I know what fear and paranoia feel like. I know their physical manifestations: the increased heart rate, the cold extremities, the physical edginess, the fight or flight posture. My therapists made sure of that because so much of abuser's dynamics have their roots in deeply-seated fear and they can never really break their cycle without recognizing it so they can respond differently to it.
So what the hell was last night? I had none of those indicators going on. I just thought there was an outside chance that infection would take hold of me in the night. If I died, I was confident I'd be going home into God's loving arms, or if I'm wrong about that, have my consciousness utterly vanish and my body rot into worm food. Still, I didn't want it to happen, was sure enough that it wasn't happening that I didn't think I needed to make a visit to the ER, but wanted to keep an eye on things to make sure they didn't deteriorate. And I wanted to make sure I didn't leave any loose ends with the one on earth I'm closest to. Geez, if I had actually died after a small argument over something so trivial, she'd have felt terrible!
Now, to get the new day going, and leave the weird emotional infection of the night behind.
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