Holding on to anxiety and panic and fear takes a lot of energy. But feeling elephantine amounts of sadness renders me immobile.
Today my body said no, as much as I wanted it to say yes. The entire afternoon was lost to sleep paralysis on the couch.
My inner child just wants to constantly be held and so I’ve been trying, to hold her. I cannot fall asleep unless I am in the tiniest ball, arms wrapped across my chest, gripping my shoulders so tight as if to say, somehow this will protect you. My inner child is too smart for that to really work though, and I feel hollow inside knowing little-me needs co-regulation. Needs mom. Needs another person’s voice, care, love.
The aftermath of an anxiety attack is an adult-sized hangover that little-me cannot manage well. I don’t know exactly what the anxiety was for. I don’t know exactly why the sadness exists. I’m not spending time trying to figure it out–I don’t even have that sort of energy. I just know my inner child feels deeply wounded, and it feels so exposed right now and as hard as I try I cannot rescue her. She needs help beyond my capacity.