Ebb tide

[screaming-intothevoidd]

I have two pages of notes to get through in 50 minutes.

I am choosing to finally center myself over enabling someone else's selfishness.

I just dont quite know what that looks like yet.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

My period arrived.

My Grandad is still dead. I took two days off work.

I wish I could ignore that Download is happening next week. But its every breath. Out loud. Every conversation. Every person. And I want to stick my fingers in my ears and LALALALALALALA.

Im not talking to one sibling. Because I disapprove. Im leaning on others.

A sent me a message in work. And like a puppy who's been kicked repeatedly, I still jumped up for pets. And . . . Crickets. Im starting to think its a game to her. To see if I'm still captivated. Or captive.

After talk after talk after talk after the mental load and the physical load, im still being left to do the most. And im withdrawn. And unfeeling.

And im just unfeeling.

I've only cried once in the past week. What the fuck is wrong with me? Im grieving and I've only cried once this week.

I want to shrink into a .

[screaming-intothevoidd]

My grandad died Saturday night.

My period hasn't started.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

I want to tell people that im burnt like a lobster after two days outside

And send them pictures of my lawn edging that I did

And funny memes of animals from the zoo

And complain about my sore muscles

And remark about how nice it is to feel like I have a never-ending weekend

And giggle about how much goddamn sex I've had this week

.

.

.

And then I remember i stopped putting in the effort first and suddenly my circle grew so small. So, so small.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

I finally got my prescription and i can't help but feel like im doing something illicit despite myself being in posession of an official piece of paper.

I dont want to be observed. This was ever evident when I had one of the 'brownies' i baked the boy and felt like the world was ending. And I just needed to handle those few hours alone. Its a shame that that's the best batch of brownies I've ever baked and only select people could enjoy them.

My grandad is home. I took the brave decision on telling work because I needed them to know there might come a day where I drop off like a rock on a cliff.

I have so much to say.

I have nothing to say.

I dont know where my brain is right now.

But its not here. Right now. Its not.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

I had to tell my siblings that our Grandad only has months left and he's talking about Download.

And im so fucking sick of hearing about Download because I haven't been alone in months. I haven't been able to cast off the labels in months. I've always had a role tag pinned to me.

I tried to play Zomboid and I tried to play sims and they both crashed.

And i spent hours alone being household manager today.

And i had to tell my siblings that our grandad is being sent home to die over the coming months.

And that was never a label I wanted to pin to myself.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

Had to chase the 'pharmacy' up because this week I really could have done with some help. Im starting to think its less anxiety and more likely autistic burnout. I got through. Barely. But eye contact is impossible. Talking is impossible. My tongue is thick. My speech is impedimented. Im hyper aware of every single sensation and muscle and nerve in my body. And I have a feeling I'll end up crying during my MS next week.

I think there's a limit above the limit. And I seem to top it constantly. And I wonder how much more I can take and then I take more. But its unlike me to feel passively suicidal during the working week and that's where we are. I keep recording voicenotes. I keep deleting them. Getting my words out but no one hears. Its not healthy. I know its not. But I dont want to burden anyone. I've done enough of that. Too much wine this week. Another unhealthy coping mechanism. But it makes me feel like a normal human instead of a fucked up one.

Im tired. I want to sleep. So I dont have to be conscious and thinking for a while. Its different from sleeping to feel rested. I never feel rested.

I've tried to explain that I dont feel safe opening up again. Which should be a huge red flag. And instead he gets defensive and deflective and doesn't hear it. But I dont feel safe opening up when I should be able to. Instead of seeing that the reels i like that the algorithm showed me were a loud voice, he was only worried about how people would percieve him. And not about anything else

And im not talking to my siblings because im tired of being the fixer and I dont want to just dump on Bee all the time and I dont want everyone in work to think im just negative all the time so I swallow it down. Im obese with all these words and feelings and thoughts.

I wanted to scream in work today. Not because of work. Because of other things. And I held it back but at some point i have to wonder if I won't be able to. If it will happen unannounced.

I can't eat properly. I have no appetite. I force it down. And I want sex, because I guess my body wants to feel connected to something and my brain wants the dopamine but I dont want to have sex because I dont feel safe enough to be intimate with my words so why should I be intimate with my most intimate anatomy parts.

Word vomit. Truly. The only kind of vomit an emetophobic knows intimately.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

I know i spent the longest time hating work but recently it's become my safe space, as I explained to a coworker today.

Because she's noticed that I've been off and she wanted to check in. Because she gets it. And being able to offload in the kitchen helped.

And tomorrow. The school brought sports day forward. Buns last sport day. And i was worried I wouldn't be able to attend bc of local elections and us being short staffed. But team manager was strict in that I HAD to attend the school and work would be fine. They'd survive. Work is work but life is LIFE

And they have been very accommodating lately with Juno's spay and me needing to WFH more and that somedays I really just can't talk.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

Posting too much.

Messages from Google and instagram about the contents im looking for.

But I just need someone to sit alongside me and not try to fix it. Not tell me I have so much to live for. So much to do. So much to be grateful for.

I need someone to sit with me while I again come to the realisation that I will forever be fighting my brain for the rest of my life.

I need someone to sit with me who doesn't want to change me.

I'm just so tired.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

If I'm cryptic enough.

I worried for weeks that I couldn't produce tears.

Exhaustion.

And tonight they won't stop.

And I'm managing it all alongside a child who's had his 5th migraine in as many weeks.

And cats who still need feeding.

Motions.

Going through.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

Look, I know that this is a conversation for my therapist.

Dead behind the eyes.

If it wasn't for the kids. The cats. My mother who doesn't need any more trauma.

But then, if it wasn't for those added pressures, would I be feeling so stuck?

I'm not trying to lay blame. Because they have no part in how I'm feeling.

This place doesn't feel safe enough for me to write right now. I feel like at some point it'll be sought out and used as ammunition. And with A being out of my life and my siblings not quite getting it, I really do only have 50 minutes a week to speak to someone who's in my corner, despite that being seen as "talking shit". That's all im allowed. A pittance.

50 out of 10080.

I feel so isolated.

In a pitch dark room.

Screaming.

[fairycosmos]

i really don’t have the time to be the way i am

[screaming-intothevoidd]

The luteal lake was hiding a depressive phase.

The kind that makes your eyes feel heavy. The kind that makes you sign a thousand times an hour. The kind that makes you talk in a monotone way. The kind that makes smiles not reach eyes. The kind that presents as anger. The kind that makes it hard to cry. The kind that brings apathy. The kind that makes you wish something out of your control would happen so you don't have to carry on.

Can I sleep until its all over?

[screaming-intothevoidd]

I am now a legitimate medical "flower" user.

Well, late next week. But there is a prescription. The whole second consultation was hilariously quick. 2 1/2 minutes. He had picked out blends. 2 of them. Because apparently they want me to use a night time and daytime version.

Let's face it. Its more money for them. That is the goal.

I solved problems in work yesterday. They acted like I was a hero. I lapped up the praise because it has felt like such a long time since that has happened. Basic IT skills. That's all it took for acknowledgement of what I bring to the table. More recognition than I get at home.

I brought the cats a stick on bird feeder for their favourite window. Enrichment, but safe for both species. I own more books, because im trying to move away from digital versions that can change their words or become unavailable to me.I am planning a night with Bee at a farm, where we can get tipsy while we're being nibbled by goats. We might go abroad around Christmas but i need to wait to see if i still have a job then. We have a Winter wedding to attend, in a castle. A very important one. I've priced up tickets for two local zoos and if the kids and I have to get the train to get there, then so be it. But I want to marvel over primates and amphibians and mammals that only know the safest survival now.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

Deep in the luteal lake.

Tired and melancholic and sad.

"You haven't talked to me much this week"

And maybe it's because your behaviour over the weekend was deplorable and my heart feels frozen.

Going to sleep early to avoid.

I haven't replied to A yet. I still can't.

And I've stopped speaking to my siblings because its a continuation of the same puzzle. Im always reaching out first

And there's a lock on my tears. They won't come. My therapist has a theory behind it.

Ice cold. Beating heart. Antarctic.

I wish.

And i want one night at home. Drinks. Adults. No children. And there's a block on him asking his mother for one request of mine to make me feel slightly more human.

In a shocking turn of events, my work week has felt empowered and confident. Likely because I have been surrounded by people who see my merit. Im getting all my good from that place. All my praise. All my power. All my recognition.

Yet i still feel so shit.

There's no way to wrap that up eloquently.

[screaming-intothevoidd]

Doused in luteal acid patches.

Tomorrow I will scream at my therapist all the words that have been lodged deep in my throat all week.

Gutteral.

Ancient curses.

And then I will tell her I wanted to self harm but I didn't self harm.

So there is something in that.

There is.