Hello dear reader,
It’s been quite a while since we last spoke. To tell you everything that has happened in my life since the last time would take a while so I’ll just start from now. Right now I’m struggling dear reader. Anxiety is a horrible thing, it stops you in your tracks and holds you where you are, unable to move, just held in the air waiting to fall and hit the ground.
That’s where my mind is at the moment, not knowing how to move either way. I must explain at this point that this is nothing new to me. I have Generalised Anxiety Disorder and am prone to bouts of depression. On top of this I have joint hyper mobility which means I’m always achy and tired.
Usually I am able to keep this under control. I take my meds, I try to meditate and I strive to be the most cheery person in the room.
But it’s a constant struggle, pretending to be “normal” all the time. It’s exhausting. This month everything seemed to pile on top of me. I find coping with change very difficult and a lot of things have changed. Professional life, personal life and the environment around me.
I’m seen as the one people can talk to when they need help. And I help. I make sure I’ve done my very best to help. And when they are all better I smile and encourage them to grow further. Then, at night when I go to bed and close the door; I sit alone with my own issues and slowly drown. That’s what it feels like doesn’t it. Like you’re drowning in your own sorrow. The panic attacks set in, the nagging thoughts repeat over and over till morning. When you get up, smile and be ever so happy for people.
Oh yes. Update on the Mr Gitchops situation; 13th February 2017. That was the last time I spoke to him. I was so tired of trying. He didn’t seem to care either way. So I did the only thing I know how when someone is being so cold and utterly breaking my heart. I laughed.
(Photo courtesy of google images)
Sometimes I feel like there's a hand in my stomach squeezing and twisting all the way up to my throat
The cold claws dig deep into my scalp releasing a stinging venom that trickles down my eyes and cheeks
Steel rods punch into my sternum with a force that could knock down the most muscular body
A large burning ball in my throat nearly chokes me to death and I swallow hard to shift it
That's when the despair, distress, alarm, fear, helplessness kicks in
That's when I feel I've lost all control
When I know I can't keep everyone safe
When my mind races with exaggerated scenarios and shows me scenes I don't want to think about
Oh I'm sorry, do I seem a little snappy?
It's ok, don't you worry about a thing; I'm fine… really
You are unique
But are you?
Aren’t you just like everyone else
You try so hard to be
You once didn’t care
A jolly laugh and scruffy hair
The phone that you spent your last penny on was once a cheerful plastic friend with a smiley face. He didn’t need to be upgraded.
Fashion was just a word to explain the cut up doll clothes and marker pen makeup
The random spinning and frantic wiggling has been replaced with a dance confined to a half meter square and involves self discipline and just the right pose.
Yes I do believe we are somewhat unique at first. We are free to be
But now? As you take the seventy third selfie of the day
As you adorn yourself with the popular fashion of the minute and force your hair to comply with what is on trend
Are you still as unique?
And is it all as fun as it was when you didn’t even know what a hashtag was?
What actually happens when you break from that group of clones?
Nothing. You don’t combust or lose everything. You’re just fine
No need to check social media. The trend today is whatever you make it.
The days hot topics don’t need hash tags and the food you eat is your choice not the most dominant “friend’s”
Don’t like that? Gone
Like that? Great!
No it’s not uncool. What does that even mean?
Fun isn’t it!
Now. Are you unique?
If I knew Henry VIII I doubt he would find me impressive
He would wonder why my hair was so short and all different colours
He would enquire as to why I am 25 years old and unmarried
He would assume that I am barren as I have no children
The piercings? “Why that ring through your nose is an adornment for cattle young lady”
At dinner, when I refuse to eat all the animals in the uk and send back the dairy he will undoubtedly accuse me of being an ungrateful little madam with no appreciation for the feast he had prepared
The post dinner entertainment would be more akin to a presidential debate or a fist fight. No doubt, I would argue my opinion ferociously and his majesty would have a heart attack at my shocking insolence and sheer cheek.
Yes. I think he’d rather like having me around ;P
(seems the times havent quite changed as much as we like to think)
A word to the wise
The strong man is never as expected
The weaker may surprise
Not arms nor legs nor shoulders defined
Not a strong brow or piercing eyes
Strength has not a physical form
It sits deep within the chest
Its doing your best, trying against all odds
He who is strong is unafraid to love
to laugh, to cry, to play, to work
He takes it in his stride, quietly being solid
He may not be the loudest or the daredevil
he may be the carer, the supporter, the safety of home
But he is strong, he is always true to himself
He is everything to those he loves and they him.
Yes, physicality is also strength
but don’t discount all others
you may find you have missed gold while mining for iron
It’s been a while since I did a thoughts and ramblings entry so here it is. You will have noticed the subject is “down with love”, there you have it; I’m terrible at it. I fall for the wrong people and I think I’ll just give up on it.
Today, a chap decided to point out how my opinions are always wrong and how I have social issues. He seemed to think that my inquisitive nature was reserved solely for him and that I was trying to make him look unintelligent with my “psychobabble”.
I decided to lay low for a while so as to avoid any more conflict with this opinionated little darling. However, so as no to worry my friends I notified them that I had not left the social media app I was using. Anyone who had an opinion on the situation formed the consensus that aforementioned chap is a paranoid egomaniacal bastard (well I’m not going to say either way) and understood why I’m avoiding him.
Then I remembered that I hadn’t told Mister Gitchops. If you have followed my blog from the beginning you will know that for about a year now I have been unable to break ties with Gitchops even though he clearly doesn’t give a hoot about me. So, I sent him a message informing him of the situation and I’m guessing he will pick it up on Monday. Except now my hormonal bitch demon side has taken over and I’m now sitting at my desk typing by candlelight contemplating wether or not to revise my message and add “not that you give a flying f%*k Anyways”.
I know, dear reader that this would cause a shitstorm but I’m tempted to challenge our “friendship” to breaking point and utterly stab myself in the chest by watching it crash and burn at my hands.
The mixed signals are really starting to tire me and I seem to be terrible at communicating with men recently. So, here is my question to you dear reader:
Down with love?