
The eerie silence just before a tornado hits. You know something isn’t right but you have, no-idea-what!
It’s — Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming . . . over and over again just to stay afloat.
It’s the feeling of uneasiness you get when walking down a dark street alone. You can feel someone behind you. You don’t look back and you try to play it cool. But inside you are FREAKING out. Your pulse quickens — your pace quickens as you attempt to escape to a safe place. But you realize that you are walking on a conveyor belt. You aren’t escaping anything.
Recovery? Does it even exist?
Just when I believe it does; just when my hope peaks I realize it’s not over.
I am climbing a mountain, I look up and can see the top. I feel joyful and excited but within a blink of an eye, I look up again and I am back down at the bottom. Feeling defeated.
I thought once I received treatment that all would go back to normal. I thought that I’d pop a pill and the anxiety and sadness would go away and NEVER return.
The longer I travel this path, the more I realize that maybe recovery isn’t the correct word. Remission maybe a better fit . . .