Kat Atwell is a freelance writer, blogger & stage presence telling stories that deliver laughs, validation & community.

Mental Health | Wellness & Self Image | Experiential & Reviews

Breathless.

Last weekend, I got angry, truly angry, for the first time in years. It had nothing to do with me directly, but it impacted me more significantly than anything has in a long time.

It gives me pause to wonder why I don't get angry like that when I'm mistreated. I guess it's kind of like mess. For me, it's always going to be infinitely easier to clean somebody else's house than be forced to clean my own.

The thing is, I'm not really good with anger. I'm not saying I shouldn't get angry, because if anything, I need to express it more often. It's just that so much of it welled up so fast, that I didn't know what to do. Someone attached a balloon to a helium tank and turned it on full blast and inflated the thing until it nearly popped.

That severely fucked with my system. Body aches, digestive problems, mental anguish - they all rose to the surface, and I think it's because it was such a foreign feeling for me. I say this because tonight, especially, I'm feeling the after-effects.

I ran an emotional marathon.

Today I decided to be positive. I know I've read things where you don't choose to be happy, you just...be happy, but for me, I really need to acknowledge it and remind myself of it. And, it was a good day. I want to say it was no surprise, but it kind of was.

I enjoyed myself today. I saw friends happy, which made me grateful. I was proud of myself for starting this journal, for walking, for backing away from social media, for trying origami today. I came home, and my body just started releasing all this tension in a myriad of ways, and honestly, it's uncomfortable. But, the best way is through, so I've heard. I want to look up quotes to apply to this entry, but I set a timer for ten minutes, and I don't want to waste that time searching for somebody else's words.

My night ended with a miracle. It nearly paralyzed me, because it's something I've avoided with so much force for so long, and my world didn't stop rotating, and quite simply, I didn't die. If you live with anxiety, you know what I mean. You take something, the thing that gives you absolutely the most anxiety, and you assign death to it. It's not a conscious thing - and when you say it to yourself, you sort of laugh and shrug it off, but it's true. Somewhere, in the basest part of your being, you convince yourself that fear will kill you. And then courage shows you it won't.

Admittedly, I'm typing this while on sleeping pills, and evidently that makes me look at life with some rosier glasses, but honest to God, I can't wrap my head around my day, because it's that stupefying. I feel like the wind was knocked out of me.

My trajectory has totally skewed, and everything is coming together at once to remind me that it's still going to be OK. Wow.

I have the hiccups.

Ten Minutes.