I'm trying to distract myself. With poems and songs and abstract art.

The title is part of a song I wrote this morning.

I woke up at hour intervals last night, feeling as if my insides had gotten caught and twisted in a plant riddled with thorns. My heart raced and I was drenched in a cold sweat. I'm sick, in more than one way. I think I've been ignoring symptoms of a diagnosable illness, as well as some sort of other medical things. Numerous "real" things. I'm hoping I can self-treat them and they'll go away.
Then comes the mental side of it all, the emotional side.
All the anxiety I used to feel every night is back, ten times worse than it was a few years ago.
I feel sick to my stomach every day now.
I can barely eat. When I stepped on to the scale this morning, I was scared. I've lost five pounds or more within the last few days.
Last night I wrote a three page letter to myself, just to get all my thoughts sorted out into paragraphs, instead of letting them keep frantically buzzing in my head.
So when I woke up this morning, heart still racing, still shivering and damp, I decided to write a song.
I ate a little breakfast (two pieces of turkey bacon and half an activia yogurt =/ ) and grabbed my guitar. I listened to the Mountain Goats for a while. Then I shut it off and began to write. At first I was frustrated, I kept scratching out lines, and rewriting them. Repeat.
Then it happened. Something clicked and I found a melody. A rough three-minute-or-more summary of what's been twisting up my insides.
It's deeply personal.
Moreso than anything I've posted on here.

That's why I'm keeping it to myself.
Writing, for me, is therapy.
Sometimes people don't need to see what I do...
I think I'd scare them.