And as soon as my revelation hit my limbic system, she started to chime up, warning me that I won’t be safe if I change my reality. People like me fit into the socially-expected, societal norms. We stick with the status quo. It’s safe, tried and true, and manageable. But the epiphany is a fighter, and it grows in size and emphasis, until it wedges its self-composed shoulders in front of my limbic system and forces me to focus on its message.

I feel like a stranger in my own skin, in my own life.

He’s there. Breathing fire. Breathing fear into my mind. He has been subdued for so long, I thought he was gone. I thought I’d overcome his oppressive presence. My fight or flight reaction tries to activate, tries to save me. But is that actually what I need?

Where the monster hunted me each night, breathing fire and contempt into my veins, fueling a pulsing in my ears that prevented me from enjoying the gift of pleasant slumber. Unfortunately, this regression in my sleep is not a surprise. It’s been an extremely hard 18 months, health issues born of trauma have haunted my every minute, but I’m making a change for the better. I’m grieving it, but it’s happening.

Many times, the symptoms we are experiencing are our body’s way of telling us that something isn’t right, that we need to reevaluate our environment, our habits, our inner self talk, etc. All of these pieces work in concert to make us a whole being, and thus, can cause symptoms if something isn’t aligning with our needs.

Here’s to loving ourselves enough to let unfamiliar, possibly unconventional methodologies, serve our healing journeys.

He came nightly, forcefully interjecting himself, laughing at his tenacious pursuit of my sleep and sanity. His unwanted company ultimately preventing me from having a coherent thought, from soaking up the merry and bright that the holidays promise. The monster haunting my every moment, there to remind me that I am different, that I won’t find the tranquility I urgently seek.

Can he sense the desperation beaming from my eyes, from my heart? I slide out of bed, admitting that the pills did not take hold tonight. The monster taps me on the shoulder, I turn around slowly, catching sight of his satisfied smile.

Stress that lays thickly on our backs, our shoulders, gumming up our days and our minds as we navigate this fast-paced world.