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Mar. 9th, 2016 01:44 pmMaybe, if I keep writing it down, I'll figure something out.
I'm safe, I keep telling myself, I'm safe. Bad things can happen, stressful things can keep happening, I'm safe.
Today I told my psychiatrist that I feel like most people end up at forty with a career, or a degree, or kids. I showed up with a mastectomy and my sobriety. They're both laudable accomplishments, but they don't keep me warm. So maybe all this crying is mortality staring me in the face and asking me what I've done.
I can't find ways to frame my panic, I can't find specific things to face down or address, I can barely remember to brace my hands on the kitchen counter and breathe through the fear. I'm not losing anything, I'm not. Light's new romance, Abundance's new job, they aren't taking away anything I can't afford to lose.
I want absurd amounts of attention and focus, I know that. Or at least I believe that. And for some reason, I can't figure out how to feed myself the attention I need, I don't know if that' shitty wiring, shitty parenting, or maybe it's not a skill anyone has (oh, human condition, fuck you in the ear). On good days, I can think of myself as a high cost, high reward sort of game. I'm not having very many good days these days, but maybe they'll come back, and I can just read zombie novels until then.
I'm safe, I keep telling myself, I'm safe. Bad things can happen, stressful things can keep happening, I'm safe.
Today I told my psychiatrist that I feel like most people end up at forty with a career, or a degree, or kids. I showed up with a mastectomy and my sobriety. They're both laudable accomplishments, but they don't keep me warm. So maybe all this crying is mortality staring me in the face and asking me what I've done.
I can't find ways to frame my panic, I can't find specific things to face down or address, I can barely remember to brace my hands on the kitchen counter and breathe through the fear. I'm not losing anything, I'm not. Light's new romance, Abundance's new job, they aren't taking away anything I can't afford to lose.
I want absurd amounts of attention and focus, I know that. Or at least I believe that. And for some reason, I can't figure out how to feed myself the attention I need, I don't know if that' shitty wiring, shitty parenting, or maybe it's not a skill anyone has (oh, human condition, fuck you in the ear). On good days, I can think of myself as a high cost, high reward sort of game. I'm not having very many good days these days, but maybe they'll come back, and I can just read zombie novels until then.
