There lies
in the pit of my stomach a wicked, evil, twisted knot. It growls and gurgles, it shrinks and it grows as the stress in my life ebbs and flows.
I find myself grappling with increasingly intensifying bouts of anxiety as I am now in SHTF mode, my breathing shallow and shoulders tense, my concentration scattered like roaches in the night, mind numb and paralyzed with fear from catastrophizing a quite possibly inevitable nearly-upon-me future that would be of my own making.
I've yet to reach bitter, bile tasting levels of fudge me anxiety, but I imagine that too is not too far off. This is all par for the course. I go through this before every significant consequential life event.
I must remind myself to breathe, for fear is the great kind killer, and oxygen is free, for now. Actionable intentionality is the only way forward. Bismillaah.

© Laddies & Journeylmen