More than once, during the 18 phone calls I had today, my brain gave out. It just stopped working.
I continued to take notes and make verbal responses, but my brain wasn’t making sense of the sentences that were being spoken. I had to write the words down verbatim and hope that my notes will be readable tomorrow.
On Sunday, anxiety grabbed my stomach for no apparent reason, while I was just making some food. At least when the anxiety talks (“I have too much to do!” Or “I don’t want to leave the house!”), I can reason with it, explain why everything will be OK.
But this voiceless anxiety is harder to talk to. I address it with meditation, exercise, and herbal tea. I say positive things out loud, if I can summon the energy: “It’s sunny and warm!” “I went to the gym – yay me!”
There is too much going on right now – the house, my work, the cabin, next week’s art show, the thousand conversations that are part of a normal week. I am working hard to keep it together.
I am concerned that I’ll have another ruptured aneurysm. The thought is like a steel band around my forehead.
I try to be nice to myself. I say NO as much as I dare to.
I’m reading a lot about the brain. It’s a resilient organ; it adapts. People with brain trauma much worse than mine have come back fine.
I will be OK. I will be OK. I will.
It’s just hard some days.
Today’s penny is a 2014, because it was the year before The Great Brain Rebellion.