I was overheating. My skin felt wrong. Like it didn't fit. The shorts were too tight and I pulled them off. My hair brushed against my face like a broom and the music from the phone speaker was eating into me. I was overheating. Sweating suddenly.
I got out of my chair and walked to the kitchen. Maybe I just need to eat. I hadn't eaten since noon or so and it was about ten something. I kept forgetting to eat or telling myself I didn't need to and lately I've been getting nauseous when it had been too long. I opened the fridge and pulled out a container of chicken breasts that I had cooked for the coming work week lunches. Pulled out a breast and bit into it, ripping a chunk off and stood there trying to chew it. I was dizzy now and the nausea was noticeable. I tried chewing for another moment or so and put the chicken breast back and spit the mouthful into the trash.
I was beginning to tremble.
I wasn't hungry. I was overstimulated. Overheating. Trembling and nauseous.
Usually I can figure it out. But none of it lined up.
I just need to cool down.
I walked quickly into the bathroom, ran the cold water, and stepped into the shower. The change jolted me and I felt my stomach churn. It was coming. At least I'm in the shower, I thought in scattered words and pieces. I pressed my hand against the wall and my legs got weak. I leaned on both arms, cold water pounding into me. Too much light. Too much sound. Too much on my skin. In my skin. In my head and my stomach. Too much. Too much.
I began to worry it was going to over power me. The heat had subsided for a moment and I lurched around slowly, bent to turn the water off but as I bent I could feel my stomach revolt. The first heave began.
Tightening. Releasing. Threatening.
I had learned a number of years ago that when I overheat, when I become nauseous, when I have panic attacks (which this shared a number of symptoms with) laying down quickly was usually the best option. Ride it out. Hope for the best.
Bent, holding my stomach, feeling the heat rise again, I stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and sat slowly on the toilet and tried to towel off. The towel was too heavy. The texture was somehow too coarse and too light. I got what I could off and threw the towel into the shower. I'd deal with it later.
I have to get to bed. Lay down. Breathe.
I stood slowly, pressing my hand against the wall and another heave came. I stood, waiting, but nothing happened. Using the wall to guide me, dizzy, nauseous, and burning, I left the bathroom, into and out of the kitchen, and into the bedroom where the AC had been running for an hour or so.
I sat gently on the bed, trying to keep my stomach in place and laid down, first on my back, then on my side. Curled up. The heaves were increasing in frequency. The AC helped the heat a little but it was ever present. I was clenching my jaw and I could see my hands trembling. The trembling had began in 2018 or so, after an overdose, and for only a second an image of a brainscan came to mind and I know I did damage that day that I'll never be able to fix but another heave came and I forgot about it. I didn't want to puke in bed.
My body was cooling, but the heaves came. Again, again, again. I didn't know if my legs would carry me to the bathroom.
Just don't get it on the carpet. Anywhere else, not the carpet.
Breathe.
I released my jaw, closed my eyes and tried to focus my breathing between heaves.
In. 1. 2. 3. 4. Out.
In. 1. 2. 3. 4. Out.
So on.
After a few minutes The heaves softened, and with the heat eventually disappeared.
I couldn't feel the suit of skin. The trembling had stopped.
Soon my body regulated and I was laying on my side, curled, and breathing for a minute or so longer. To make sure.
Good job. You did it.
Thanks.
I sat up. Moved my hair behind my ears, and looked around. Found my phone and messaged Grace.
"How are you?"
I took a few more deep breaths and slowly stood. I still had shit to do.
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