Stillness. If there was one word to describe the bottomless well of whatever it is that keeps washing over me, that would be the one I'd use. An inability and/or unwillingness to move, an attempt to block out all stimuli that give the sense of time passing, of things evolving, of life going on. An anger that I cannot stop any of it, and then my own resistance to time and life- Sitting, sitting, sitting for hours on end with palms tingling and flesh crawling and heart/stomach/head aching. Angst when the door opens, when an innocent question is taken as a taunt 'can't you see I'm busy'- but with what? What are you busy with?

Then anger and evasion.

How to explain that I am busy with nothingness, that I am trying to will stillness all around me so I no longer feel, so that all this (whatever this is)  ceases to register and I am numb and no longer caring and the tingling in my palms is no more.