The immeasurable weight of words

I haven't slept more than a couple hours a night now, not because I'm afraid, but because I just can't seem to shut it off.  When I close my eyes, the words expressing how upset I am, expressing the things I wish I could say to the guy who got into my house, have been spinning around and around.  They spin so fast that it almost seems like cintrifigul force springs my eyelids back off my eyes every time I try to slip off to sleep.

One family member had painful things to say about our situation, devoid of any compassion, and not helpful in any way.  Those words added to the weight - there's a reason why someone can feel completely emotionally crushed by someone else.  I kept trying to shut it all down, think of something else, anything else, my 4:30 alarm buzzer looming closer and closer as the time ticked by.

The words kept me up for hours, spinning...spinning...spinning...even in my sleep, because after only a few hours I was awake again, thinking the same thoughts from before I slept.  There was no escape in site.

Since I'm unwilling to let a little B&E completely wrap up my daytime mind too, I tried writing again.  The nagging story edging into my editting time with my last book is very alive and well.  I've got most of it outlined out/written out...in my head.  With such a long commute, I have spent hours with the radio off, the only sound the tires and the evolving story, words pinging off the cavern walls of my mind, like a reverse echo, growing into something better every time I hear it.

Words have been leaving me dizzy, with a rolling belly all night.  But words have also been my salvation.  Focusing on those daytime words, they have become a paperweight, holding down my thoughts from the wind, billowing with my anxiety.  

If there was a way I could thank fiction for being a safe harbor, I would.  Instead, I am just grateful of a place to escape from all the things that have troubled me lately.