Anxiety Rambling

Today has been shit. I’ve layed in bed all day eating Xanax to curb even a little of my anxiety and scrolling through Facebook in between naps.

Today has been the kind of day where I just can’t breathe, even a little.  A day where it would just be nice for someone to say “Hey Tiny, I care. I’m here. I love you.”

That would be too much to ask for though, right? No, it isn’t. Today a friend messaged me just that. And it was nice and supportive and I appreciate knowing she’s thinking about me, but I just want someone. What is this unrealistic need I have to have a partner? Why do I so desperately need someone that I can belong to? Why is it so important for me to be a part of a team? I think I just want someone consistent to witness my life.

Now that I’ve started this awful cycle back up of up all nights and sleep half the days, I guess I’ll just try to get it all out on here.

So, let’s talk about my anxiety for a minute. The problem is I can’t even tell you what is triggering me lately. Life, and just everything about it is insane for me. You see, the thing is I know I have a lot of issues, I just can’t seem to figure out how to handle them all at once and that is most definitely playing a part in my failed relationships. Also, I kinda need for people to tell me why they left and they just don’t. That doesn’t really help me in my healing, but I guess they’re under no obligation.

Today I feel like I just can’t breathe. My heart feels like it does when that unexpected drop happens on a roller coaster and my chest feels like there’s an elephant sitting on it. My mind just won’t shut up. It’s rapidly flipping from topic to topic and every awful experience is playing like an old fashioned picture show with no sounds. Just images that slightly move to gain focus.

My service dog just doesn’t know what to do with me at this point. She comes and lays on top of me and nudges me to force me to pet her and I just have barely been able to do that.

I think having anxiety and a brain injury just is too much sometimes. There are SO MANY variables that go into my mental health that nothing can really be pinpointed. The chemistry of my brain just has kinda been fucked. After I had brain surgery I would go into these fits of rage, like the tragic ugly kind of rage. I’ve broken quite a few things. I’ve worked so hard to have self control and I’m proud of myself with dealing with unprovoked anger. Then, you see, I’m angry because I’m angry for no reason.

While my brain was healing I would start uncontrollably laughing. Like, inappropriately uncontrollably laughing. Then I would just cry and cry and cry. I was so unbelievably frustrated because I was completely unable to regulate my emotions.

Now, for the most part I can control my anger. I rarely raise my voice and I am not throwing things around. I don’t cry anymore, hardly ever, unless I’m proud of something. But you know, I think even the uncontrollable laughing was better than what I have now. I can’t tell you the last time I actually laughed. Ya know, like a good laugh. That’s sad.

That’s really fucking sad.

The doctors haven’t been much help in the medication department. The VA is too fucking worried about “protocol” than actually helping veterans get the care they need. So, resorting to self medication with Jack and Ginger, or Vodka sodas is what I’ve been doing just so I can shut it all off for a little while. Destructive, I know. I don’t always drink to shut it all off, sometimes I do just because I like it and I want to.

Also, I really fucking suck at taking my medication properly when I do have it. Even with alarms, I just suck.

So, I’ve decided I need to start something productive to keep me busy.

Today, in between Facebook scrolls and naps I researched some places to learn a new language over the summer. Also, I need to check out MakeICT because I have a lot of projects I want to complete. So, hopefully forcing myself to get up and go do something anyway will help.

I’m trying. Sometimes I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I really am doing the best I can.

I wish I had something profound to say. I wish I had some clarity, or even a little insight, but I just fucking don’t. I know I need to get back to doing the things I love. I’ve gotta make some lamps this week, and finish the sewing project I was working on for my now ex girlfriend’s birthday present. I think that gives me anxiety though too, because we rarely talk anymore. So, maybe that isn’t such a healthy thing to do. Make things for your ex, i mean. Maybe one day we’ll be friends or something like it and I can give it to her then.

Once the pool is ready I’ll be spending a lot of time in the water which always helps me, but then brings on its own uncomfortable feelings of dysphoria because nothing has gone as planned this year and I haven’t been able to have my surgery. That’s a whole different story.

I’m rambling. I better go.