The roof. Sitting on the edge, both feet dangling out. The 3rd time. How did I get there again? I don’t remember. What caused me to go here? I don’t know. I just did… And it’s scary how comfortable I was. Like each time I get up there, I’m a little more daring.
I probably should have picked a less visible place, but I wanted to watch the cars zoom by on the freeway for awhile. Okay, maybe I haven’t lost ALL my marbles. Some survival alarm in my brain still thought to send the code word. Man, what am I doing with myself?
More debris. Now I have a fear of stairs… Great. More trauma added to the volcanic ash. I can’t walk by a staircase and not think about where it leads to… Keep fighting. Don’t walk up. Another battle to worry about.
Also, panic disorder… Apparently, you can develop this if you have habitual panic attacks. Like after a certain amount of panic attacks, you become paranoid and fearful about when your next panic attack will come, which is basically another stressor that induces new panic attacks. Another downward spiral… Great…
PTSD. The symptoms?
- Bad Dreams/Nightmares? Check
- Flashbacks – reliving trauma? Check
- Angry outbursts? Check
- Distorted feelings guilt/blame? Check
- Loss of interest in enjoyable activities? Check
- Feeling “on edge”? Check
- Blocked out memories / blank spots? Check
- Frightening thoughts? Oh yeah…
- Lack of sleep? Check, Check, CHECK!
Article after article. Book after book. About trauma, coping with anxiety, various types of depression, psychotherapy, cognitive behavior therapy, energy psychology, neuropsychology and so on. Rewire. Reprogram. FIX ME. Because there’s something terribly wrong… I’m terribly wrong. No friend really gets it…
The fatigue is getting to me…
Last girl to sleep, first to awake. I’m not sure what today brings and I’m anxious in what God is working. Though I shouldn’t be. My thoughts are a little cloudier than yesterday. Is this just more of my sinful heart, wanting to listen to anything but God? Am I just submitting to wild day dreams without so much of a fight?
“Search me, O God, and KNOW my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there by any grievous way in me, and LEAD ME in the way EVERLASTING” (Psalm 139:23-24)
Deliver me from my own mind and heart. Make me yours: body, mind, and soul. Set my path straight before you, and take away the distractions and hindrances. Make it so nothing else matters…
This week has been fairly quiet. Which is good. I stayed home, did some homework, binged Netflix, and read a short devotional here and there. I wasn’t itching for people or to go out. I wasn’t bored out of my mind because my mind was busy. But then again, it’s always busy up there.
Then the fog descended. A little trigger leading from thought to thought to thought. Just faster and faster. The overarching theme? I feel like I’m incapable of doing anything. I went from the college me, holding down a 20+ hour job at an office, doing ministry work, full-time school, extra classes outside, volunteer stuff, to this post-grad me, doing absolutely nothing. I’m scared of failure. And I’m scared of not being mentally stable enough to commit to any job or school or even volunteer work. But maybe that’s an excuse for my fear of failure (which I know is a stupid fear). It deters me from finding part time work or studying harder or preparing for my interview next week. Suddenly, I can’t even get out of bed. It took a lot just to move or walk the dog. I’ve fallen into slothfulness, and I feel pathetic. And alas, the guilt. I feel guilty and ashamed because I don’t want to stay still and I want to move. I feel like I owe my parents to at least go forward. And for some reason, that makes it harder to keep going.
Breathe. Focus on the positive. Look for hope. It’s getting harder.
Sometimes, people ask me how I am. I don’t have an answer.
All defaults because there’s nothing better to say. Or sometimes I’m a little more honest and I say, “I don’t know how to answer that” because I really don’t. Most of the time, that is met with silence because the other party doesn’t know how to respond. They’re uncomfortable. And again, it’s somehow my fault.
Caution: Don’t ask a question if you’re not ready for the answer.
But thanks for asking, I guess.