It hasn't been all that long since the last meeting. I hadn't asked for it to return. I had hoped to never see it again. I thought I had locked the doors and closed the windows and whispered 'go away' enough times that it would admit defeat and leave, never to return.
And yet despite my best efforts, despite my protestations, I have realised that a very familiar acquaintance has come stealthily sneaking back into my life and home. It has made it's presence known in the old, familiar ways.
The insomnia.
The broken sleep, punctuated with strange and distressing dreams.
The slow, creeping anxiety which floats increasingly present as a background hum, threatening to deepen and deepen further into panic.
The lethargy, the fatigue.
The heavy, heavy, heavy weight of my body, moving as though through a fog.
The aches and pains and thudding head and heart.
The guilt.
The ruminations- endless loops of repeated, useless thought, which ultimately lead to nowhere.
I've tried to deny it's existence. Tried to will it away. Tried and failed. It's returned. It's teeth nip at my heels. It's breath, panting and fetid, on the back of my neck. It's iron grip around my chest, squeezing out light and hope. It's essence, oozing into my very pores, contaminating me from the inside out.
You're back. I
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