I always think I know everything. Thought all is well. I’m in control. I don’t have to take my medication. Everything will be okay I can deal with it myself. I think I was wrong – some may not think so.
I feel all twisted and confused inside. For the last hour I had been curled up in an embryo position trying to push these anxieties out. I wanted to scream, explode, or tear me or something else apart. I suddenly don’t know what to do with myself. What do I do? Fix some coffee; check my email; what about the job I’m suppose to go to tomorrow; give Cody a bath; got to make a car payment; what am I going to do if I can’t work!! I don’t like working with people what do I do! WHAT?
This feeling in my chest is suffocating me and I take deep breathes in hopes I won’t die. I’m scared and I don’t know why! I thought I knew. I thought I was okay. Thought I could do it myself. I can’t. I need help!
People see me and think I’m okay. They look at me and say your attractive you don’t look like someone who doesn’t feel okay or is crazy. Your perfect!
I’m not okay! I’m not okay and there’s nothing I can do about it. How do I tell t hem I’m falling apart in my mind. I’m not your okay daughter. I can’t tell anyone. They don’t want to know that their little girl is not okay. I’m 57!
I just want to disappear in the darkness and hope to come out into the light okay. But I can’t breathe. I’m loosing myself!
I don’t want to deal with life around me. I don’t want to deal with people and be social by having to explain myself. I don’t want to hear that I’m not doing it right, don’t you remember, your wrong, what’s wrong with you, etc. Then, YOU’RE FIRED!
I’m scared so hide and I run. Can someone explain this to me? What can I do? Do you or anyone understand me? I’m crawling inside myself and I can’t climb out! Can you see me?
I realized that I’ve been delusional. I found out that people could tell when I’m acting crazy. Now I understand why I was fired a lot. I always believed that I was doing something wrong all the time. I actually believed everyone was talking behind my back or behind closed doors. “Oh, their door is closed. Their talking about it – they’re going to let me go.”
If I stop writing I might die.
I need help!
I have nothing to reference you to on this blog. The writing is mine and it won’t be the same tomorrow. Only now.