Lost, Rotten, Afraid

Until I come off my emotional high, this is how it’ll be. 

Constant buzz and pain like my brain is expanding. Against my skull. Not so much a headache as anxiety and discomfort ache. 

My anxiety has gotten so bad these last couple days, the whole dad situation, not being able to sleep, having so much work, I’m okay sometimes then have silent freakouts where my breath goes short and I don’t know what to do but wait it out because nothing seems to work but I end up waiting late into the night and then the morning and then I find myself blinking awake and thinking, here we go again. 

Never had I ever thought a lack of sleep would do this to you. I feel completely unhinged and unbalanced. But every day when the time comes anxiety keeps me from sleeping. Even sitting on my bed gives me anxiety. Lying down with my head on a pillow and a blanket gives me anxiety. I physically cannot sleep anymore unless it’s a few hours in the early morning. 

Everything’s fucked. I’m in my period, I’m escaping my own house in the day to avoid my dad, I’m swamped with work and don’t have time to heal myself, forget to eat even, I’m having anxiety attacks like I haven’t in ages. I’m having depressive episodes like I haven’t had in ages. Suddenly the music I listened to when I was 13 and drowning makes sense to me again. 

Compartmentalizing keeps me from falling apart, I talk to people like everything is okay and I don’t see anything wrong with it except I know it is. I look at something and I draw it and I think that’s cool and then everything crashes down again. I’m in denial and I don’t know what I’m denying. I’m falling apart. 

I feel completely alone and I don’t know how to change that. Reaching out, looking at other’s stories, I still feel distanced. Seeing and hearing other’s encouragement and bonds, I still feel distanced. I feel like I haven’t seen another soul all summer, my own soul hasn’t been touched all summer. I’m rotting. 

I’m rotting. 

Overwhelmed. 

I was okay earlier today. I was actually feeling better, a little bit proud of myself. I thought things were looking up. Then night came and sleep and anxiety. 

I tell no one. My mother wouldn’t accept it. My father is absent. Nobody. I’m alone. I have been alone for too long. I’m rotting. 

Maybe I should just... recount everything that happened. 

I woke up at 11:00 AM today. I had had an emotional fucking breakdown the night before (or in the early morning, talking 3-5 AM) into a private DS journal I woke up feeling curiously empty, not dissociating, but strange because those turbulent feelings had gone. I even felt a little good because I’d woken up a bit earlier than I usually do nowadays. 

I lied in bed for a little while, browsing Reddit, still not wanting to think about what the day would bring. I heard breathing. Snoring. The day before my mom had told me that my dad wouldn’t be working from home, but obviously she’d been wrong. I froze and immediately my mind was racing. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been so efficient. I got out of bed and dressed and began to pack, I actually remembered everything I needed, I thought to bring food and water and pads, I thought to bring a hairtie. I thought to toast myself something and drink milk for energy. I did everything quickly, multitasking toasting and packing, within half and hour I was at the door and ready to leave in a dress and a backpack.

I’m glad at least that I remembered food. Oftentimes I’d forget and spend the day hungry and hating myself. That’s... something

I went to a sort of community house hangout area that we have. It’s got two floors and a bunch of stuff, a gym, a small theatre, a small cafe, a small library, a game room, etc. It’s a fifteen minute walk away. seemed like the perfect place to stay the day when I didn’t want to be home. 

The walk wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t nearly as hot as I thought it would be (being a Southern Californian that walk had the potential to be 100 degrees plus, dripping sweat, suffering, and sunburns). Instead it was sort of lukewarm and stuffy. I still ended up sweaty but it was alright. On the walk I remember worrying if leaving was the right choice. I knew my dad would probably get offended. I knew my choice would seem strange to everyone but me. I’d probably get criticized by my mom (I did). But I didn’t want to be in the house while he was there. 

I don’t know how my relationship with my dad will be from now on. I can see this lasting forever. Maybe in time I’ll be able to stay in the same room as him, but I don’t know if the guilt will ever vanish. I, who likely single handedly made his last few days sullen hell. Even though I didn’t do much, he still feels this way, and it kills me with guilt. 

But you know what? He’s the one who decides to overinflate shit, talk to no one, and drive himself into sullenness. Not me. 

I’m crying, sort of. This whole situation is some fuck. 

I’ll shorten the rest of it. I went to the community house, I found a nice quiet room, and I sat my butt down and drew for the entire day. This altwrnated between stressful and kind of relaxing. With my productivity complex sort of coming back I kept worrying if I’d done enough. But because I was overall running on fumes and depressed, I was less productive than I normally am. Somehow, I guess I came to terms with it sort of. On the walk back I congratulated myself for doing work in the first place. 

At one point someone started playing piano downstairs and it was pretty good, I wanted to congratulate them and ask what song they were playing, I was smiling to myself drawing. I went downstairs to see and I saw... an asian girl and her mom sitting at the piano. I ducked behind the railing and went back upstairs, feeling something close to disgust. She was probably forced to play, like me. Even such wonderful music could be played by unwilling, insincere fingers, like mine were. The rest of the songs were ruined for me. I put on headphones instead. 

I walked home, and the walk home was very nice, a nice feeling in the air, a breeze, the time of day when the sun will set in an hour or two and its nice and cool and everyone comes out and it’s alive. Everything seemed beautifu then. I felt good. 

I got to the house and looked at it apprehensively, and I didn’t want to go in knowing my dad was inside. As I was walking to the nearest park to wait on a bench for my mom to get home (more bearable when she’s there) her car appeared and she asked me what the hell I was doing. She explained to me that my dad had actually had the night shift, so he wasn’t home. I was delighted. I’d left home at the right time apparently; now I wouldn’t even have to see him for the rest of the day. 

Dinner was good. I felt truly hungry for the first time in a while. I actually wanted to eat. It was delicious, then I had watermmelon and that was delicious. I worked some more on my crochet project, some more on my 3D project. By this time I was starting to dissociate. Soon I realized night had crept up and everything. fell. apart. 

It is 11:34 and my brain feels absolutely positive it will not sleep tonight. And that’s why I can’t sleep, the stress and anxiety surrounding the idea of sleep for me. Nothing wrong with me physically. 

I’m so lost...