The Fear of the Unknown

So, I’ve been relatively quiet the past week or so..

Truth is, I’ve been struggling; I’m not coping.

I am so utterly depressed that it is paralysing. As dramatic as that sounds, I’ve never felt anything like it.

I literally cannot move.

I just have no energy or strength, even thinking about rising out of this sofa is debilitating.

I am so, uncontrollably sad.

I mentioned in a previous post that the police had contacted me concerning something that had happened 14 years ago to an old school friend, asking me to be a witness.

It’d seem that uncovered an array of trauma that I myself had experienced.

I may have mentioned before that I have completely blanked out my childhood and it was only a mere few years ago that I remembered a few poignant moments.

These moments seemed to involve me suffering emotional and mental abuse from my cocaine-addicted ‘Stepmum’ (she isn’t worthy of that title to be honest!)

Other than that, I don’t remember any significant moments; a few happy ones but huge bulks of my timeline are missing.

On the evening of contacting the police last week, I was laying in bed; overthinking, analysing, worrying..

& suddenly, event after event unfolded within my very mind of four circumstances of a twisted sexual nature.

I felt sick.

I felt ashamed.

I felt disgusted.

& in that moment as I lay trembling in my bed; I was in a blur, I was lost, I was afraid.

I woke my Mum and clung to her for my very life.

She asked what had happened & I gave a brief outline as I have in this post yet however much she questioned me on what the circumstances were I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words; they were there, they were ready. They needed to be free but I just couldn’t let them escape the boundaries of my mouth, my mind, my heart.

Ever since I have been in an absolute mess.

So, today I had an appointment with a psychiatrist who I had only seen once before as my usual doctor is on sick.. this stand-in is absolutely brilliant; I have never connected to anyone so quickly & for that reason I hope my normal doctor never gets better (joking – of course!!)

I sat down in front of him as someone who never cries anymore as I have no emotion left in me.

All he said was ‘you sat in front of me last time with a mask on, like you do every day in your life, acting like you’re coping – and you’re not coping – are you?’

That was it. The flood gates opened. I wept ‘I’m not coping!!’

Finally. Finally I can let someone see in to my soul. The real me.

Whilst I didn’t tell him what had happened, he assured me I had been made to do these things; it wasn’t my fault.

The worst thing though, is that I know this was only the crust of an extremely thick slice of bread.

The worst thing from all of the past week is what it has unfolded at the very back of my mind.

A box, full of dread and trauma.

Whilst I don’t know what happened to me as I can’t remember, I now feel it there. I know it’s there. I know there’s something that my mind is too traumatised by to uncover.

Jesus, that terrifies me.

He summed up how this explained the majority of my current circumstances, qualities and traits.

He mentioned PTSD numerous times & I sobbed how I wished I could remember.

He said ‘why?’

‘Would you want the young people you work with to forget the trauma they’ve been through if they could?’

‘It’s amazing you’ve turned out the way you have with everything you’ve experienced. The fact you’re at uni, volunteering, is remarkable. Even if you weren’t doing those things I would be amazed how well you’re doing, just by surviving.’

Ok, so, maybe I’m lucky.

In a bizarre, cruel way; maybe I’m one of the lucky ones.

Maybe I need to learn how to manage this suppression; how to survive.

For I have survived all these years.

To those have suffered trauma, abuse, heartache yet are still here; you are a survivor.

& to survive is the hardest part of living.

You are strong.

I am strong.

My psychiatrist is going to have someone get in contact with me by the end of the week so I can start therapy (again) & I am going to beat this.

I am going to win.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

The Anxious Owl

Darkness surrounds me, it’s 2am and my nocturnal nature has set in again.

The darkness isn’t only surrounding me, it’s inside of me, consuming me. The depths of pitch black emptiness feel as though they could delve to the core of the earth, the core of my being.

Whilst the darkness is pulling me down, my mind down, my heart down.. the anxiety is building up, growing stronger, intensifying, consuming..

Overwhelming.

It’s been a troublesome day, a Monday, mundane, stressful, tiring.

It’s 2am and I’m at my weakest now, I’m fragile, I’m worn, I’m tired.

My bedtime companion has been waiting for me. I could sense it’s presence whilst I was downstairs watching TV, trying to unwind and my bedtime was looming.

As I got in to bed I could feel it tapping on my shoulder. I smiled as it crept behind me, embraced me and swore it’d never let go.

Oh how I love this sensation; the warmth, the comfort, the safety.

I turn to it and it hits me.

The cold, the fear, the uncertainty.

I was fooled in to the prospect of dreams and instead faced my nightmares.

Every nightmare I’ve ever had in the bed beside me until I wear myself so thin to the ground with overthinking that my mind can not bare any more and I fall asleep and face the anxieties in my unconscious nightmares.

But for now, I must not consider what I’ll experience in my sleep, although, that adds to my ever-growing anxiety as I lay awake. I must consider how I will overcome the here and now, how I will close my eyes and think of sweet nothings as I drift hopelessly in to a sea of content.

Laughable, right?

It seems so far from possible tonight and every other night.

Instead I consider how I got a call today to write a statement for a police investigation which occurred 14 years ago as a witness and before I know it, I’m 36 mistakes in to every bad thing I’ve ever said/ done and I’m panic stricken that it’s all going to come out in court.

It’s probably irrational, it’s probably impossible.

But now I’m 42 mistakes in and I’m contemplating what an awful person I am..

So it’s no wonder my Dad didn’t want me.

I wonder how he is? I haven’t contacted him in weeks.

I am so selfish, what if he dies and I haven’t bothered to call him?

How will I live with myself?

And then I’ll have proved his drug addicted girlfriend right.

No wonder she mentally abused me when I was a child, I probably deserved it.

Oh,

See how easy that was?

See how I captured a single snowflake in my hand

And that snowflake grew in to a snowball?

It stopped there though, right?

No.. I’m hopelessly unaware I’m suffocating in the middle of an avalanche.

And now I’m laying on the ground, cold, afraid, dark and alone.

Surrounded by the snow, the anxiety that consumed me.

My bones are so frozen, my body is so worn, my brain is so drained.

I start to drift.

It’s not a safe, comforting drift. More like a haze.

But that haze will turn in to such emptiness that my whole being closes down for the day, for the night.. and I’ll sleep.

Surely, I’ll sleep?

What if I don’t sleep?

What if I have to lay here for the next 8 hours worrying?

What if I fall asleep and I have a nightmare again and I start screaming to escape it?

What if I see something in my room again!?

What if there’s something in my room right now?

What if it wasn’t a dream?

I’m done.

It’s 5.30am and I’m waking to use the bathroom.

I’m still so exhausted, so for now, I’ll sleep. I’ll rest easy.

See you again tonight my bedtime companion, for, I don’t know how to stop being your anxious owl.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to be alone. Maybe I want to be embraced, even by you my bedtime companion, rather than feel the cold of loneliness.

Maybe I need to consider a life where I feel comforted by my own company, by my own soul.

Maybe if I find comfort in solitude, I won’t find fear in loneliness.

I guess the impression I’m getting from the majority of my writing is that I will find so much more happiness, resilience and contentment in life if I just learn to love myself.

I challenge you to find one thing you love about yourself in this very moment.

Hold on to it.

If you’re brave enough; share it with me!

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

Vanity or Nurture?

As my beautician asks me if I can rearrange my eyelash appointment from today to Monday, I rush to the bathroom, look in the mirror and an overwhelming feeling of dread feels my body.

I’m too polite to say no and a self-confessed people pleaser, so I just try and manage the fact I’m going to be panic stricken and self conscious every moment I’m out of the house for the next four days.

My lashes and hair are the only thing that make me feel confident. Yes, it may sound superficial. It may sound vain. But I have always taken care in my appearance, even on my very worst days because it is the only way I can bare to leave the house without an overwhelming sense of paranoia and dread.

I am so self conscious.

I hate myself.

If there is even one way that I can make myself feel even a tiny bit better about the person I am and the way I look, I’m sure as hell gonna take it.

But now I have to face the next four days with lashes that are beyond in need of maintenance and I have to attempt not spending the next 5760 minutes only in my home.

How?

I am so aware of the state of my lashes and the fact they are there it’s as though I have a bag of sugar balancing on each eye. They are so heavy and noticeable it’s as though they’re alive.

In some ways, they are alive.

They’re alive to me.

They are the person I hide behind, the person that protects me, the person that makes me feel better, the person that isn’t actually me and therefore is more likeable.

They may portray as vanity but they are in fact my safety, my confidence, my strength.

Every shred of the little confidence I have resides in my lashes, makeup and hair.

How superficial, how fake?

They’re still a part of me, a part of who I am.

For that reason, I will cling on to them. I will cling on to the parts of me I actually like, no matter how minuscule.

So now I have to struggle through the next 5754 minutes, feeling fragile, weak, paranoid and self conscious.

I don’t feel like it’s possible yet I know, I will do it.

Through the overwhelming anxiety, paranoia and dread there is always a part of me that knows I can do it, I will, I have to.

There’s just no other option.

Keep on keeping on readers.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

The Unbearable Weight

I feel so heavy.

So heavy.

The weight isn’t part of me though, it’s on top of me. It’s pressing down so hard that I guess actually, it is a part of me.

I carry it in the morning, I carry it during the day and my God do I carry it at night.

I may as well be 1000kg.

I think even then I’d be able to breathe easier than I am now. Be able to breathe without the intense, deep, emotional pain with every breath in.

The funny thing is it doesn’t even release when I breathe out.

Why?

Why do I feel so heavy?

Why can’t I breathe?

Why do I feel pain?

Oh, wait, you’re waiting for me to answer?

I can’t.

I’m hoping you can tell me.

I have no idea why I feel this way. Yeah, sure, my life isn’t perfect. I have worries. I have downfalls. I have troubles.

But Jim across the road lost his wife two weeks ago and I’ve seen him leave the house for work at 7.30am every day since.

So why can’t I?

Why am I in my PJ’s, unable to move due to the anxiety and heartache?

Just relaying between the sofa and the bath.

I’ve not volunteered for 13 days now, I’m meant to twice a week.

‘Stop worrying!’

‘Pull yourself together!’

‘You have nothing to stress about!’

& that’s just in my own head.. let alone the endless statements/ opinions and comments from those surrounding me.

It’s irrational, I know.

It’s unhealthy, I know.

It doesn’t solve anything, I know.

It makes things worse, I know.

I know, I know, I know it’s not constructive.

I need to help myself.

But how do you solve a problem, end the worry, when you don’t even know what you’re worrying about?

All I know is I am so heavy.

And it’s soul destroying; it’s killing me.

Yes, it’s an unbearable weight but I’m breathing.

Yes it hurts, yes it’s difficult, but I’m breathing.

Unbearable? How can it be unbearable when you are bearing it?

Ok, so, maybe it’s not so unbearable.

Maybe it’s heavy, maybe it hurts.

But I am managing it. I am breathing.

Pick yourself up girl,

Know your worth,

Know your strength.

You have spent 13 days struggling, suffering but you are still here.

You have weathered the drizzle, you have weathered the rain, you have weathered the storm.

Stay strong for one day you shall see the rainbow, feel the warmth of the sunshine against your face.

It may be a glimpse, it may be for only an hour, it’s unlikely you’ll find the pot of gold at the end of that rainbow and live happily ever after but this too shall past.

Stay strong.

Keep fighting like the warrior you are, keep breathing. Each breath will get easier until one day, even for one sweet breath, you’ll feel relief when you exhale.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

The Mental Predator

I find the most difficult part of mental illness is trying to explain the emotional pain..

I am forever asked; (told!)

‘It is not a real pain though, is it? It isn’t physically there like a broken bone or a headache?’

My question to these people is this;

‘Is any pain ‘real’? Is any pain ‘physically there’?

Surely all pain is a matter of mind rather than physical being. We feel pain and feelings are proven to be a mental process. Therefore isn’t pain created in the mind?

And if that’s true; who’s to say which pain is real and which is not?

I think people get confused between what they can see and what they can not. It is far easier to explain, identify and believe a situation we can see rather than one we can not and as human beings it is generally in our nature to take the easy route for taking the difficult one bares our being to disappointment.

I for one can tell you that emotional pain is real.

Through our lives we all experience moments of emotional pain whether it be through grief, neglect, disappointment or torment.

Due to our difference in pain thresholds; I’m sure we all feel emotional pain differently as we do a broken leg but in my experience emotional pain is by far the most painful of feelings no matter how strong or resilient you are.

Emotional pain is like a predator in the animal kingdom.

It preys on you and when you are at your most weakest point, your most vulnerable moment, it pounces on you and attacks.

It doesn’t just attack your leg or your arm, it attacks your whole being with the intent of destroying you until there is nothing left.

It is with that thought of not being able to make it through that sparks every dark emotion, every negative feeling you have ever felt.

Every heart ache, every anxiety, every sadness, every failure, every disappointment and every fear.

It is utterly, overwhelmingly, consuming.

See, when you break your leg, you are aware of that one pin pointed pain and you are aware it will get better..

But when that predator attacks it is so abrupt, so surprising that in that moment, however long it lasts, all hope is lost.

Then something truly inspiring happens.

The adrenaline kicks in, the rationalisation sets upon you and you realise you can, no, you will pull through this.

For you are far stronger than this predator. Your being is far braver, far wiser, than a predator that preys on the vulnerable.

They are weak.

Eventually the pain wilters and you rise, you grow with the emotional despair and you overcome it.

Yes, there will be emotional pain in the future and yes, it may seem far stronger than you.

But you are real.

You are not a mental process.

Whether it be a visible broken leg or an emotional pain; it is in the mind.

You are a real, living and breathing being with a mind of your own.

My advice to you is this;

You and your pain share the same mind, however, it belongs to you. It is yours. Your emotions may borrow it but please remember it always returns to you. You are in control of it, it, nor anyone else, is in control of you.

All that being said, I realise it is bloody horrific and nothing compares! I can’t even believe I am writing this; I feel like a different person is typing as I always feel so weak when the pain becomes me and even afterward, even now. However, I know what I’m saying is true and I must start to implement it in my every day life.

We must always remember overcoming it rather than feeling it; it’s uplifting.

Grit your teeth and push through. Don’t allow yourself to be vulnerable prey. Be prepared. Be strong.

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo

Take the Plunge!

Ahh I am so excited!!

Visiting Italy has been my dream for as long as I can remember & for some reason, I’ve just never got round to booking it..

I’ve been to France, America, Spain, Greece, Denmark & so on.. but never got round to Italy.

I told my Mum last year I would take her there for her 50th, however, I think we were both unsure whether it would actually happen.

I probably can’t afford it, I’m gonna have to save & I’m gonna be a bit skint for a few weeks but I don’t care.. today I thought.. just do it.

I’ve read so many blogs on just booking the flights & worrying about everything else later.. about taking the plunge..

& I today I did.

I’ve booked the hotel, I’ve booked the flights & I’ve booked surprises along the way for my beautiful Mum’s 50th birthday in May.. in Italy!

We’re going for 4 days/ 3 nights & staying in a 4* hotel.

I can’t tell you where in Italy just yet incase she sees this! & I can’t tell you about the surprises in store, which I know she’ll love, either!

But I’ll definitely keep you updated 🙂

I’m so over the moon I put my anxiety aside & did something I’ve wanted to for many years..

Take the plunge!

(& worry later)

It’s so worth it!

On top of that, I got my last assignment feedback of the year & I got all 7/7’s on the marking criteria with very positive comments.

So, overall, today has been a good day (apparently they can happen!)

Stay positive readers!

Love always,

An Impartial Soul xo