Coping. I’m thinking about what coping means as I feel like I’m doing a terrible job of it at the moment. I’ve been hiding how I’m feeling from those close to me and only really venting or being honest on this blog. I had a solid amount of sleep last night but it was littered with anxious dreams, nightmares and just bizarre thoughts and happenings in general. Dreams often jump from thing to thing and last night was no exception. I woke up shaking and my stomach was already churning and in agony. The physical pain and upset is nothing in comparison to the mental equivalents. I am trembling to my core again today, my brain is completely restless and my body is too as a result. I can see how people turn to using and other methods of coping as this is consistently draining and I’m not entirely sure I can handle it anymore.
I don’t know how to attack this or to manage it or to arrange my thoughts/feelings in my head to make more sense and to stop my brain from constantly sabotaging me and my happiness. I’ve returned to fearing that I’m going to lose everything and for it to happen in a nasty and probably violent way somehow. Terrifying thoughts of what’s going to transpire and absolute anxiety over being hurt by those I love (because they no longer love me in return) are running wild in my brain, both consciously and subconsciously. The breathing exercises, the grounding, the medication are all reasonably effective counter-measures but nothing seems to be dampening this burning fear and panic. I feel like dousing it with drugs/alcohol but I’ve never done this before and wouldn’t know where to start or what my body could/couldn’t handle and the thought of doing that brings a list of its own anxieties. I don’t want to hurt anyone or let anyone down with my actions so I won’t resort to anything of the sort.
I’m running out of ideas on how to break this down or fight it every single day of my life. It always leads me back to dark, awful thoughts of doing silly/drastic things. I’m tired, always tired. I put on a brave face and lie to almost everyone about how I really feel because I don’t want people worrying about me or not being able to understand what I’m feeling but pretending to. It’s selfish, I’m a selfish person. But I can never be so ultimately selfish in removing myself from this situation, no matter in what context that is. I cannot leave my son, I cannot put my family through such heartache. I’ll struggle on for them but the reality is, without them, I’d already be gone. That’s a hard thought to live and cope with but it’s absolutely accurate, I hate that I hate myself so much and I hate that I am permanently fighting a losing battle with my mind. Always hoping for a miraculous recovery though.