Eye of the storm

It's like a storm.

A storm blows this way and that - in an almost mindless way as it moves across the land. We are warned, there could be lightning, or tornadoes. There could be arctic cold or blistering heat. The winds could be strong enough to pick up your house and everything in it. After the intensity, swirling, helpless moment - there is eerie calm. Where to you begin to pick up the pieces? What do you hold on to? What do you let go of?

If I could stop my storms, would I? It always feels like I'm helpless to the pattern. I know what I'm doing could create an explosion, and somehow I know I'm choosing it. As I'm typing this I am upset with myself. When my storms hit, effects of the explosion leave me foggy and unsettled. It's no longer mania - that is at the center of the explosion, but it's not really depression either. It's regret. It's embarrassment. It's confusion. It's the fear I have no control and will certainly be back here again.

Yesterday my storm hit.  I saw it coming but my mind was everywhere at once and began jumping to conclusions and conspiracies. Imagine a huge "connect the dots puzzle " without numbers. As my my mind spins faster and faster. I jump from dot to dot creating an image that will validate my racing thoughts. I see an image forming. I can't hold it in. In a second I go from building storm to tornado. I'm pushed by my swirling mind me to be brave. Demand attention! Tear something up! Scream! Cry! The sparks in my brain set off the explosion. He is left with no option but to fight fire with fire, and my explosion comes head to head with his. For a minute or two I follow the pattern where the eye of the storm centers on him, and I connect the final dot to see the puzzle as the senseless scribble it really is. Chest pounding turns to steam and I'm left naked with nothing to hide my anxiety. I crumple and cry and react to his loud voice by shrinking just a little smaller each time till I am nothing. I've fallen apart, again.

I want to disappear - but he won't let me.

He pats the bed beside him and makes me sit, then folds his arms around me, gently guiding  me down till I'm snuggled up to his body  - warm, comforting, familiar. I want to move past the storm. With each shuddering breath I take he whispers "Sweetheart, everything is ok. I'm sorry. I love you."

His words guide me back, erasing the lines and pointless dots. "Why choose to be upset when things have been so wonderful? You know I love you, right?  I love you more than anything. I've only held one girl. I've only kissed one girl. I've only made love to one girl...that girl is you." And with every word from him, my mind calms and I come back together.

Today it's all so clear. I see the pattern and the path of yesterday's storm. I know there will always be triggers that will set my mind spinning. But maybe I can stop the next storm by remembering... "Sweetheart, everything is ok. I'm sorry. I love you."