Feel the Cold In My Bones
Seriously, I feel cold and my sweater is out and so are my full pants.
I feel really cold inside. The kind you just wake up and know that's it's one of those days.
I have become very finely-tuned with these moods.
It's not a bad day because something happened - it is just bad.
It's going to be that.
Like a sponge, I absorb everything fast. Old person visits make me sad because they look bored and complain just about health problems. Fights bog me down and make my shoulders sag, I can't stand up for anyone. I want space and lots of it because every sensory experience that I intake comes out as irritation and anger at anyone who asks.
Thankfully, I know how to express. I know how to explain and label. I tell my brain about all the evidence there is against whatever I feel. I tell him real life incidents of goodness and love and kindness. He hears but does he really? Because he is persistent and isolating and I think that's his strategy. To bog you down till you feel you're in a tower. No, worse. That you're here or Earth but everyone has this bubble around them. He then tells you why the bubble is important because surely nobody else can know what you're thinking, that's pitiful. Then you worry and worry and worry. Feel upset and upset and upset. Look for some more space.
Solutions, I know. Firstly, I want to punch everyone who is going to try and suggest solutions because I totally never thought of that supposedly unique idea. No, shut up.
I know solutions - walking, crying, sleeping, reading, doing work regardless, breathing, talking yourself down, running, good music, laughter, old friends, funny sitcoms, good food, sugar, writing, colouring, planning, cleaning/organizing - do you see a pattern here? Exactly, there is no pattern here. Which is why this is hard to solve. You have to figure out what's going to work that day, sometimes what you have the energy for even.
The worst part is knowing how privileged you are, sometimes. Then you remember all these things you're supposed to be happy and grateful about and things you are expected to do.
So, I mean.. a privileged mess is a better mess.
And from this privileged position, asking for less sensitivity would be too much or super acceptance to not feel bad and to roll with it might also be too much. I cannot help it though. I sometimes do ask for these things, I sometimes cry about not having them. Yes, instead of solution-finding and implementing, I do that. Plead for more normalcy, more getting on with my life like 'others'.
For someone feeling that they're slowly edging towards crazy.. this was a good post.
I feel really cold inside. The kind you just wake up and know that's it's one of those days.
I have become very finely-tuned with these moods.
It's not a bad day because something happened - it is just bad.
It's going to be that.
Like a sponge, I absorb everything fast. Old person visits make me sad because they look bored and complain just about health problems. Fights bog me down and make my shoulders sag, I can't stand up for anyone. I want space and lots of it because every sensory experience that I intake comes out as irritation and anger at anyone who asks.
Thankfully, I know how to express. I know how to explain and label. I tell my brain about all the evidence there is against whatever I feel. I tell him real life incidents of goodness and love and kindness. He hears but does he really? Because he is persistent and isolating and I think that's his strategy. To bog you down till you feel you're in a tower. No, worse. That you're here or Earth but everyone has this bubble around them. He then tells you why the bubble is important because surely nobody else can know what you're thinking, that's pitiful. Then you worry and worry and worry. Feel upset and upset and upset. Look for some more space.
Solutions, I know. Firstly, I want to punch everyone who is going to try and suggest solutions because I totally never thought of that supposedly unique idea. No, shut up.
I know solutions - walking, crying, sleeping, reading, doing work regardless, breathing, talking yourself down, running, good music, laughter, old friends, funny sitcoms, good food, sugar, writing, colouring, planning, cleaning/organizing - do you see a pattern here? Exactly, there is no pattern here. Which is why this is hard to solve. You have to figure out what's going to work that day, sometimes what you have the energy for even.
The worst part is knowing how privileged you are, sometimes. Then you remember all these things you're supposed to be happy and grateful about and things you are expected to do.
So, I mean.. a privileged mess is a better mess.
And from this privileged position, asking for less sensitivity would be too much or super acceptance to not feel bad and to roll with it might also be too much. I cannot help it though. I sometimes do ask for these things, I sometimes cry about not having them. Yes, instead of solution-finding and implementing, I do that. Plead for more normalcy, more getting on with my life like 'others'.
For someone feeling that they're slowly edging towards crazy.. this was a good post.
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