Things are “better” than I could ever anticipate, ask for, or dream of.

(Most) Things are where they belong, I have somewhat of a healthy routine/regime, I’m eating & sleeping, Liam is growing beautifully and I’ve once again started reaching out to people whom I care about.

I’m starting to see things in a more logical and rational way (in my opinion) and I’m able to keep my thoughts in a much more steady, focused stream with less strain. I am able to remain in the present somewhat effortlessly, as opposed to tirelessly redirecting my attention to whatever task at hand.

And yet I am haunted by this ominous paranoia, my anxiety is at an all time high and I am easily overwhelmed.

Today was such a “perfect” day.

I managed to rearrange the whole flat to my true liking, and had the flat properly cleaned and all the defects attended to.

I was pleased, fulfilled, satisfied – happy but only on a cognitive level, the luxury of experiencing this emotion still eludes me.

Regardless, I was happy.

And yet I had the worse panic attack I’ve had in a long time.

I’m baffled. Amused. Acquiesced. 6:06pm


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