Things seem to have calmed down a bit since Thursday. Although I don’t know if that is because I’m feeling better or just because I am completely drained. Probably a bit of both.
This week has been hard. Almost a perfect storm. What I’m dealing with now colliding with parts of my past I’ve been trying to forget. The weekend hasn’t made things any easier. Triggers everywhere.
So perhaps it’s time to try a new approach. I’ve been fighting everything. Fighting the way I am. Fighting the diagnosis. Maybe I need to stop fighting for a while. Try the acceptance route. Try asking for help more often rather than assuming that I can and should be able to deal with everything myself.
I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. But the other choices are not appealing: to exhaust myself fighting a battle I cannot win, or to shut myself up again in a self-imposed mental prison.
The picture in my mind at the moment is of staring at the earth from an aeroplane, about to jump out. I feel physical tension across my back and a tightening in my chest as I prepare to fall. It’s definitely a step into the unknown. I just hope I can find a parachute before I hit the ground.