|Terrified to Move
||[Jul. 4th, 2008|08:31 pm]
Face the Fear and Do It Anyway
I realized that's part of where I am today.
I am so tightly wound and so totally controlled, I am terrified to let even the slightest bit of movement disturb my equalibrium. I've likened it lately to feeling like a bottle of gingerale that someone shook up, and the pressure is building and the top is not screwed on properly. I'm afraid that I'm going to explode at any time and I don't know what that will look like or what direction it will be in.
I met with a psych a few weeks ago, who basically said "yep you are crazy but you aren't dreaming so that's normal. Come back when that's fixed." I'm so tightly wound, I'm not able to even present as a danger to myself or someone else, despite the images that race through my head and cause me to tremble and shake.
I'm starting to sleep better. I know, because I'm having moments of clarity. Moments where I want to dance and am listening to my middle eastern music. Moments where I can narrow down the list in my head to something resembling sense. Moments where I can put on my gardening gloves and pull weeds.
Yet, I also have moments, where my risk-taking behaviours are manifesting in FULL FORCE without regard to my personal safety or even sanity. That's not good. And yet, I keep it together enough that my boss simply "can't tell" when I'm having a bad day.