Crawling out of my skin. That’s the best way to describe my current feelings. I can’t explain them. I don’t understand them. Yet, it’s there. Full force. Worst anxiety in quite awhile.
Why? What’s different?
I just don’t know. Yet the anxiety is unbearable. I just want to chain smoke. Disassociate and stare at walls. Scrub things until my hands are raw. Take pills until I can’t wake up for days. It’s ridiculous. Totally ridiculous.
I can recognize it’s a problem. Good first step. Now to identify the underlying reasons. Address it. Deal with it. Even if I don’t want to.
It started yesterday. Well, the full blown panic feeling started yesterday. The overthinking and insecure thoughts started days ago. Badly.
I did the yard yesterday. Thinking it would solve my issues. Keep me busy. By the end of it I just wanted to cry. Questioning what I got myself into. How will I do this the rest of my life. Why any single mom would think she was capable of maintaining a huge house and a huge yard. Alone. While working two jobs and just being exhausted. This sounds asinine. I know I’m tired. I know I’m overwhelmed. I know I love my house and keeping it is the best thing for me. Yet, I just felt such overwhelming sadness last night.
Alex (17) texted and asked if it was okay he goes to look at one of his top college choices October 11th. With my mom. I asked why her and he tells me I’m always busy. Yeah, somebody has to support us but I can do those days. Well, I’d rather go with Grandma. Okay, cool, whatever. I always thought colleges was something you do with your parent. Of course my mom is stealing that from me. Of course she’s probably promised him clothes, expensive food, etc. It obviously hurts my feelings. But it isn’t within my control. It’s his college, his happiness that matters, have a great time. While it kills me inside. She’s selfish. A normal person would encourage said child to go with their parent. Not her. It’s all about her. Then she can post on Facebook she took him and how wonderful she is. This is what she does. Always does.
So yeah, the anxiety probably started there. The overwhelming sadness.
Captain Douche has been texting. Him inside my head isn’t helping. I don’t miss him. I don’t want him back. I just hate the self doubt he recreates in me. I do so good and then boom. Here he comes. He’s basically admitted to cutting the wires. Great. Then tells me he’s going to Vegas for Halloween and needs to be divorced by 10/25. So he isn’t considered unfaithful. Bahahaha. Why start now dude. Why care now. What’s he doing in Vegas? Getting legal prostitutes of course. I can’t even make this shit up. It’s supposed to make me sad. I’m sure. It doesn’t. It’s pathetic. Who has to pay for sex? Seriously. You are a sickening excuse for a human. Yet it must make me feel something as the anxiety has only increased. I gave him no reaction. Okay. Cool. Good luck?
I feel absolutely insecure. I don’t know why. Max is great. He really, truly is. Yet, I’m filled with so many doubts – I’m not good enough. He will get bored and go away. He’ll go hook up with his ex girlfriend coworker. He’s tired of me. My therapist said I was ready to date. I thought I was. Now I’m just a ball of insecurities. Some moments I think I need to say good bye and have him go away because I’m just not enough. Beat him to the punchline. I finally laid this out last night. When he asked if I was super antsy while laying in bed. No. Just anxious. Yeah. I guess you could call it antsy. He asks why and supports that I at least know I have something going on which is good. So eventually I ramble it all out. Every feeling. Every fear. The fact I just feel so fucked up in the head. Like I’m just not good enough and never will be. He’s reassuring, comforting, all that good stuff. Yet, then I feel guilt that he shouldn’t be stuck with someone who does need constant reassurance. It’s not fair. I guess he knew I was broken when he met me. So it shouldn’t be a shock I still am today. He’s willing to deal with it. But am I?
I’m scared really. I didn’t think I could like anyone to this level again. I’d accepted I’d be best alone. Staring at walls. Then he magically comes along out of the blue and fucks that all up. Honestly – Am I falling in love with him? Yes. Easily. Quickly. And I hate it. I hate caring. I hate being anxious. I miss the girl with no feelings who didn’t give a damn if you ditched her. I want to not care, not fear, not overthink. I read a quote yesterday “It’s not the future that makes you anxious, it’s repeating the past that does.”
I don’t want to repeat the past. I can’t. It will kill me. Literally. I don’t think I can do it ever again. I’d rather die. This is nothing like the past.
Yet, it’s just scary. I’m just sad. Sad I’m so insecure. Sad my mom is stealing everything like always. Sad my anxiety is awful. Sad I need so much reassurance. Sad I feel so broken.
With that – I think I’m cancelling my plans to play trivia tonight and will just bask in my misery. Healthy? No. Do I care? No. The thought of hanging out with these specific people while crawling out of my skin is awful. I don’t want to participate.