On Edge

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I have mentioned on a previous post of my fear of being alone and this was last year around this time around.

I would think that my anxiety and fear would have minimized by now, but I was proven wrong today. My husband found work out of state and due to economical reason, he decided to go. My mind immediately open the door to the dark room and walked in. While my husband talked, I could only shake my head or lose myself to the nothingness that was devouring me. I could not focus on his voice, I could only focus the fear that was creeping in from every inch of that dark room.

You see, I hate the fact that my husband will be away for so long and so far. Don’t get the wrong idea. I am not attached to him like a leech. We’re dependent and independent at the same time. The best way to explain it is like this:

My husband is like my protector, so when he is not around for a long time I get anxious. My anxiety reaches its peak and my thoughts ramble on. I walk to a store or any public place and I become hyper vigilant. I become untrustworthy of everyone around me. I feel vulnerable and exposed. I just can’t function.

In the back of my mind, I know this reaction and emotion is a burden to him and maybe not understandable to others. I know it is something I have to be able to take control of. Sometimes it is easier to enter that dark room than just keep the door closed. I know that I have to learn to be okay on my own, especially because I have kids. I have to be in control.

How can I when the moment I open that door I see a little girl, sitting down in the dark and hugging her knees. She is scared and alone. She wants someone to save and protect her. So I walk in and stay with her in the darkness. Stay with her in that fear.

Maybe with time I will learn and she will learn that staying in that dark room is not for the best. Maybe we will learn how to fight our fear and our anxiety and not rely on my husband’s protection.

One day we will..

But for today, I will stay on edge.

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Social Anxiety

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I haven’t really come to terms with the term “social anxiety.” Usually I’ll just stick to the phrases:

“I don’t like big crowds.”

“I don’t like people.”

“I rather be a lone wolf.”

“I’m picky when it comes to friends.”

Don’t get me wrong. There is truth behind every single phrase, but I leave out the most important facts.

1. When I am within a crowd, I start panicking to the point where my palms start sweating, my vision becomes a blur, and the air arround me is restricted.

2. I rather not like people, because the judge and jury within my head decides for me that I rather hate people first because I know they will come to hate me too…eventually.

3. I rather be a lone wolf is just a other meaning for I don’t want to get to close to you or you too close to me. I am too afraid to be judged. I am too afraid to open up. Lone wolf is the equivalence of some sort of fear lurking around.

4. Truth. I am picky with my friends. I rather not waste my time with those who are a hindrance, yet I don’t even try to set foot outside my circle of solitude. So, I make my excuse that I am picky because it’s an easy and acceptable answer than admitting that you are too afraid to even try to be picky.

Social anxiety.

I’ve already come to terms with my depression, PTSD, and anxiety. The fact that I have to keep adding to my list gives me chills…

What else is wrong with me?

What else do I have to fix?

What else do I have to change?

Maybe, it’s just another part of me that I have yet to accept.

Yesterday, I discovered that.

A simple party to others became too overwhelming for me. I wanted to escape. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t.

I had to blend in which I did. I drank a little. I laughed my way through conversations. I blended in.

Why did I feel so out of place?

I was blending in, right?

I was trying too much, I think, to the point where I just lost control on the inside.

I woke up this morning and I felt like all the energy from my body was sucked out. I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t want to see or feel the sunlight.

A simple party became a burden.

A simple party broke me down.

A simple party broke my balance.

To put it in simple words, that party wasn’t for me.

Take Me

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Wash the sand from my feet

Take your hands and grab my feet

Pull me in

Pull me deep

Take my fear

Replace it with tranquility

I will let you steer

See my vulnerability

Let me lay on your blanket

The sun warming my skin

Creature lurking underneath

Let me become one with you

Drag me away from everything

Take me away.

Pull me deep

Deeper than deep

Send me to another realm

You are the helm

The distant shore

Leave it there

A sight of sore

Let me look away

Let the tide

Pull me to the abyss

Watch Me

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Watch me stumble

Watch me fall

Watch me crumble

I have failed numerous times

I try to reconnect all the pieces

So the image can be picture perfect

How many more time will I fail?

Watch me fake that smile

and laugh that laugh

Sit in my corner

And prepare my slumber

When will I NOT fail?

You just watch me…

Observe ME

Collecting my broken pieces

Pick myself up no matter how many times I stumble and fall

Throw away that fake smile and release my lips and teeth

So the world can see my happy state

Observe me

As I am finally

Accepting

Loving

and Being ME

The Twelfth Piece: School

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As long as I can remember I was never good at making friends or being able to socially connect with others. I didn’t know how to start a conversation without concluding with a pregnant pause or without panicking to the point where my palms would be drenched in sweat. I never wanted anyone to get to know me, but I didn’t want it to make it obvious that there was something wrong with me, so I tried to find a middle ground.

Elementary was easy. Kids. Kids just talk and make friends, right? Well, I don’t remember making much friends. None, actually. I was moved to three different elementary schools in total.

The memories of my first elementary school are vivid. The only memory that really stands out is when my mother decided to celebrate my birthday during lunch time. My face was red with embarrassment. I wondered why she sent me to school in a red puffy dress. I wasn’t embarrassed because of the cake, the balloons, or even the Happy Birthday songs. I was embarrassed because I didn’t have friends to celebrate it with. My mother brought cakes and cupcakes for a over a dozen kids and I didn’t talk to any of them. The rest of the day seemed eternal. I just wanted to leave. Get away.

My second elementary school was the same. I was only there for a year and pretty much acted as if I didn’t exist. I wouldn’t play with anyone or talk to them unless it was school related. For being almost invisible many things occurred in third grade. For one, I had my first french kiss from a boy my age. He was labeled as the trouble kid. He was always getting in trouble with the teachers and just didn’t care for the world. For some reason, I was attracted to that side of him. My memories of how we started that relationship are hazy. All I remember is the kisses and the day I last saw him. We moved shortly after. I was ready to press the reset button.

My third and last school for my elementary years was different. I started fourth grade the same as any other year. I didn’t really talk to anyone. I was getting good at becoming invisible (almost). Until one day, two girls approached me while I was sitting down at my table in the classroom. They said Hi. I looked up and stuttered the same word. That was the beginning of something I never had before; friendship. Before I met B and M, my days were gray. I didn’t have anything to look forward to in school. I just went because I had to. Being invisible was calming because I didn’t have to waste my energy in trying to be something that I was not. After meeting them, school seemed brighter and filled with colors. When I was with them it was as if all the abuse that was occurring at home was nonexistent; being with them made me forget and I genuinely wanted to get closer to them. They were pure in my eyes and I wanted to cherish that. Even though I still had a shield in front of me, I tried my best in our relationship. My demeanor completely changed for those two years of elementary school.

Until the next phase; middle school.

That’s when my storm truly unraveled.

Goodnight

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Look at the pale orange warmth of that sunset

Penetrating through the window

Covering the walls with its splashes of yellow and orange colors.

Let’s tuck you in

It’s time for bed

Let’s watch the dancing colors fade from the ceiling and the walls

Imagine the colors transforming into stars

Imagine that you will travel far…very far

Beyond the dark sky

You wil fly

Close you eyes

Say good bye to the sun’s colors

Welcome the dark blue

The shinning moon

And the millions of cities of lights

Welcome the good night.

My Happy Place

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These past few weeks has been chaotic. My emotions took a toll on me and I really didn’t know how to pick myself up again. My thoughts were in a rampage and my body was betraying me. I couldn’t find my happy place; I was stuck in a fog and I couldn’t find a way out.

A couple days ago, I forced myself to aid my mother in law out in the garden. The first hour or so was dreadful. My body felt heavy and my mind just kept repeating, “Go back to your room.” I didn’t want to do anything. After a while, I found myself feeling at ease and smiling to myself half of the time. The sun was immediately covered by dark gray clouds. Drizzles of cold rain poked my skin and I could feel my darkness fade. For some, this weather can be gloomy and eerie, but to me it was the complete opposite. I looked up and felt cold rain on my face and my chest tighten, but not the type of pressure where you just want to hideaway under your covers, instead it was the type where your light was ready to burst out from days of unwanted incarceration.

I stood there and let the rain fall. I stood there and heard my son’s laughter. I stood there and watched my mother in law rushing to the door trying to avoid the rain. I stood there and closed my eyes and breathed.

I inhaled as much air as I could and exhaled. I repeated the procedure a couple more times.

I opened my eyes and saw my son in joy.

What a beautiful smile I thought to myself.

I walked towards him and picked him up and kissed him. I know I haven’t held him or kissed him since my episode began.

I held him close and did the same when my daughter arrived from school shortly after.

I get lost within my depression. My sight, emotions, and thoughts become thick like a fog and prevents visibility…almost all visibility. There is always a hidden escape from all the chaos. I just have to find my way to it.

I found it this time. It took me a while, but I found it.

Once again, I found my happy place.