Day 5

I managed to go to bed early, and luckily, was able to manage the anxiety by about midnight. It was a little scary. I thought I might not be able to as it was constant. But it really is mind over matter. I'm queasy this morning and really hope this feeling of wanting to be sick and struggling to eat subsides eventually. Maybe when I'm back in the routine of working where I am generally more hungry than I am in the holidays. Anyway - it's off to work... let's see how I handle this.

Day 4

I felt the moment my hangover passed and the blah of my adventure sunk in. But I had friends coming over and I carried on. I hope no-one noticed my flatness.
I was in bed by midnight. But the sleeping from the previous night was even worse. A constant feeling of fever, and if ever I was drifting off to sleep I began dreaming of anything that was frustrating and anxiety building.
Finally I fell into a somewhat normal sleep around 6:30am. Have spent the rest of the day in my pyjamas trying to force down food at regular intervals.
Work tomorrow... bit nervous.

Day 2 and 3

On Friday I ended up picking up my friend from the station and hanging out with her. Things were good. We chatted until 3am! When I finally went to bed it felt like I wasn't sleeping - laying there with my eyes open all night. But relaxed all the same. I 'woke' at 5 to let the dog in because she was scared of the imaginary storm. And by 9am I felt as though I was ready to get up. We spent the day celebrating Australia Day by the water. It was lovely. All was good with the world.
Afterwards we went to a friend's party. I was feeling so good I decided to drink. I haven't been able to do that for a while now. But it felt good. I stay the night there. Again I felt like I didn't sleep. And then the waves began. Hot prickles all over my body. Nausea. Racing heart - but not the usual anxious thump, thump, thump, but so fast - like the roaring of an engine. Then freezing and calm. Over and over again until about 10am. Hot, cold, hot, cold. Much like the 'fever' of last time. But my brain had to not let it win. And so, I say I have a hangover and move on.

Anonymous

I vaguely recall loving the anonymity of a blog such as this.
I went to great lengths to disguise myself - my family, my job, my home.
I loved it. It was fun.

I strongly recall hating the invisibility of a life such as mine.
I'm calling out to be heard in the real world - be seen, be loved, be helped.
I need it. It's not fun.

I want to remember a merge of both of these worlds.
Where I can be invisible but heard without judgement - my thoughts, my fears, my joys.
But seen there. Where it matters.

(found this post from a few months ago listed as draft - figured I may as well post it - even if it's not necessarily what I feel now)

A New Adventure - Day One

A while back, a mini adventure was forced on me. I didn't like it. I could see how it was supposed to help me. But I just couldn't stomach it.

Today I begin that adventure again. I'm scared. But I know that there'll be a light at the end of the tunnel. I have to put my feelings about this adventure into perspective. I think how I recall the effects of the last time might be slightly exaggerated, and so, this blog post hopes to put things in perspective when I come back and read it.

I woke at 11am this morning. I'm on holiday. It's what I do. I faffed around for a while. Made a cuppa and some toast.

By 11:30 I had some food in my tummy and was set to begin the adventure. I finished my toast and settled in to episode 1, season 7 of Dexter.

11:55 and I'm feeling a little drunk. I feel a bit like I need to go to the toilet, but I've been three times in the last 5 minutes. The muscles on the side of my neck and throat and starting to tighten. Only slightly - maybe I wouldn't even notice if it weren't for last time. But, I'm determined to see it through this time. I'll be fine. I'm going to have another coffee and maybe a little more toast while I can still swallow.

12:05: I can get a handle on this. I'm good when I'm moving about. I just have to remember that 'drunk' used to be a good feeling. I can feel my heart beating quite strongly, but not quite as fast as the usual anxiety thump.

12:15: the sensation of needing to vomit when I swallow (due to my muscles being tense) is building. But I'm determined to not be anxious about it this time. Still drinking my coffee. Invited to lunch, but giving it a miss. Already feel like vomiting, without the gooeyness of love making me gag. Need to go to work to print some things, but concerned that the anxiety of seeing him there might ruin my resolve to beat this yucky feeling.

12:55: think the yucky part is passing - this could be good. Got a little burst of energy and am suddenly feeling ok about having people in my house (a thought that was making me ill only an hour ago). Don't stress. I don't expect it to last - I understand it's too early in the journey to have everything just turn out right. Besides, I still have to get to work and back without having a melt-down.

1:35: Driving to work felt amazing. I was on a high. Good drunk. Sang at the top of my lungs. Got to work. Found my bestie. Bitched about work and enjoyed every flame filled word. Feeling great. A little hazy in the eyes. But good. For now.

4:29: Where did the time go? Work was a little bit of a blur (not that I was really working - just hearing everyone's stories). Had a few moments of 'clarity' where I realised how I was overreacting about silly things and made some apologies for doing so. These moments were followed instantly by the desire to 'unapologise' because I just knew the person had wronged me. Not sure which of these states was reality. Apologising felt better. But, there's still something niggling at me that I wasn't the one that needed to apologise. Anyway, upon leaving work I had a sudden feeling of needing to be sick. That feeling that if I yawned or swallowed I might just projectile vomit. A familiar scary feeling. So now I am home, forcing myself to eat. I'm not sure if that will solve anything, but as last time I ended up not eating for a week I thought trying to eat might be the answer.

4:45: I have kept down a cheese toasty and a glass of Coke. Coke burps feel good. And the act of eating didn't induce any vomiting. So, while I still feel that same feeling in my throat, I think I might be able to keep it together. I just gotta keep looking at my 1:35 post. It's been a long time since I've felt like that. And I can't wait to again.

5:30: I've got school work spread all over the floor, none of which will get done. A glimmer of my normal self coming through. At least I've found the energy to begin something to procrastinate about. Until now I've not even bothered procrastinating. Now, to Dexter or normal TV? Decisions, decisions.

For someone who just desparately didn't ever want to be left alone, I'm finding it so weird that I have been alone so long it's hard to cry silently. 

Six months ago it was all I could do to cry without making a sound. Not wanting others to feel awkward having to deal with my pain. Not wanting to turn people away because they wouldn't know how to help. Not wanting people to know how much I was dying inside because their failure to offer even a hug would just make me want to die on the outside as well. 

Then eventually I found myself 400km away from anyone who could even notice my pain, and all of a sudden it doesnt matter how I sound. No-one's heard me when I've talked. No-one's heard me when I've explained. No-one's heard me when I've begged for help, cried, screamed, or acted on impulse. What the hell. I may as well let it all out. Sob desperately into my pillow. Scream into the empty night air. I cant look any more the fool than I did when he saw me last. I can no longer be misinterpreted, mistrusted, misplaced. Not any more than I already am. 

And now I'm here. With people who love me. And I don't want them to feel bad that I still cry for the people who will never love me. And so I cry in words on a page I hope no-one ever reads. Except, of course, that one person who should have heard me all along, and offered the simplest of cures. A hug.