I hate mornings. I always have, and quite frankly I think mornings hate me too.
Every night I go to bed knowing that the Storm in my head is brewing. I don’t even know what happens to my brain while I am sleeping but there is SOMETHING going on there. If I wake up too early – regardless of whether I have had enough sleep or not – I feel anxious, nauseous, angry, confused, and agitated. It is a lovely combination that makes for one hell of a Storm in my head every. Single. Morning.
It is frustrating and depressing. I hate feeling so nasty in the morning. I wish I could feel as good at 7am as I do at 10pm. This problem has plagued me for as long as I can remember, even as far back as pre-school. It’s like as soon as my eyes open I am precipitately anxious. I am worried and anxious about my day before it even starts. It got so bad [when I was still working] I literally threw up before every 7am shift I was scheduled for. It makes no difference if I go to bed early, try to catch a nap the day before, eat breakfast, don’t eat breakfast, snack before bed, no snack before bed, bed location, gravol before bed – nada. NADA.
I have learned that I need space in the morning and I need to give myself time to relax and process the upcoming day – wether I am busy [that day] or not. The morning Storm usually only lasts about an hour but has been known to knock out power until well after lunch. Either way, it makes it very difficult for me to get motivated and moving. It takes so much energy to battle to storm and not let it get out of control (HeLLoooo morning PANIC ATTACK !), that by the time it clears I am mentally drained.
By mid-afternoon the skies are always clear and the morning Storm is but a memory. A memory I know I will repeat again tomorrow. I also find I need to be wary of evenings and certain lighting (i.e. The Keg’s dim dinner lights) because for some reason both can be intensely triggering. The storm can re-appear and riek havoc on whatever it is I may be doing. I have a few places I avoid – such as The Keg – as a safety measure against the Storm.
I find it best to not ignore the warning signs, my mind gets foggy, the winds of too many thoughts pick up, the spiddle spaddle of anxiety drops fall throughout my body and the tremble of nausea begins like thunder rolling in the distance. At this time it is a good idea to get myself to a sheltered, safe place quickly. Once in my safe place I can ride out the waves of the Storm, however long and exhausting that may be.
I am lucky. I [now] have a few life preservers that come floating to me when the Storm begins to flood, and good grief, does it flood. My main preserver is my boyfriend, my best friend, my soul mate – he loves me unconditionally and is not at all intimidated by the Storm. He helps to remind me that I am not my illness and I can [and am] capable of being loved. He accepts me for who I am and never judges me because of the Storms. He has taught me how important it is to feel loved and supported. What an incredible gift that has been. My second preserver is therapy. With [going on 3 years of] therapy I am learning to cope with the devastating effects of childhood trauma, sexual, verbal and emotional abuse. I am also learning to cope with my Fathers death which was sudden, unexpected, and absolutely crippling to me. Though distant, he too was a preserver and I lost him. Without my boyfriend and without therapy I would never stay afloat.
It is a battle. Sometimes it’s daily. But I refuse to give up. The eye of the Storm is fast approaching and I will fight it. I will fight to see the rainbow at the end.