one more spoon of cough syrup

Frustration makes me stress, and my body will fight to keep the upper hand. I'll start shaking, and ask "is it cold in here?" to affirm whether it's my psychological reactions or the environment that causes my shaking. My brother, in his t-shirt, will shrug and say "no". My shoulders are tense and I'm clawing at my hands in an attempt to keep them still. I want to tug at my hair, pull it out really. But I ball up my hands in tight fists and keep them away from my head. Keep looking at the screen, thinking "it's not going to be fine, it's not" on repeat, like a mantra even. "You should eat," my brother says concerned. I shrug, and say "later". Everyone is so cocooned and far away, and the match on TV is just a noise in the background of my thoughts. And I just really want to be floating on some water on a hot summer day with nice music in the background. Instead I'm listening to Cough Syrup at 1:00 am after drinking cough syrup that's been cooling in the back of the fridge. Less frustrated, but still stressed. I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here. That's what counts.