Recently when trying to explain what happens in my head, all I could say was... I'm happy and then suddenly I'm not. I'm really hyperactive and I can do anything....for a week. Then it shifts, the brakes are put on without me even knowing and I have to sleep...for 2 days. This just so happens to be my weekend. And then by Monday I start the whole nightmare again. I dont dislike my job. I dont dislike working. I dont dislike my life. But I just run out of energy.
I start getting really anxious about being outside. I start to assume others are annoyed at me for some reason I dont even know if it exists. I start to overthink and create scenarios that dont exist and then I feel better, more energized and I map out the whole next week on my head. I pre plan my week in my head. I dont mind if the plans are re worked but as long as the blueprints are there I'm happy. I've organized my food, my alarm and my clothes.
Then I hit a slump..and I spiral.. downwards. I fall to the ground with a thud and it feels like gravity is completely against me. I lose interest in everything, I stop eating and I am in a complete zombie mode. My head is a concrete block and my body is weighted to the earth. Its impossible to move very far, to talk or to feel...so numb. I feel magnetized to my bed, to the inside of the house, the space my brain says is safe.
And yeah...I know you are going to say..well outside is safe too! Yeah, that's cool, but tell that to my brain, that becomes too fumbled and confused, and stressed for no real apparent reason...it cant recognize anything outer of the house as safe.
Because being out there means putting myself and energy out into the world, something I have so little of and also then I have to exchange some kind of energy with someone at some point and the thought of that makes me just want to crawl back into bed and become a blanket burrito. Because that's safe.
And I dont do anything except look at the back of my eyelids in dreamland. But even dreamland isn't always safe, because on the off chance I forget to slow down my breathing before I sleep, I am too heightened in my breath before I try to sleep...this becomes a nightmare in my mind as it become trapped in thoughts of an anxious kind where my conscious mind asks all the questions of the universe. And as my breath stays heightened, as I thought no tonight I'll skip the meditation, instant regret, as I spiral towards thoughts like... BUT WHY ARE WE EVEN HERE WHAT IS THIS REALITY AND WHY DOES IT EXISTTTTTTTTT WHAT HAPPENS WHEN WE DIEEEEEE.
My breath is so fast at this point that I wake up in such a panic, I involuntarily scream and get out of bed and....I run. I dont know what or who from....maybe it's just the thought of not knowing my true existential why and true wonderment of what happens once we kick the bucket ...but I fucking run and I fucking scream because that's what fucks me you up the most. What the actual fuck is all of this and why?
I settle myself back down. I either curl up in a fetal position and rock, or I cry, or I even shout WHAT BULLSHIT IS THIS YOU STUPID BRAIN IT DOESNT EVEN MATTER I DONT EVEN CARE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I DIE WHY DID YOU EVEN DO THAT SHIT TO ME?
So back to when I’m happy and then I’m not....my sleep suffers too. I could lay awake for hours, just laying there tossing and turning. I’m overactive in my mind, clearly not in exercise however quite overactive in my boredom eating. I get bored really easily, I like to talk my boredom out...maybe it’s so I dont have to hear my own thoughts...because they are cray cray and exhausting. I talk myself down constantly.
The little voice inside my head, its fucking loud. I dont mind it most of the time... I can convince it of things like yessss I need that cocktail or yessss staying up and not sleeping still works when you're in your 30s...(NOT). But sometimes it gets angry......shameful......blaming......even hurtful....its not very nice sometimes and I just wish it would fuck right off.
And every single day I am trying to breathe deep, not drink, survive, sleep better than last night (probably not) and connect. I grow. I learn. I educate. I nurture. And all of these have come with so much pain, self torture, self punishment, self shaming, self disgust while pretending every single day that everything is okay, that what haunted me at 15 when I met with grief for the first time is still lingering today, because grief does not have a time limit. And at 15 I realised that darkness was not my friend. It was indeed the kind of friend that gets you taking all kinds of bullshit medication and seeing a whole lot of bullshit psychologists who tell you that if you just got off the couch and got a job, your life would be better for it. Put yourself to work, find your meaning there, in a career that’s right for you...from an 18 answer test.
And at 34 I am still a mess. I am still exhausted. I am still drinking because I cant stay sober. I lose my bank card every 2 months. I have no career. I am my own psychologist and I educate myself.
In the end darkness became my friend. When I stared it right in the face. Meditation saved my life and meditating every night for 10 years allowed me to stop being afraid of conscious dream death and accepting all that is (still no answers but okay with that these days)
But I still have the highs and I still have the extreme lows. I smile every day because for some reason my life was made this way. I always say I dont remember life before 7. Until my brother was born I have zero recollection. Then it’s all very vague until 15. someone died BOOM here a memory of something not fun at all and quite traumatizing. And let’s erase all the good times. Yesss that’s what we will doooo!
From that day, at 15, the world stopped, and it took a long time for me to stop getting so dizzy and capture an ounce of clarity.
And the kicker is....I didnt change. I have never been any different. I’ve never been able to focus. I’ve always talked too much. I’ve always been the too much friend. The one who talks about the shit noone else wants to. The one who goes way too deep and dark on the way...I have never been any different. I’ve always been hyperactive, driven by emotions and intuition and have also burnt myself out quite easily. By trying to be some kind of normal, that doesnt even exist.
My head can be a prison. It can be a funpark. It can be quiet. It can be painful. It can be creative. But at least it's doing something. Something that's right for me. Something that's natural. Scary at times, but real.
The sad thing is. This is not unusual in our society. The expectation to be ‘normal' in a world where nobody is normal. It all seems insane to keep doing the same thing every day that causes so much stress and mental pain. I am unique in my experiences but not unique in the causes of my experiences which affects individuals widespread.