Nervous

My heart races when someone knocks on the door. My fingers tremble when I sit in front of everyone ready to tell them to reach into their pockets. I can't stop the shake, the breathing that isn't normal, the fear creeping up and rattling me to the core. I'm nervous and anxious, more so than ever before. Summer brought boredom and boredom brings anxiety. The $18,600, The she-devil that pays me, Europe, the world and ISIS are all I think about, all I stay awake and then dream about. It's heavy, this fear, this pain that comes for me. I expect my plane to be hijacked. I expect my insurance company to deny me. I expect something bad to happen now because something bad did happen already. Grandad getting cut up by his boat motor has set off a series of alarms that I liken to events that will turn out badly. My heart isn't broken and my body is as fine as ever. I breath and walk and work and try to cope and still I just want to cry. The cause of the pain is the only thing that can heal my hurt but where's the root when the whole thing feels like a throbbing, frightening mass? Breath into a paper bag, burn sage, do the fucking things you need to do in order to feel better but I'm still scared inside, I'm still wanting to cry and can't find the tears to do so. I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared.