I have a therapy appointment tomorrow and it is causing severe anxiety issues which in turn are causes a ton of other problems because my anxiety is what triggers everything else to say ok brain it is time to fuck some shit up so lets pull this wire and this wire and put it here who cares if it fucks up this this and this. I love when my brain likes to use these things to start and fuck with me. The therapist seems optimistic about this meeting even though I told her that I am going to therapy because I have to the last time I did this it didn’t end well at all. She was a nice person but it was hard to communicate with her. I will update more after therapy.
Today I will be productive and I made a to do list of blogs and Instagram and then things that I need to do today. I planned on being productive but my brain had other plans. I am still not half way finished with everything I wanted to do, but I washed my face this morning and evening, brushed my teeth and my hair which if anyone who has been there before understands and I know how cliche it sounds but it is true. I am trying so hard but everything feels like it is failing. I want my brain to work and I want to learn a healthier way of dealing with everything. I am just fucked from sanity right now.
After everything that happened yesterday I just kind of feel numb and this is without using anything I just ended up that way. I knew it was coming I could feel it after the amount of crying I did. I don’t like crying not because I think it makes you weak it is what reminds me that I hold too much in and if I found reasons to cry more often then maybe I would feel better and I wouldn’t focus on numbing everything. I put a closed sign on my instagram and my blog because I can’t think long enough to form one thought. These thoughts now are forced and I am trying to make sense of everything that’s happened. My brain isn’t working and Wayne has noticed and it worries him. I am not making sense and it is hard for me to comprehend simple tasks. I am really struggling and I don’t know how to keep focus and make sense of everything. I have therapy on Tuesday and I think that this is part of the problem. I am not ready for therapy. My life feels like it is slow motion and my brain is on fast forward 32x and everything is just so jumbled. I fucking hate this illness I just want my brain to function correctly just once dammit. Just one damn time I want to handle things like a person who isn’t completely fucked in the head, but this is my life forever and right now it feels like a death sentence.
I am going back to sleep that is most of what I’ve done all day after church and taking my daughter to get her nails done. I need sometime to clear my head without pills…. I don’t know if/how I can do it.
I got my hair cut today and now I’m obsessed with products and things to make it beautiful. I do this with everything and that is a big problem with my book I get so interested and obsessed and soak myself in and then it happens I just lose all interest in it. It’s starting to happen with my blog and that it is hard to deal with. I want to stay motivated and want to do it but at the same time I get so wrapped up in it I lose all concept of time. All of this stress is causing more issues.
I wanted to get my hair cut at Ulta but I had some issues that I couldn’t wait for so I went ahead and got it cut. I’m so tired of feeling like I’m the elephant in the room. I want to feel beautiful and normal like other people. I got in an argument with Wayne because I was just so frustrated with everything. I don’t know how or why he puts up with me.
I found something today that was a big part of my past in a positive way. These are the things that made a difference in my life. It involves people who made a huge impact in my life. It made me sad to see it I miss these people so much and no they aren’t dead they just moved away and are no longer around anymore. I miss them so much and I know they are tired of hearing from me so much but their presence helps so much. This is a short update.
My husband is proud of me but not in the way others might think. Of course he brags to people about my blog and Instagram accounts but he is proud of me. He is proud of how strong I am when I need to be, how weak I can be and the ability to show when I’m vulnerable. He is proud after years of hiding my emotions I tell him now when I’m overwhelmed when my anxiety is so bad I can’t actually communicate properly. He is proud of me because I communicate with him and even the tiniest detail can make a huge difference. He is proud of me for being open about my illness and sharing even the hardest of stories. He is proud to see the person I’m becoming and being a part of this amazing person he’s always known was in there but waited to come out. He understands when I don’t want to eat or shower but encourages me anyway with simple things that will make me happy about it. When I hear him say he is proud of me I get tears in my eyes because I remember the old days. He is proud of me and while he can’t combat things like my wife ran a half marathon with my wife took a shower for the first time in days. I know he is proud of me.