My frustration is that, when I’m sinking, what I REALLY want is someone to help me not drown.
The frustration comes in that suddenly, I have no voice.
Or maybe I do still have my voice, but it can’t be heard over all the fucking noise in my head.
All. That. Fucking. Noise. In. My. Head.
I’ve been sitting at my desk for several hours, swinging violently from being ecstatic, thrilled and ridiculously excited over the current wedding I’m editing (it really is fucking amazing) through to crying my eyes out and feeling empty as fuck (current state as I type) while touching on someone get me the sleeping tablets, pronto.
The Sleepers were always my weapon of choice; perhaps because they were easy, clean, produced the desired effect. Whatever the desired effect was.
Thing is, I want to shout for help. And even when I DO shout for help, there doesn’t seem to be one person with whom I can feel comfortable venting out everything. EVERYTHING. There’s always something to hold back, something to bottle up, something to withdraw. There’s always that fucking ridiculous guilty feeling that I’m being a burden – seriously, who wants to listen to someone whine about fucked-up bullshit inside their head? Everyone has worse problems at the end of the day. Isn’t that always the case?
I find that hard to deal with. It’s hard, when shit is hitting your own fan, and you want support. And you get that support, briefly, and it’s followed by “yeah, you have noise in your head? Well if it makes you feel better, my entire family died in a contained nuclear fallout caused by a 3 year old who’s mother was a surrogate to us all and now she has to go to prison while I have to sort out the funerals and insurance. Oh, and I crashed my motorbike into a bus shelter and now I’m being sued.”
We all have problems. But as life has gone on, I’ve never found it easy to just open up to people. I WANT to, desperately. But the time never ever feels right.
And then when I do feel like I’m shouting, quite loudly, it turns out that actually, I was barely moving my lips and nobody really heard.
Which makes me feel pathetic.
Cue more tears.
There are some major shifts going on in my mind right now, and I don’t know if I can deal with them. I feel very, very broken; the only thing holding me together is the smile on my face. If that goes for too long, the cracks start to show. Somehow I have to stay strong, but I’m seriously fuck-out of energy and strength. I’m not entirely sure where I’m supposed to summon new supplies. Or maybe I’m not; maybe I should just let this consume me? I don’t even know.
Oh wait, I can’t let it consume me, because that’s giving up, and that’s selfish, and that’s more guilt, and that’s more than I ever need in my life, ever.
I’m going to do that thing where I put it all down to being very tired. I’ll cry some more, I’ll go to bed, I’ll wake up feeling like shit, emotionally and mentally exhausted, but hey. Tomorrow is another day.
I just have to do one more day, each time. That’s all. It’s easy. Sure it is.