A lot of times whenever I sit down and talk to my therapist I often at times can reflect and tell her about the moments where I had a breakdown, often telling her that I could “Just tell that I was on the verge”
But how does one explain these feelings?
On the verge is feeling as though you are standing on the edge of a cliff, half of your foot over the edge already – the arches and your heels remaining on stable cement while your toes hang right over. It is standing there and knowing that one simple gush of wind will send you over.
It is feeling the tears well up in the backs of your eyelids and constantly pushing them back – but also knowing that if one person says the wrong thing that it will release the tears.
It is a constant burden on your chest with an accelerated heart rate that beats almost too quickly against your chest wall.
It is sweaty palms – always.
It is feeling the quickened heart rate, the sweaty palms, and it is the burden on your chest – but you are also feeling numb and the constant switching between the two of them.
It is feeling the work you have to do physically piling on top of you – and you feeling as though that no amount of time in the world could get it done and knowing that one more paper is going to push you over the edge.
It is the feeling of begging something to happen, so you could just get over with it already.
Being on the verge means that you can feel yourself almost to the point of no return. On the verge it is the difference between crying and being okay. Being on the verge is knowing you just need one final push to send you spiraling. Sometimes it can feel as the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Some of us live our daily lives on the verge – almost waiting for that straw or for that gush of wind to send us over.
While we can be on the verge, we also know how it feels to come back down and to recover from our falls. That is what is most important to try to remember.