A Broken Feeling

broken

Today has been a strange day, I woke with a dizziness that resounded throughout most of the day. I set my mind to the menial tasks of housework and the shredder decided to stop working which didn’t help. I fought through the dizzy spells that came and I had a panic attack at the thought of calling in sick to work. The blackness returned and a spark of anxiety flared. You see there’s this boy that’s been flirting with me unexpectedly. One I never would’ve suspected but I knew from the minute he said hello that it would lead there, maybe my perceptions have gotten better or something. But then it got weird and now I feel slightly uncomfortable to take that next step with him. To meet up and talk, this anxiety stops me and yet the only thing I want is love. This has happened before almost a decade ago I worked myself up into a knot over it that I couldn’t eat dinner and I was nervous. So this time it needs to be slower than that. I know my psychologist will be impressed with even this step. But it is too long between sessions these days, I was getting better challenging the anxiety and fear but every now and then something tips the iceberg and I slide down the slope to the welcoming darkness. I told myself I felt completely broken. Something within me had slipped or cracked or torn apart leaving me empty.

On these days I hide in a cocoon and reach for help from friends that thankfully helped today in their own special way. I hid in a sleepy daze with my favourite music soothing my heart. Understanding the feeling of being broken. I feel incredibly silly now that I’ve come out the other end somewhat yet still these things happen. I am a strong, beautiful, capable person and why should a boy be affecting that? Or the current situation at work? To be honest the thought of calling in sick made me even more panicked. I am not having the best time there currently but I am not disloyal, I stick it out and go through the heartache and pain that my job involves mainly because of the smiles and hugs I get from the little people, they are the reason I keep going. Yet there’s a feeling that I’m stuck in my life in a quarter life crisis; afraid to change and afraid to stay the same. Confusion sweeps through me. I want more than what I am but it needs to be a gradual process. I am not capable of giant leaps of faith or more steps than I can cope with. I fail as I did today, pushing too hard and fast leads me in a giant mess of darkness.

yet I’m lucky to know a way out, instead of surrendering to complete darkness I can reach out and find people that have accepted me and know of my challenges. Anxiety this world that hovers around me and won’t let me grow and seek a normal life. it holds me back from my dreams and prevents me from challenging myself the way I want to.

Finally there came a point where I sought the words of Bridget Jones as a refuge of sorts to whittle the hours till my calm returned. The book being much different to that of the movie but still quite enjoyable despite the melancholy I faced. It was in whose line is it anyway that I found some laughter. No matter how many times I watch it I always laugh at the hilarity. It reminds me of the days after my mother’s passing when there were double episodes on the Television on Thursday nights and it kept me sane.

I do sometime wonder if maybe I’m just not meant to face the world like other people, this anxiety crippling my social experiences and keeping me locked behind my own walls. But it’s safe and they know me here. I don’t have to be someone I’m not or wear a mask I’m uncomfortable with. I’m hoping for miracles but maybe it’s not time for that to happen or there’s another reason I’m here. Could I be the miracle? Or just another messed up woman with no social life and what feels like unfulfilled dreams. Most times I can predict when the anxiety will strike and avoid certain things but if I don’t challenge myself I will never become better. My intuition has never led me wrong in the path but it’s still put me on this journey to self-discovery and panic. Why couldn’t the right man have come along years ago so I wouldn’t be facing this now? I am not blaming the male species for my inadequacy to communicate with them, but me I am at fault. Will it get easier? Talking to people and interacting and even these anxiety attacks.

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