Untitled
My brain feels like static. It's been awhile since that's happened. I forget how long it's been since I've had this much trouble concentrating. Maybe it's only been a few months, the memory is dim. I just remember feeling like this all the time and never wanting to feel this way again. I remember the vast amount of time spent where my life was defined by trying to escape this feeling. I've been trying to focus enough to get work done today, but I need to give myself permission to let go for today and try again tomorrow. There's too much on my mind and it's overwhelming me.
There's too many things going wrong. Too many things out of my control. My hands are bound and I must follow directions. I'm remembering a day in high school when that feeling caused me to simply shut down.
I miss being able to trust my own instincts and not fear the consequences. I walk on egg shells all the time now. I can hear the advice from the peanut gallery telling me to dig in and fight. Fighting is what got me into trouble to begin with. Fighting destroys everything I try to create.
And lately I've been thinking about the Japanese adage "The nail that sticks up, gets hammered down." And somehow I'm thinking that might have come to summarize my life.
Yet even walking on egg shells isn't enough. The gentlest touch seems to break everything I do anyway. In truth, the things outside of my control tear everything down. I do my best and it doesn't make a difference one way or the other. All I can do is try not to make things worse and hope for the best. But that isn't getting the job done.
Right now I'm out of ideas to try.
There's a piece of that's missing, maybe it died off. I think my current sense of a lack of security is my own fault, because I stopped fighting. And to clarify, by fighting I mean being willing to abuse others and break them down until they were no longer a threat. The unwillingness to accept not being satisfied. It provided me with a sense of safety that is lacking now. The lack thereof leaves me stricken with anxiety and I feel myself cast adrift and at the mercy of its whims. Nothing else will provide that sense of security, certainly no one around me.
I've been trying for the past several years to be a more peaceful person, less angry. I've tried to be nicer to others, to understand them and be more sensitive to their views and needs. I can say with a large degree of certainty I've gained more insight, but in every other way paid a heavy price.
I'm not sure there's much left of me right now. It's a very existential question - what is me and what're just parts? I feel like that's all that's left right now, just pieces. Those pieces aren't feeling terribly connected right now.
This is a first, I'm so out of it I can barely even type. I'm forcing myself to write each sentence and risk trailing off and staring blankly for several minutes after each one. My hands are moving with little energy, there's just no desire to move right now. Going to stop now.
There's too many things going wrong. Too many things out of my control. My hands are bound and I must follow directions. I'm remembering a day in high school when that feeling caused me to simply shut down.
I miss being able to trust my own instincts and not fear the consequences. I walk on egg shells all the time now. I can hear the advice from the peanut gallery telling me to dig in and fight. Fighting is what got me into trouble to begin with. Fighting destroys everything I try to create.
And lately I've been thinking about the Japanese adage "The nail that sticks up, gets hammered down." And somehow I'm thinking that might have come to summarize my life.
Yet even walking on egg shells isn't enough. The gentlest touch seems to break everything I do anyway. In truth, the things outside of my control tear everything down. I do my best and it doesn't make a difference one way or the other. All I can do is try not to make things worse and hope for the best. But that isn't getting the job done.
Right now I'm out of ideas to try.
There's a piece of that's missing, maybe it died off. I think my current sense of a lack of security is my own fault, because I stopped fighting. And to clarify, by fighting I mean being willing to abuse others and break them down until they were no longer a threat. The unwillingness to accept not being satisfied. It provided me with a sense of safety that is lacking now. The lack thereof leaves me stricken with anxiety and I feel myself cast adrift and at the mercy of its whims. Nothing else will provide that sense of security, certainly no one around me.
I've been trying for the past several years to be a more peaceful person, less angry. I've tried to be nicer to others, to understand them and be more sensitive to their views and needs. I can say with a large degree of certainty I've gained more insight, but in every other way paid a heavy price.
I'm not sure there's much left of me right now. It's a very existential question - what is me and what're just parts? I feel like that's all that's left right now, just pieces. Those pieces aren't feeling terribly connected right now.
This is a first, I'm so out of it I can barely even type. I'm forcing myself to write each sentence and risk trailing off and staring blankly for several minutes after each one. My hands are moving with little energy, there's just no desire to move right now. Going to stop now.