As December gets underway I am not going to lie I am struggling. I am struggling at work because of upcoming changes. I'm struggling with friends, because I am failing them. I am struggling with life, because I'm failing that too!
If that wasn't enough it flipping Christmas time, this is not my time of year, that is for sure!
**WARNING: This post contains mention on self harm**
I wonder what my life would be like if I sold everything and moved to another country, or even my lovely Bournemouth. I would give up my 3 bed house for a studio apartment. I would miss the garden...
What would happen if I wasn't here. Really would it change much about the world? I really don't think so. I mean sure, some people would be sad for a bit, but...
I look around, at the full bins, the stuff on the floor, the odd bits of needless stuff, the washing up only half done, the muddy cat prints on the floor.
There's today's missed tablets on the side, another sign of the lack of self care. I pulled out of a friendly evening of games because I just couldn't do people today.
I spend just over an hour on the floor this afternoon. As I lay there between fits I reflected on my current situation.
Here I am at 31 years old, laying on the floor fully dressed (in a jumper and body warmer no less). Tears in my eyes, yet an inability to cry. My hair covers my face, I can feel my breath leaving my mouth and hitting my hair. Some of my breath makes its way through and out but only to the blanket I have pulled over me (from the bed). The blanket acts as a cocoon trying to keep the emotions and actions covered and hidden from the world. This is a side of me I am not ready to show, its a side I never want to show, its a side I am embarrist about. It's…
It's apparently a side the internet doesn’t want me to talk about because my browser crashed 3 times in that sentence.
As I lay there, my hand began tapping, then hitting the floor. This twitching is my warning sign. It means I am on the edge of a episode / fit / panic attack. The most I can do at this stage is to let go and allow the emotions to pass through me like a wave.
This time I struggled though. My disappointment that again I am here. Laying on the floor, out of control, emotionally and mentally messed up, questioning whether I even want to be here.
The urge to hit myself returns like that annoying spot on your nose. It feels now like it is always there, just under the skin. Like the fool I am I think I can manage this by allowing myself to hit my face lightly. Quickly these urges become more violent. Fortunately the blanket falls between my fist and my face, providing some protection from my own hands.
These urges and actions repeat 3 or 4 times in that hour. Between lashings I consider the semi success that this is not as violent as I have been before, yet the overwhelming feeling of ‘not again’ lingers like tobacco in a smoker's house.
My body spasms, with my chest and stomach pulling me into myself. Almost trying to force a self implosion, ending my existance, which would allow the blanket to pleasfully glide to the floor and rest in peace.
I am reminded of my failures, not of any successes. Failure and sadness fill my head and my heart.
Out of tiredness rather than strength, I give in to the pressure.
The episode / fit / panic attack begins to pass. Slowly my hands rest of the floor. My breathing slows. My mind slows. My head hurts, my eye hurts, my arm hurts. I feel tired. I feel sad.
I am disappointed that I have again found myself in this situation.
The things currently getting me down are only going to increase in the next few weeks. Hopefully I can better deal with the upcoming struggles and difficulties.
Thank you to everyone that has sent supportive messages, sorry I haven’t replied to everyone.
Tomorrow is another day and another chance to… I really don’t know at the moment.
Unfortunately this week I have not been able to edit a podcast, so there will not be an episode this week. Another failure.
Trying to be positive about some of the nice things coming soon. Trying...
