I enter this realm once again. Not for you, but for myself. For my sanity. I have neglected what I love, what I am, and what I long to be.
Much has happened during my sabbatical and I hope to return with only one word in mind: change. It is what I have done and it is what I hope to continue to do.
I wrote something today that I would like to share. I hope you enjoy. If you relate, I hope we can teach each other ways to cope because I am so often lost.
Thank you for reading.
I felt really ambitious today – as if I were going to conquer the world. Then it happened, a series of events that would lead to my suffering and ruin my conquest. I wish it weren’t so, but as I type these words, tears flow because I feel defeated and mentally exhausted. The sad part is not the defeat, but the uncertainty of how to cope with the past, present, and future.
The anxiety seeps inside and covers every crevice until it fills every empty space. It takes control. I don’t fight, I flee. I shut down and run. You can’t speak to me, I can’t breath, and my brain beats my skull in pain. For a short while, I am non-existent. I am lost in my own spinning thoughts. My eyes are frozen. My energy is expelled. I feel insane. In those moments, I would stand by and let you commit me to a mental institution. For in those moments, when I am frozen, I feel as though I am lost forever.
It’s brief, but it feels like eternity, and all this for only one brief explanation: too much stimulation.
I can’t process it all. I need time to move from one step to the next. I’ve had a few days in a row of noise – constant stimulation. I didn’t give myself enough time to breath. Because of this, I panicked, in a way. It was quick, but the results last for hours. I still can’t talk and I even forced myself to write.
What I can only hope will be a relief is uninterrupted sleep.
These attacks drain every cell and your only solace is silence – paralyzing silence.
They’ll label me. I’ve been labeled before. Major Depressive Disorder, Attention Deficit Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and the newly not so recognized, acquired at a young age, Sensory Processing Disorder. Yay. Oh yes, let’s not forget my anxiety – social along with general.
I feel like a badly labeled clearance item. Let’s mark it one more time, maybe then someone will take it.