The tethers of my sanity begin to fray. Clausterphobia sets in. Pacing and pacing and pacing – all within the confines of my head. Frenetically ramping up to a minor breakdown. Sensitive as a tongue sore.
Feelings, feelings, feelings – they pour out and flood the limited space. I sit down to eat lunch and start crying. The thick and slow tears. Usually accompanied by a tiny violin.
A short walk helps. A monarch butterfly cuts across my path. I feel the itchy edges begin to soften. A Paul Feig marathon helps. I feel the claw-like hostility in my gut retract. A trip to the park for sunset helps. A guy plays trombone and a small dog runs by and the flowers move in the wind and people smile from 6ft away. I feel the salve of letting time pass.