It’s been a while since I’ve posted so I thought perhaps I should.. I can’t really explain why I haven’t posted, where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing… I don’t know. I literally have no idea where time has gone, and keeps going. I have NO idea how it is already September next week! I mean – how can someone who didn’t work for the first 3 months of the year, and who has then been part time since, have had time pass so quickly?!Time is one of my biggest anxieties. All it does is seem to pass and I seem to have nothing to show for it.
Generally – I’ve been all over the place. I turned yet another year older – somehow – at the start of August; and despite having a lovely surprise weekend away thanks to my husband I noticed my mood darken leading up to my birthday, only now slowly beginning to settle back down. The Clomiphene I have been on for fertility has given me a whole heap of side effects; the hardest for me (aside from the huge weight gain) has been complete exhaustion! It is just as well I don’t work full time anymore as I’ve had to nap most days because of it – despite – for once in my life – apparently sleeping quite well at night! Insomnia has been a real problem for me for many years so to have been sleeping at night has been lovely… Although I have noticed recently some insomnia creeping back into my life; lying awake at night for hours on end; or my sub-conscious kindly giving me different, random nightmares which wake me through the night..
I’ve found myself over-worrying about everything and anything for no real reason; anxiety being on an apparent high increase. Worrying about things that I really don’t need to worry about (as absurd as is that guy happy?!). I don’t know if it is the time of year (birthday) that makes me worse, the medication, me, time passing or the continuous lack of pregnancy.. At least I am in a better situation than last year..
This time last year I was in a dark place. It was about the time I really started loosing “friends”; my colleagues at Clarks, which in the end lead to my final demise and me leaving.
I was petrified. Constantly. Yet without really knowing what of; the only conclusion I can come to now is the build up to my birthday; I could not be another year older and still be in this state of “under-accomplishment” that I saw myself in. I was not “good enough” but the only person what was judging that “good enough” was me. Everyone else saw an achiever; happily married, house owner, career driven/aspirations, “secure” job, car, education, figure. To me, I was desperate for the promotion I had worked so hard for, deserved, and the family of our own. Two things I couldn’t control, and were entirely out of my reach, no matter what.
I consistently punished myself. Running, cutting, biting myself. Avoiding talking, barely breathing, hardly functioning. I was told that I “brought the team together” and that the black cloud that encased me, was in effect, also encasing the team. In sum; I needed to snap out of it. I couldn’t. You can’t snap out of a black cloud of depression and anxiety no matter how much you want to. I didn’t want to be having numerous daily panic attacks, I didn’t want my mind to be constantly racing and unable to focus. I didn’t want the IBS symptoms of anxiety. I didn’t want to be hurting myself one way or another, I wanted to be that person that brought that team together. But the new petrified me was scared to participate in anything, yet scared to not. Without really realising I was withdrawing more and more and because of that people were giving up on me; a hopeless case. I no longer fully believe the words “you can’t help someone who won’t help themselves”, it’s a virtual impossibility to help yourself when you don’t realise that you aren’t. I found I couldn’t win; if I voiced ideas and opinions people looked at me like I was crazy; recoiled in horror, and yet if I didn’t talk, people looked at me like I was crazy for having nothing to say, that by not speaking I was further enforcing that black cloud of gloom on others.
Now? I’m not exactly thrilled another year has passed, and so fast. I’m not keen to be yet another year older and (obviously) no further with our own family to raise. My “career” has changed dramatically, and whilst I miss my old job and the banter with my colleagues, once “friends” – I’m glad to have learnt who my real friends are standing quietly by me no matter how much I destroy myself. Time will continue to pass all too fast, but I’m definitely marginally (!) calmer about being another year older.
For someone who is over-anxious about the passing of time, and my own judgement of myself of not being “good enough” or “under achieving”, how is it I somehow still manage to procrastinate insanely about everything and anything?! I copied one of my lovely friends ideas to do a “30 things before your 30” list; and now that I have “finished*” writing it – I can’t seem to crack on with any of those things I am so keen to do!
*I rush finished the last with some weird, vague things the other day, and since then have come up with a bunch more obvious stuff I could put on it!
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