Thursday, January 8, 2015

insomnia with a dash of anxiety

i was woken up by miss picklecat wanting to be pet and have me be big spoon.
when she'd had enough attention, off she went leaving me in a half awake stupor.
so naturally, i reached for my phone to see what excitement i missed overnight.

i dont know if it's technology, the constant blur of being involved in peoples' lives via words and pictures on a website, or the fact that my brain can take one person's successes and turn it into a downward spiral of hurtful comments toward myself, but here i am, 550am, wide awake, hating myself.

now, don't get me wrong, i do have the most ridiculous anxiety and am still working on it.  i deal with depression, ocd, and a very obvious case of adhd.  i take my meds for the above clinical diagnoses when i remember, but sometimes.... sometimes moments like these are far beyond medications.  moments like these are where i need to talk myself down off the ledge and just go back to bed.

but it's hard right now.
it's hard because i feel like a failure.
i worry about money.
i hate my body.
i worry im not good enough.
i worry about days and months from now with made up scenarios.
i think im alone.
i think im forgotten.
i hate the life i have and wish i had someone else's instead.

but here is the danger.... the pitfall of a culture obsessed with social media. 
we only put things out there we want people to see (unless youre me who has no fucks left and literally just spills every personal ounce of her life onto the interwebs even stuff dealing with bowel movements).
we delete the photos where we have a double chin, a fat roll, or where a few hairs are out of place.
we post the fun stories, the success stories, the vacation and concert pictures, our triumphs and our winning moments.
very rarely do we see someone as they truly are.

so yes, while i shouldnt compare myself to anyone (let's be real tho... we all compare ourselves to SOMEONE or SOMETHING else even if it's a former version of ourselves), i am flooded with images and stories where that is all i can do.  easy solution would be to read a book and get the fuck off the internet.  easy solution would be to know the truth about the internet..... but with lovely mental diagnoses such as mine, that isn't always the easiest solution.

so, it's nealy 6am, i'm tired, i feel sad, and utterly alone.
there's more behind those feelings than i am letting on right now but im thirsty and want some apple juice.  also picklecat put her tail right on top of my backspace key and i feel a little bad smushing it when im trying to correct an error.

all i can say is send some good thoughts.  i hate these moments where deep down i know better but the surface level, immediate kelly is just not embracing the whole and full truth, getting full on candy instead of nutrients.  this will pass since it does not fill, but i am not ready to experience the gut rot.

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