Tag Archive: anxiety


Eccedentesiast Messages.

“Hi! How’re you?”

I have bad days more than good. I’ve fallen apart so much this year that I’m running out of string and glue to hold myself together. I’ve shut everyone out and I mean EVERYONE. Ease don’t take it personally that I don’t talk anymore but I got hurt bad this year because I finally believed in someone and let my guard down a little. 5 years. 5 years I’d known them and everyone said that they were a user and no good for me. They turned on me badly when I was at a very low point and I considered ending my life. So now they’re out of my life but it’s caused a knock on effect and now I don’t want anyone near me. I don’t want to talk to people. My confidence is gone. I just want to stay home and never see people again. People hurt you. I say it all the time and I’m always told that no. No they don’t. It’s just a few bad ones that take advantage. But YES. Yes they do. Time has proved it again and again. So I am quiet. I hate myself. I hardly sleep. My anxiety has presented itself in a new way now… I get the shakes when it’s pushed too high. That’s made me really self conscious. I keep telling myself that I’ll get over it. But when? But I’ll get over it.

“Hi! How’re you? I hope you’re keeping well? Massive hugs.x.x.”

Writing to a song…

Written to a Nickelback song. About suicide and depression because my brain took 8 words of the song and decided thats the way its going.

~…No freedom…~

Dark body

darker sky,

One quick deep cut

say goodbye,

Blood slips down

White sheets turn red,

Soaking into

this once clean bed,

Breathing shallower

barely there,

Empty pill bottle beside you

your almost there,

A ghost walking hallways

in this damn house,

You’ve screamed so loudly

yet your silent like a mouse,

There’s so much noise

inside your head,

You crave the silence

better off dead,

Depression anxiety

you’re alone spiralling down,

Everythings got to much

its making you drown,

Vision is fuzzy

your fading almost time,

Heart gives in to much struggle

flatline,

And your here

stood beside your bed,

Look down at glassy eyes

empty vessel gone dead,

Now you’ll get peace

you smile and say,

But its not gonna happen

things aren’t going your way,

The screaming is louder

there’s nowhere to hide,

The darkness more vivid

everythings on the slide,

You thought you be free

you were so wrong,

You’re a ghost in this houses hallways

and the nightmares know your song…x.

If I could hug you? I would.

I read your words and wanted to reach out but I can’t. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. Because I’ve always envied you. You’ve always seemed to me to have your shit together. To be strong. I feel like a sinner because I sinned in judging your book by its cover and I should know better than that seeing as I’m usually only hanging on by a couple of threads. I should know better because I’ve perfected my mask for the world so no one sees just how broken I am. So that only a couple of people know I was very close to taking my life earlier this year. I should know better to judge I’m sorry. I’m sorry because its you. And damn reading your words, your posts… it hit me hard. I judged bad. Because I understood every word thats in those posts and I cried for you. Not in a bad way but because I care.

I wanted to ring you, message you or maybe even email you but if I rang? I’d have to talk and I don’t do talking. You might say how’s you? And I’d have to lie and say I’m good and push further into me. Blocking myself off more. You might message something back and then what do I do? Do I reply? If I replied you might ring. If I didn’t reply you might ring. My anxiety building higher as I thought about this a million different ways pushing myself towards a meltdown by over thinking but I can’t help it. I could email you but say what? How do I put it into words that I understand and your not alone and I care and miss you and I’m afraid to and your family and I love you. I can’t. I got stuck in my own anxieties and then got afraid. I failed. So I did what I know… I pulled further inside myself and built another layer around me.

And now I’m here again… Reading again. I want to give you a hug but this stupid touch thing has got so much worse. But at the same time its also weird… there are safe people. I can talk to safe people, maybe hug a couple of them you’re safe because I know your family. Because we spent years growing up together. Because I know you. Because I used to shout at you to get up for school. Because you used to take the piss out of the annoying brat that was me but at the same time? You got it first that I couldn’t cope with the disruption which led to me bawling my eyes out into a tin of dog food. Because you were a know-it-all but I looked up to you and wanted to be as fearless as you were(I’m never going to admit that to you though!). So your a safe person. But I’m still afraid. I’m lucky if I talk to 1 person a month now face to face that doesn’t live in this house. People are scary. Going out of the house is scary. I rarely go out anymore. But you’re safe because its you. Love you masses.x.x.

So here i am… still wondering how or even if I can message you. I guess its more im afraid of you replying. Gosh I’m such an awkward bitch… sigh… I don’t know what to do… in head? We go for a walk where there are no people(because I can’t have another panic attack because I don’t do people). We just walk and random talk but I need to get out my head where I gloss over all the bad. Stupid head… I should go to sleep.

For Jay. Love you and care for you always.x.

Thank you…

Today… This evening… thank you. Thank you for finally making me feel. To you they were just videos of your drive home but not to me. I saw the road signs, the trucks and cars and looked at the licence plates(because as they’re not English they fascinate me). Then the rain came down and I wondered if you remembered how much I absolutely adore rain? How the rain is my favourite weather and always stirs something in me. I flicked back over time over our many many random conversations… the latest again being food. My gosh we talk so much about food… recipes, different styles of cooking, spices, vegetables… sitting here a ghost of a smile pops up at our conversation about steak(which I still say is yucky and I don’t like it). But I’ve moved away from the point.

The whole point is you made me feel. Just for that moment I felt alive. With the hell I’ve been going through, the not feeling. How I’ve accepted this emptiness this devoid of feeling. You made me feel. I felt the rain hitting my skin as you drove your car talking about the rain. I felt those pitter patters rushing down and hitting my skin in sharp icy cold drops. I felt the small sharp sting and how my body shuddered at their touch. I felt the cold rain run in rivulets down me. Soaking my hair and running down my neck my clothes soaked to my skin. The goosebumps rushing along my arms and then across my body at the cold. My teeth chattering as my inner temperature dropped at being pulled so low because of the onslaught of rain beating down like tiny little knives. My hair trying to fight its hardest to curl back into its natural spirals as the rain soaks it pulling it all straight making me look bedraggled. All that from a few videos… You did it. You made me feel….

Its hard to explain it that soft stir inside me as something that slumbers moved just a little, just enough so I know it hasn’t died. Just enough to give me hope. And thats what I need… hope. Such a small word. Only 4 letters long. Such an infinite meaning… hope.

I’m having days and days and days and says of this… this greyness…

..I have wanted to give up more than once. I have been letting my anxieties rule me and have allowed myself to become comfortably numb. This fortified dam I have intricately built around me to cut myself off from everything and everyone. I’ve been so afraid of never feeling again. Of never writing again. I’ve been so afraid that I’ve lost my words forever. Because if I’ve lost them? Then who am I? To write is what I know. To be consistently surrounded by whirlwinds of words, even when I’m in my barren place. Those whirlwinds have always been there mocking and not letting me touch. But since February? They have gone. They left. There have been none. And that has scared me more than not feeling anything. Words, like music, are my blood. But you made me feel. I didn’t say much to the videos but? Here on my blog? Here I’ve written. Here I’m saying thank you. Thank you for being you. Thank you for random videos driving home and foreign license plates and roads and road signs, for trucks, cars, driving on the wrong side of the road, building and grass that usually gives up but instead is green because of rain, super straight roads and traffic lights above your head, endless presets on the radio and when your singing to the songs, the wipers going from slow to fast to keep up and car tail lights glowing in the pouring rain… Thank you for making me feel.

.x.

Rebuilding 1 block at a time…

I crashed last month. Like always? I didn’t see the signs until after. Like always I hid how much I cried, hid that I didn’t want to breathe any more. I planned in detail again just how I’d do it. I’ve got a quick fool proof way. No come backs. No doctor will save me. But its just thoughts. Its what happens when I get that low. I know there’s some name for it. Where you plan it but have no intention to actually do it. I seem to purposely break myself and shatter my own defenses every time I try to build them. Honestly I’m tired of this game. So damn tired. I’m tired of building myself back up and pretending that I’m always ok. I’m tired of always showing the world a smile, and im known for it… that stupid smile. Its there hiding me behind it.

Right now I feel numb. No emotion is hitting me hard enough to get through. I’m just sitting here in my mind slowly building these glass shards up one by one. You’d think by now I’d have cut myself so many times that I’d build with something stronger. But no… I’d rather walk on broken glass apparently…

But you see? This is the thing with depression. It hits us all in different ways. Its sets us apart but in being apart we are together(these are my thoughts remember). It torments us with sweet nothings. Promises of things being better if we just give in and let that dark gray soft depressive cloud envelope us in its warm embrace. But they’re not better. They never are. And yet so many of us give in again and again. Are you tired like me? Because I’m so damn tired of all this.

I want to be better. I want to be like everyone else. I don’t want to have to fight the feeling that my skin is trying to crawl off me every time I’m around people. I dont want to keep being afraid of people and places with lots of them. I dont want outs to my anxiety to be to claw my skin on my arms until I make it bleed(I’m working hard on finding ways to not do this including living in t-shirts no matter the weather because I cant hide it). I’ve often said over the years that I want to be normal. But what’s normal? To the outside world I appear to function fine. So therefore? I must be fine. I must be normal… Please remind me of this next time I’m on the bathroom floor crying so hard I can hardly breathe all while trying to make no sound so no one knows what I’m doing. Remind me of it when my own mind turns against me and drags me down shattering every hope I have, leaves me a broken jaggard mess. Remind me then that I’m normal. Because those times I forget…

So here I am. Back to the now. And I’m here. I’m starting to feel words again so I know I’m coming back. I’m building enough and fighting the numb enough and not just floating in it because floating in numb is easy and since when did I ever take the easy road anyway? I can’t quite catch the words yet to make poems. But I will. I have hope. When I have nothing else inside me? I always find a way to have hope. And sometimes things get so dark in my mind. But still always there is hope. Hope plants seeds. Hope can grow a blade of grass or a mountain…

Look at me here littering this page with my thoughts… I feel I’d have made more sense if I’d just grabbed a tin of alphabet spaghetti and played scrabble with it(now there’s an idea!). But I stick to the promise I made for this page… be open. Honest. Who cares if they think your a fruitloop? You’ve never eaten one so does it matter? The point is I’m real.

I’ve just seen something fluffy walk into the room and meow(well he makes a sound that sounds like “no”), in my direction… I’m going to say hello and touch the uber fluffiness because no one can deny a cat…

Hugs to you all at the end of the wire.x.

     Okay, okay… its a very “in your face” title. No this post isn’t about a world over run by zombie children  but? Zombie children will feature in it a bit further down.
     So? How’s your week gone? Has the house turned into a scene from the lost Boys in Peter Pan? No? Then you did good 👏  Now you might think I’m being sarcastic but a parent I know sent me a great pic on Snap this morning of the “masterpiece” her super cute twin 5 year old’s did at half 6 this morning with the caption… A nappy!! I just went to change A….’s nappy and they did this🤬🤬 
       This got me laughing and thinking of my eldest 2 who I learned many lessons from, including just painting in plain colours and always keeping an extra tin to pain over  “materpieces” oh! and if they go quiet? Panic and find them fast. They are up to something(80% of the time!).  My youngest has got away with nothing, simply because 5 tried this stuff before her and never got away with it(ok the first 2 probably did out of sheer shock they did whatever it was).
       Anyway… has the start of your week been good? I hope so! If it hasn’t? I’m sorry, I’m here if you want to privately just vent. And? I’m seriously hoping it gets better for you.x.
       This week has started ok. Yes, I know there’s still the whole week to go really… I was listening to the youngest do one of her French lessons this week and she moans… “You’re repeating what we already know and its all blah blah bl…” (goes bright pink), “Sorry Miss!! Ahhhh…. I mean I mean… ahhhhh!! Désolée!” (Looks at me looking at her amused as I hear her teacher explaing that she must learn to use the mute button when expressing her opinions like that). Yep we had words. She emailed an apology to her teacher. But we’ve… done an aerobics workout(pe), I did that one with her. Funny as hell!

Hows the month been for you? Not long until the end of it and look?! Heres you still going and breathing and coping(even on the days you feel your not). You’re acing this month!

Went for a walk late at night away from people(I dont do people) with the eldest girl. The conversation turned to Zombies and how we’d kill them but I cant kill Zombie kids and babies so I’d just round them up and put them in a big pen,this caused a bit of an argument as she said no. They’re zombies. Kill them. No. I said. They are kiddos. Can’t do it. So then she says well they’ll just eat eachother! Sparking a bigger debate… she asks if I’d save all the Zombie cats? Ahhhhhhh!! Zombie cats?!! I love furry fluffy kitties… I CAN’T KILL THOSE!!!! So apparently I’m going to help Zombie kiddos, Zombie babies and Zombie Cats rule the world as I cant kill them. Who knew?!

I know I’ve been quiet on here lately and its because I’ve almost completely shut myself off from everyone and everything that isn’t inside my house/garden. I’ve needed it. I’ve also been thinking about these little thoughts posts… I know I said I’d just title them all little thoughts but, if I i post 2 in the same day or quick succession of each other? Would it make others that read it think I’ve posted the same thing twice? I dont know… should I post them as numbers instead? Wondering if I should go back and change the 2 I posted today to numbers instead… think I will. I’ll start at 400 that can be my zero.

The Cat has just come in to me and meowed his annoyance that I haven’t moved to let him out which has made me look at the time… not too far from midnight. Maybe some Chamomile tea? I dont even miss coffee anymore really.

OK ok Mr Bear! I’m off to let this fluffy house dragon out into the night to do whatever kitties do…

Sending all of you at the other end of the wire a hug.x.

Write your own title…



    Well hi!  I’ve been bit quiet lately,so much going on and I’ve not been feeling the words. The kiddos first week back at school was interesting to say the least. They are fab and make me proud with the way they’ve gone straight back at it. The youngest is realising that idont mind her listening to music,it’s the gatcha life in lesson time I draw the line at. She’s been busted twice.
    A lot happened on Friday and although this isn’t going to be a long post, I don’t think it will be anyway, its Friday and what’s happened because of it I’m going to write about…
    Friday afternoon me and the 15 year old had a play tickle fight,loads of laughing and smiling and just fun. But I hurt myself (and yes I’ve found it hilariously funny). I’ve twisted or sprained my knee, well I’ve done something to it! By Saturday it was completely swollen and I couldn’t walk on it, que strapping it up to support it as I cussed and cursed around the kitchen, crawled up the stairs and almost cried crawling back down them, as I went off on one at the washing machine for washing clothes to quickly and the dryer for drying the clothes to quickly. Sunday, Monday, we’re now on Tuesday(20:38 UK time), and I’m still seriously struggling its still swollen, it still hurts, I’m still limping, still can’t completely bend or straighten it. But? Its still funny as fudge!
    Now… the more important bit and the reason I wanted to write and this is incredibly sad. On Friday a girl in my 15 year olds form class committed suicide. Needless to say everyone is still shocked. Sadness doesn’t begin to describe it. One of the popular girls who was kind, sweet, caring and beautiful. The school has offered counselling to all students and to all teachers. The teachers have talked to the pupils as each lesson begins both yesterday and today. I wrote previously that the years 2 of my children are in are exam years, there is so much pressure. And I mean an extreme amount of pressure. Covid has made it so much harder, lessons online is so much harder and our house is lucky that there are enough devices for all 3 youngest to be online doing class work. Everyone is feeling the isolation. For 15 and 17/18(Alevel)Yr olds across the UK? The pressure is immense. A support network is ringing every family to ask how their teenager is, after talking for a few moments I asked if she wanted to talk to the 15yr old who was doing her work near me. I have sat and spoken to my 15 year old a few times about what happened. Her brothers and sisters, us as a family, we stick together and we talk. It is a parents worse nightmare and my heart goes out to her mum.
     My last thought in writing this post is this…
          There are going to be days where you feel so alone. That no one understands,that no one is there for you. You will feel like no one cares and that you’re not worthy of love. There will be days where you can’t see anything other than the bleak greyness that appears to go on forever. There might be times when to not breathe? Seems the better option. When these days happen, when your thoughts are like this? I’m asking you to remember something important…

      You are a candle 🕯
If you went out?
Somebodies path would be in darkness.
You light their path in life
Probably without ever knowing
How bright and well lit
You make their life path.
You are important.
You are not just wanted.
You are needed.
And even if at times
You don’t feel it?
You are loved.x.


So as simple as it sounds?
Please don’t ever forget…
You are a candle 🕯

…Little thought…

  I fight with you, I listen to you, I give up and give in to you, you smother me to keep me safe so you say…

  I got asked twice on here why it showed I posted a post titled Female muse? No. He’s male and yet it cant be read… its because I made it private. Doubt has eaten such a hole in my thoughts that people/others/whoever would judge me for him. For being open enough to even include a little of our carefully screenshotted chat. For being honest enough to acknowledge that he has been my muse for over 20 years. For opening my mind into the thoughts and definitions of what a muse is and how,though we have never been lovers only friends, he has artistically been my obsession. Doubt won. The only person that knows he is my inspiration is him. No one else. But I started wondering, started thinking… we spoke the day before yesterday. A lengthy conversation. Both through messages and then a voice call, I don’t do voice calls(snapchat, WhatsApp or text me. Dont call me), but I did the brave thing. I did a voice call. I can be brave. I admit I was so nervous and my hands were shaking but? After a few minutes(and the Chamomile tea!), I was good. He has anxiety just like me, has issues not the same but like me, can’t deal with the world just like me. But our difference is that he not only holds an amazing steady job but its in how he has worked his life and kind of compartmentalised and locked off parts.

Anyway… I wrote the post. I thought it would do me good. I thought it would show that look… I’m just like any other weirdly obsessed word junkie… its real this muse thing, his normal conversations, just particular words or the way he laughs… it inspires me. But then? I’m too weird… its wrong isn’t it? Ah… I dont know… some of our conversation is eating at me even now… its messing with my mind to the point the last message between us was? “ok” not capitalised nor a full stop. I now doubt our every word from my endless overthinking and dont want to talk to him or anyone for that matter. Anyone up for a fort building session with pillows and blankets? Ugh… maybe not… so the post has gone. I mean its still there but its private and it glares at me!

Here’s a song for you all…

Jess Glynn “Insecurities.”

My mind is so alive with words right now and I really should write them down. Instead I’m letting my fears, insecurities and doubts eat them one by one. I’m questioning every thought I think. Second guessing myself. I want to give up on words but they just like music, are my blood.

I’ll put the kettle on and make Chamomile tea… I so miss coffee 😭 this caffeine free thing is going to kill me in the end I swear… 😒

Anyway… Take care all of you at the other end of the wire…x.

~…. Storyteller ….~

The lies they slither

off your tongue,

And one by one I fall for them

completely come undone,

You weave your web fabricated

untrue,

And I fall I fall

such a fool for you….

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