Being stuck inside my head has never really been a welcoming idea, but hey it’s home right? Lately though it hasn’t just been a dark and dreary maze of horrors, it feels more like a plain small padded room… full of invisible booby traps. Maybe to some people the first option sounds worse… to me though, the second though, feeling trapped and alone, unable to wander and workout my thoughts because I’m stuck inside this tiny box where my mind cannot function and I cannot express how helpless I am… it’s the real worst case scenario and it feels like it’s happening.
A lot of outside influences are taking part in wreaking havoc on my mental state, my anxiety and panic disorder cannot take complete blame ( considering everything my depression is well managed ‘for this time of year’ compared to last, though I usually don’t FEEL it as much when my anxiety is so heightened). Everything that is emotionally coming to the surface with Mr. Mango, the stress of a very difficult behavioral rut with Buddy, yet another head/sinus cold/ cough hitting the family and a mountain of computer work to be done (editing, taxes, insurance claims etc) is all piling on top of my already topa-MAXED_OUT (yea a little prescription drug word play there… I haven’t completely lost it yet) brain.
At this point it’s like there’s an over ripe watermelon plopped on top of my tense and irritated shoulder blades. Not just a little over ripe, no, the one where there’s a already a dented and discoloured bruise in the side and if you move it you can hear it’s innards sloshing around. It really serves no useful purpose and it’s probably only going to get worse just being there as is. Unlike a melon past it’s prime though, throwing it out and picking a new one up at the market just isn’t an option (neither is waiting for a new one to grow in my garden, tempting as that kind of prospect may be in this day and age).
I just have to wait it out and manage my stress and handle my anxiety as always. The main course of action I have to take is to get up out of my noggin and start making the phone call rounds to all my specialists to go in and get looked at. I’ve neglected my physical shit for too long and this bullshit happens every time my head space gets this fucked up. I simply can’t focus on both and I think the remnants of the self harming young teenage me come out to say that the physical pain helps take away the mental fuckery and that maybe somehow because it’s not going away on it’s own, I must deserve it.
It’s not healthy and my body is paying a steep price. It’s time for me to get on the dreaded phone and wrangle some MD’s into giving me some answers and hopefully some helpful ways to improve quality of life. I know that physical pain has a huge effect on mental health as well and that taking the steps and making the efforts to bust through this frustrating time with the docs is really worth it in the end both mentally and physically. I’ve simply just blamed my brain not working on why I haven’t done it and of course as per usual, not like the offices themselves call and schedule their follow ups like I was told weeks ago…
I really hope as the weather is set to eventually improve, as I slowly see all my specialists, and a new naturopath, and as stuff around the home *fingers crossed* somehow settle down that my mind is able to open up again. As it is, writing feels difficult, forced and like a spew of words come out but that they are just garbled nonsense. It’s not so much that I need to feel heard by others (do you actually read my ramblings?) or validated in some way. It’s that I need to feel I can express myself properly to get it all out. If I can do that, a weight is lifted, if I can’t, it just builds more tension and shrinks that small padded room.
There is one sort of entertaining thing about my head at the moment and it’s not so much about whats in it, but about what’s on it.
I finally put the effort in to quickly straight style my new do. A new cut and colour doesn’t really change anything, but now that I’ve finally seen it more than just tied back in messy buns/ pigtails, I gotta say I love how it turned out.
I may not be welcome in my own head right now, but at least I have a bright and colourful reminder that there’s still a spark of me left in here somewhere.