I for real threw it away and not on purpose. I was just so scattered, I’d balled it up in the store bag and threw it out. I couldn’t sleep thinking about where I’d put it. At 3 am, I woke up to find my medicine deep in the garbage and then had to go out to check to makes sure the freezer was still working.
That is unfortunately how anxiety works. It keeps me up, even with the medicine, worrying about things I can control so that I don’t lose my marbles over the things I can’t.
I can control the freezer melting. I cannot control the rest.
A lot of my life just feels so out of control. Like I am in a runaway car that someone else has control over. And they’ve taken all the wrong turns. I’m not even seatbelted in the back seat and I am being violently flung around, without so much as a worry about my safety. I feel as though I am calling out where I want to go and what I need and the driver isn’t hearing me. And the bruises created by it never seem to heal. I don’t understand why no one can hear me. I don’t understand why my needs and wants don’t matter.
I feel very, very out of control.
I am sure if you use Facebook or a smart phone you know all about the “memories” apps and such. I used to just love Timehop. Something I looked forward to peeking at every day. I had to delete it. All those memories are now tainted and I can hardly stand to look at this history that I thought was so good. It turns out, it was much different. Everyone remembers all these things different, all I can remember is what was happening when I wasn’t looking. My anxiety is to blame for that too, to a point. I was so anxious and sad all the time, I missed what was happening right in front of my face.
The last month or so I had done well at coping. Taking yoga and taking time for self-care but this last week has been tremendously difficult. I don’t know if it’s the lack of good sleep (I am sleeping, I fall asleep easily. I do not stay asleep) or that I have snuck a few cookies in here and there. It might be that I haven’t had a chance to breathe in-between juggling the new jobs and the kids and the stuff I do from home. It might be that it’s the anniversary of things. It might be that there is still a unfillable hole. It could be the impending doom I feel. The waiting for the shoe to drop. I might be the anxiety telling me I am an awful human for this to have happened. I don’t know. I don’t know why I can’t shake the feels.
I am struggling to get back on track. I have a two-week break from therapy. First, she is on vacation and then we are. I should have asked for another kind of medicine the last time I was there too but there are still little voices telling me how bad it is to take the meds. But, fuck, I am tired of feeling sad and worse yet, trying to hide it. Like it’s fun to be the girl who showers to muffle the sounds? And the sounds are awful. When your own sounds scare you, it’s bad. And this isn’t to say there haven’t been happy moments. There have been. But it was like a switch turned on this week. I wish I could find the trigger so I can avoid it.
I think people see me as always sad or upset or anxious and then when I am “happy”, it’s just a façade. It’s not. Honestly, there is much happy in my life. So very much. I write for therapy. I have for years. That doesn’t mean there isn’t any joy. There is. It’s just something I need to get out and share. I’ve always done it. Mostly because I thought it might help someone else but mostly, it’s helped me. Until recently. I keep typing hoping it will help me turn the corner on all this but what I keep seeing is the window I gave to cruel people and how they used it to destroy parts of my life. I often have wondered if I should only share my highlights. Because what have I done by sharing my sad?
A friend said this week, “it’s like they got everything you ever wanted” and the truth is they did. I lost so much fighting for it all back too. It’s no wonder I feel sad and out of control. I lost so much of what was important to me. And it’s painful and sad. And for what? I don’t really know. I feel lucky that I have some people I can bounce all these feelings off with. Even when it results in me crying in the makeup aisle at Target. I worry though, that I am starting to sound so much like a broken record, that they’ll stop listening. I have to figure out how to get out of this hole, alone, before I actually am alone.
I don’t feel brave or strong these days. And I am tired of the rollercoaster of emotions.