I really don’t like feeling like this.

Like I am ready to explode – shatter into a million pieces.

My pulse is racing.

I feel afraid…unsure of what to say or do next.

My head is spinning.

I want to cry out in frustration, pleading for some higher level of guidance to give me some assurance that I matter in this fucked up world. Praying for some sort of assistance in settling the rising panic that seems to be ripping my heart out of my chest.

Has my life been of value? Have I made any contribution to the betterment of humanity? Has my life been a waste? Where did my happiness go? What happened to my optimism? How do I move forward from here? And so on…

When I find that I have not an inkling of an answer to any of those questions, the panic amplifies and the darkness closes in around me. The judgmental chatter in my brain gets louder and wears me down, sapping what little energy I have left to cope with the basic functions of life.

I opened this post with intent of not using the “h-word” – but I can’t think of any other way to say it…

I hate feeling like this.

Three days…