Dead arm makes me think.

I woke up one morning to find that I had slept on my right arm, which had in turn fallen asleep. I took hold of it, shook it about in order to wake it up. Then I let go. It fell straight down and punched me on the nose, making me laugh. My arm was not a part of me and had a mind of its own.

This monday I had a panic attack at home, thankfully my little man was snoozing away on his nap. All of a sudden I couldn’t swallow and my throat felt like it was closing up and I thought I wouldn’t soon be able to breathe.

It was quite obvious what this was, so I managed to calm down very quickly, but my heart pounded for a good while afterwards.
Similar feeling to the time when I fainted in a party, the horrible helplessness of not being in control of yourself.

It seems that every time I come back to the same root problem, the fear of losing control. I never thought of myself as a control freak, just someone who has got a very clear idea how things should be done.

This might be one of the reasons behind this state of mind I am in now, something as mundane as sharing a living space with another person and trying to fit their ways of living around your own is stressing me out.
I am not finding this easy, on the contrary it is getting harder and harder to adjust to other people as years go by. Almost like somehow I am not myself until everyone else is away and the present moment belongs to me only.

This raises the question is it the real you what you are on the inside, or how others perceive you?

At which point my head starts to hurt and if I was the kind of person who shares photos of cute cats this would be the moment. I chose a vintage slot machine instead.

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