Stoopid Angst
I'm writing here because almost no one seems to look anymore. Also I always felt comfortable with my angsty self here and I just don't feel like I can let it all out on Facebook.
The short of it is I'm not coping. I'm not sleeping, I can't focus, things are not getting done and I have lost my appetite. The last thing is the most telling. I eat when I'm sad, stressed, bored, tired, paranoid,etc. its all about the binge, that is how I cope when the world is topsy turvy. If food can't help I'm really stuck for options.
I seriously considered leaving work sick but chickened out because I don't want to explain to someone that sure I feel like throwing up but it is not that tummy bug going round it is the fact that my brain is melting into a sticky goo that is sliding its way down past my clenched jaw to my poor mistreated stomach.
The worst thing is as much as I feel like I'm losing it I will teach this afternoon. It won't be great but it will be passable. Then I will go home, I will go to gym and I will get some work done. I'll hate it and I'll hate myself the whole time but I'll keep trying and I'll skim through.
Then I'll hear about some late twenties slob who is bumming off centerlink and how hard they think their life is. I'll wonder why I keep pushing myself I'll imagine myself in my happy place.
Is it wrong that my happy place is in a straight jacket hunched up in the corner of a padded cell? I think the appeal is the lack of expectations mostly my own.
Just over it at the moment, it will pass.
The short of it is I'm not coping. I'm not sleeping, I can't focus, things are not getting done and I have lost my appetite. The last thing is the most telling. I eat when I'm sad, stressed, bored, tired, paranoid,etc. its all about the binge, that is how I cope when the world is topsy turvy. If food can't help I'm really stuck for options.
I seriously considered leaving work sick but chickened out because I don't want to explain to someone that sure I feel like throwing up but it is not that tummy bug going round it is the fact that my brain is melting into a sticky goo that is sliding its way down past my clenched jaw to my poor mistreated stomach.
The worst thing is as much as I feel like I'm losing it I will teach this afternoon. It won't be great but it will be passable. Then I will go home, I will go to gym and I will get some work done. I'll hate it and I'll hate myself the whole time but I'll keep trying and I'll skim through.
Then I'll hear about some late twenties slob who is bumming off centerlink and how hard they think their life is. I'll wonder why I keep pushing myself I'll imagine myself in my happy place.
Is it wrong that my happy place is in a straight jacket hunched up in the corner of a padded cell? I think the appeal is the lack of expectations mostly my own.
Just over it at the moment, it will pass.