I find the physiological connection to mental distress to be strange and unruly. In sheer moments, I descend from neutrality to an emotional wreck. The wild sniffling ceases, neutrality appears to have returns, but then my stomach roils in discomfort, a bubbling reflux presents in my throat and my chest feels taut as if anchored to two boulders that are incredibly far from each other.
Is it simply too much to ask to be left alone? To feel nothing inside my living, waking body so that I can rest?
See here, the Vagabond For Honey 