…I think I might just explode.
Not into any angry tirade, but into a million slimy pieces splattered all over the walls.
If you’ve ever seen Galaxy Quest, there’s a scene where they test a teleporter on a pig, which ends up inside-out and covers everyone in pink slime as it explodes. That’s what I’m expecting any minute now.
Although today started off quite slowly, by late afternoon I was overtaken by this intense feeling of anxiety. A sense that there was something I needed to do urgently, but with no idea what it was.
And every time I thought about going back inside and doing the things I’m “supposed” to do, I was overwhelmed with a sense of panic and a desire to run away, along with a desperate urge to cry.
When I finally summoned up the courage to go into the house, it was all I could not to go to a million pieces. The energy was reminiscent of the pre-orgasmic tension that builds, although the climax that I seemed headed for this time was a complete annihilation, and not overly desirable.
I desperately needed to hold onto something to stop myself disintegrating, and yet being held tightly by P only exacerbated my panic. I was too big for my skin, and rapidly expanding in such a way that the only way out was to burst.
I felt like all I wanted for the world was to be in a strait-jacket, to be safe from myself and whatever I might do during my impending melt down.
So instead, I climbed under the covers of my bed and lay there with my arms wrapped around myself, holding tightly to the sides of my clothes, hoping that would suffice.
And I remembered to breathe.
In, out, in, out, in, out. Hopefully this will be over soon.
And in a heartbeat, I was a stranger in my own house, playing a role with people, places and things that were not mine. Why was I here? Would they notice that I was not entirely sure of my act? Would I know what to do next? Could I pull this off?
It wasn’t until P came to check on me a few minutes later that I realised that I couldn’t move my arms. (Here we go again.) And when I tried to answer his questions, all I could do was blink and make guttural noises.
At least this time, I still had access to my neck muscles as well, so I could roll my head around and make silly, incoherent noises. And while we were both standing there laughing (as best I could) at my predicament, ‘snap!’, I was back again. Fast this time.
Still a hell of ride though. Took me longer than that to readjust back to “reality” (whatever the heck that is these days).
Managed to get myself out to the dinner table so I could eat. Kept seeing things around me as scenes from a TV show – fully visible, but not part of my reality. Repeated urge to cry out in anguish (pain, confusion, torment).
And what do you know, I’m still in one piece.
With my guides just standing by quietly, watchful and loving, reminding me to trust the process, and that all is well.
Man, this is fun. Utterly IN-SANE, but too incredible to be anything but awesome fun.
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