Sometimes I have to stop.
And wait for the world to quit spinning.
Or maybe it's my head.
All the thoughts tossing and turning.
An ever-running washing machine.
But not cleaning.
Never cleaning.
Only changing.
One thing to the next, filling my brain.
The headache comes then.
And the shaking.
The need to get out.
The feeling of dread.
Stuck in my own head with no where to go.
I have to stop.
Wait for it all to stop.
Until I have control again.
Until I'm in charge of my thoughts.
Of my feelings.
Of my world.

Sometimes I can't stop.