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Roller-coaster
Dec. 1st, 2010 08:28 pm
Yesterday:
A tense, tight feeling in the chest. A bit of trouble sleeping. But you couldn't make me cry even if I wanted to.
Today:
I could not sleep at all last night, that unnatural calm becoming less a calm, and more a numbing of emotion. I woke up at least 10 times, with nightmares, and I'd lie there in bed, hands at my sides, feeling nothing, eyes closed but still awake. I'd doze off briefly and then find myself conscious again. I put a few slides together, emailed them to my teacher, then went back to sleep, restlessly, until past noon, when I noticed that I was on a downer from the drugs again and was able to cry.
I was able to relax a lot, hanging out with Eva all afternoon, but even before she left, the tenseness in my chest came back.
The drugs hide away the mental component of my fears. It does not hide the fear itself, and my body still tightens up in anxiety and panic but I no longer comprehend why it's happening. It's weird. Like I'm in myself but out of myself. It's weird that I'm unable to emotionally respond to it -- the drugs have taken that away from me.
It reminds me so much of how badly I wish for calm and peace in my heart, a place to go where there is nothing to hide, a place to laugh and sing.
I'm only allowed to miss half a day more of work. I can't fall behind, I've got to push forward, no matter how crappy I feel I have to push forward. There really are no more escape routes. I am here until the end, even if it kills me. And whether or not it does, at the end of it I will get to see my parents, and for some reason I would do a lot just for that right now.
And I want to think, this is the halfway mark, that the final week is just review and tests, so next week is the last week of "real" teaching. But no matter how much I tell myself, that everything will be okay, my heart has yet to accept it.
I need to find again those things that I love, and make the time to do them. I notice that my roommate does a little knitting and watches TV series in the afternoons. Time to produce some tangible output that is meaningful.
No, it is now only 8PM and I am crying again writing this. What on earth is wrong with me? This has to change... I have no more chances...
A tense, tight feeling in the chest. A bit of trouble sleeping. But you couldn't make me cry even if I wanted to.
Today:
I could not sleep at all last night, that unnatural calm becoming less a calm, and more a numbing of emotion. I woke up at least 10 times, with nightmares, and I'd lie there in bed, hands at my sides, feeling nothing, eyes closed but still awake. I'd doze off briefly and then find myself conscious again. I put a few slides together, emailed them to my teacher, then went back to sleep, restlessly, until past noon, when I noticed that I was on a downer from the drugs again and was able to cry.
I was able to relax a lot, hanging out with Eva all afternoon, but even before she left, the tenseness in my chest came back.
The drugs hide away the mental component of my fears. It does not hide the fear itself, and my body still tightens up in anxiety and panic but I no longer comprehend why it's happening. It's weird. Like I'm in myself but out of myself. It's weird that I'm unable to emotionally respond to it -- the drugs have taken that away from me.
It reminds me so much of how badly I wish for calm and peace in my heart, a place to go where there is nothing to hide, a place to laugh and sing.
I'm only allowed to miss half a day more of work. I can't fall behind, I've got to push forward, no matter how crappy I feel I have to push forward. There really are no more escape routes. I am here until the end, even if it kills me. And whether or not it does, at the end of it I will get to see my parents, and for some reason I would do a lot just for that right now.
And I want to think, this is the halfway mark, that the final week is just review and tests, so next week is the last week of "real" teaching. But no matter how much I tell myself, that everything will be okay, my heart has yet to accept it.
I need to find again those things that I love, and make the time to do them. I notice that my roommate does a little knitting and watches TV series in the afternoons. Time to produce some tangible output that is meaningful.
No, it is now only 8PM and I am crying again writing this. What on earth is wrong with me? This has to change... I have no more chances...
