"I'm spiraling" I tell you.
I feel completely empty. The anxiety is overwhelming so I try to fill every waking moment with... something. But there is a wall between me and everything productive and I fall back to self destructive habits instead. There's a familiar taste in my mouth.
I'm desperate to end this cycle and even though I can see the exit, with its bright neon sign, I can't seem to find my way out.
"It's like I'm caught in this terrible loop that's too painful to keep going but without the pain I don't feel anything. I don't know what to do without my racing heart and the lump in my throat."
Tears are running down my cheeks but those sobs that once wracked my body never come.
"It's not a loop, it's a spiral."
You mean it mostly as a joke. You're trying to make me smile, maybe even laugh. And it works. But the context and depth of your words are not lost on me and the deafening silence of the void inside me begins to quiet just a bit.