a perpetual sting

I was sitting on the plane back from Chicago; we hadn't taken off yet but the plane was slowly rolling its way towards the take off strip, each minute of anticipation making my stomach curl in fear. I have the annoying habit of always getting a dull headache every time I'm placed in any type of moving transportation, except when I'm the driver. It's never enough to make me vomit however, just enough to make me lost in my own world, absent of all other thoughts.  This happens so often, these panic attacks, that I simply have learned to deal, I've given up all hope of recovery in this lifetime. Instead I try my hardest to take long breaths and imagine each speck of pain leaving my body through the hole of my mouth, and my toes and fingertips that spit out the hurt from their bald tips.

As the plane hummed beneath my seat I knew it was time for take-off. I watched as the blades of grass turned into seas of green and the buildings molded into squares of land. Trying my hardest to ignore the ache rising behind my eyes, I pressed my knees into the crevice in the seat in front of me and felt another sense of pain digging into my skin...but I didn't mind. All of sudden a blog topic popped into my head, as they often do these days,... 

why is it always the bad things that take the pain away?

Instead of distracting myself with conversation amongst friends sitting in the seats next to me or listening to my ipod lying softly in my lap, I chose to inflict another sort of pain on myself because I knew that the only thing to overcome what I was feeling at the moment was something that hurt more; nothing good was good enough. The bad things make an initial impact on us and although good memories may have long term effects, it is the bad things that guide us through a temporary moment of torture. It's easier to believe the bad things, feel the hurt, and let all that isn't good take over you, slowly gnawing your soul down to its core. It's hard to explain but whenever these episodes pop up I feel the need to be by myself. I don't want to be reliant on anyone else; it's a battle that strikes me and demands my attention with it's numbing discomfort. And as horrible as I feel I don't think anyone can notice; as long as I wait it out calmly in my seat, the mental turmoil that clouds my mind is an inconspicuous flaw to the untrained eye. And if they can't tell then why bring attention to it, their words, whatever they may be, will only make it worse and any attention I receive only increases the already racing pace of my heart. But when does it go too far? What happens when everything we feel that's bad becomes the only thing we feel and all of our thoughts succumb to that one desire that we can't have? Do we fight and break through to the other side or take a step backwards before any of this happened... or do we do nothing at all?

good question.