There is a shade of blue that the sky begins to turn when it’s officially autumn. No matter what the weather says, no matter how many leaves have fallen from the trees. The weather fools our bodies and the foliage, but never the sky. Mother Nature controls that. And even when it’s warm, and I’m wearing shorts, and the trees are still green…. that color is always the flagship for Autumn’s arrival.
I had an episode a couple of days ago. I sat in my bedroom, on the floor, renaming crayon colors in a box of 64. I had some interesting ones, although most of them escape me now. It was just an overwhelming day. I felt very out of control. I sat on the floor in the corner of my room, innocently enough, trying to get my puppy to come sit with me. He wanted to play. And for those who have never had a puppy, play = bite. I wasn’t interested in biting.
I sat there, feeling rather dejected. And instead of sucking it up, I sat there and started renaming crayon colors. Autumn Sky Blue was one. And thinking of that blue sky made me feel better.
The hubs came in and looked at me sideways and asked what was wrong. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was having a panic attack. I don’t want him to think that I’ve fucked something up and now I am feeling guilt and anxiety about it. The truth is that I haven’t done anything “wrong”…. it’s just that I feel “wrong”. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s wrong. It’s all perception. It’s all *my* perception. I don’t want him to think it’s his fault. It isn’t. It’s all me.
It’s all me.
That even kind of messes with me. I know…. I know. It isn’t “me” in the sense that I have done something, but… ugh. It’s like a dirty, wet sweater I can’t take off.
I hate sweaters. Let alone dirty, wet ones.
Soon enough…. It’ll be better, soon enough.