Hard time coming

When there is a hard time coming, when it is just upon me, the world seems to flatten out, lose colour, seem less real.

My face in the mirror looking strange to me, like the face of someone I didn't ever know.

Things that always bothered me at least a little (loud music, crowds, surprises, interpersonal conflict) start to become unbearable.

Things that never bothered me - things I find enjoyable, even - start to grate against my skin, like new shoes rubbing.

Born in the body, the malaise grows and spreads, ably assisted by the part of my mind and personality that loves catastrophe, and sends dark dreams of end times.

When a hard time is coming, my eyes sting with the effort of keeping them open to the day, while my heart stings with the painfulness of being in the world and of it.

Joints that swell and ache, muscles that weaken and tremble, a gut that clenches and spasms, a heart that flutters like a moth under a glass - these are the cause, and the symptoms, and neither and both. These are the markers I can point to, when I say, to those around me -

I'm so sorry. I don't feel good.

There's a hard time coming.


This is post 7 in NaBloPoMo. 7 down, 23 to go!