The feelings overwhelm me sometimes; to the point I find myself wondering if I'll find my way back to being okay. Anxiety swells inside of my body and I have this little voice in my head that asks, "Am I going crazy? Is the point of no return?" I get scared and I feel so alone; like there's no one else in the world who feels the way I feel...
The real woman inside of me knows that I'll come away from it; battered, confused, scared and trembling with remnants of the storm, but always okay. The "survivor" in me tells me that I can pull through and to just "suck it up", everything will be okay. I don't know how to experience negative feelings without taking it to the extreme in my thinking. It's always, "Oh no, I'm losing my mind," "Oh no, I'm dying," or something equally over dramatic.
I feel like if I'm not JUST happy or just okay, then everything is going to fall apart and I'm going to end up in a psych ward, rocking back and forth, medicated and living sub par. It's my greatest fear; perhaps, even more than dying itself. I fear losing myself. I fear going crazy the most because it's the ultimate loss of control. You lose what makes you you and then what...what happens to you? If your actions are no longer your own? If you can't decipher truth from lie, reality from fantasy? To me, it's hard to distinguish fear of losing control from actually losing it. I get so scared that I feel as if there is no coming back.
My body is probably the biggest culprit. Sometimes, it feels like it is betraying me. I get a sensation that I'm not really here; like I'm observing, but not present. Or the anxiety swells so much that I feel as if I'm drowning in my own emotions and I can't make it back to the surface. It feels like hell. And I have yet to figure out how to allow the emotions to come and go without worrying about the what ifs and the how comes.
My fear isn't founded. I've been through a LOT and I have a lot of insecurities and sorrows that come with that. I have to allow myself to have moments of sad or mad or frustrated and not jump to the conclusion that it indicates that I'm losing it. I'm still me, even if I feel a little strange or a little sad or a little frustrated or angry or even a little overwhelmed. I'm not losing anything; the fear should tell me that. Crazy people aren't afraid of going crazy. They're not even aware they're in that state. I think my fear should be my greatest indicator that I'm still me.
Thoughts aren't always going to be pleasant and happy; especially with what I experienced as a child. The everyday isn't truly scary anymore, but I've lived that way for so long, that I still have attacks, as if I am back in my childhood, dealing with the insane situations I couldn't have possibly understood. AND maybe that's why those feelings scare me. Because they make as little sense as the situations I grew up in. Maybe I never learned how to seriously deal with anything uncomfortable except to get overwhelmingly scared and THAT is the only coping technique I understand.
I say this now, but I know when a thought blips through my mind, I'll have another anxiety attack; I'll feel alone and crazy and worried and then...I'll come back like I always do. Because sometimes, it is okay not to be okay.
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