My brain is a collection of brains and this will make sense soon…

So recently I posted to social media this image that I made:

MyBrain.jpg

 

It’s how I see my brain. I know it’s kind of weird, but it works in my head. (Heh, see what I did there).

My asshole brain (AB) has been messing with me a lot lately. Lying to me, making me think I’m not good enough. Since it’s right up front, it filters everything through. It deliberately misinterprets things, over-reacts to things, etc. It’s been making interpersonal communication a real challenge, moreso than usual with the fibro fog stealing my words now they’re also getting twisted and coming out seeming harsh or critical or unfriendly. I don’t know how. They sound fine in my logic brain, but once they’ve squeezed past all the fuzzy critters and self-esteem issues, they’re tired, so asshole there snickers and changes them up somehow before dropping them on people like a wet turd.

In the last 2 days, an absolutely ridiculous misunderstanding with a friend I generally respect and adore on the Facebook blew that turd back into my face, metaphorically speaking. I’m still not even sure why what I said wasn’t being taken as ‘this is my opinion, I am sharing’ and was taken as ‘You are wrong, and I’m going to tell you you’re wrong and try to fix you you wrong person’ (at least this is how AB interpreted the responses… see, it was just convoluted all around). Said friend’s phrasing was such that made me pull back into myself hard.

And that’s when everything went hooey, if you’ll pardon the ‘Down With Love’ paraphrase. Anxiety and depression brains got so freaked out by the entire situation they tried to implode on themselves and splattered shit all over everything.

 

Now that my ridiculous explanation is done…

 

The last 2 days I’ve spent in a depressive spiral. That deep, gut-punch, body-wide-wrenching-pain-filled, repeatedly crying in the bathroom at work, dark hole place. I decided to take a break from facebook for a few days, maybe longer. The situation that was the catalyst is a non-issue, I haven’t looked back at it. I turned off notifications. I had to unfollow the friend for awhile because the fear of seeing posts on my timeline was enough I nearly threw up. (Which is RIDICULOUS, considering this person wouldn’t deliberately set out to hurt or upset me, but… see above, AB).

I am currently unmedicated for diagnosed anxiety and depression, and for quasi-diagnosed fibromyalgia. I cannot afford to see a doctor (because my insurance really is that bad at the moment) in order to get the chemical balance I need. I have to rely on my own self-awareness and the kindness of my tribe to keep me afloat. Right now it’s the only thing keeping me from completely drowning. I’ve been able to talk to a couple of people a little. I’m so tired, so done with hurting all the time, weary to all hell of pulling my emotions back to cannibalize themselves, because they’re too big for me to feel properly so how could anyone else POSSIBLY understand.

I haven’t told anyone directly how bad it is. I should, but getting the words out there to a person who will come back with kindness, advice and comfort seems to make me feel exponentially worse. Like I don’t deserve it, like I’m a failure for needing it. Like I’m letting everyone down.

So I’m posting it and I’m going to share this across my social media. I need to be my own mental check, because I’m the only one who can advocate for me (and nobody is going to know to keep a weather eye on me if I don’t put the info out there. I’m really, really good at hiding things).

Today, for the first time in about 11 years, I looked over the bridge (literal and figurative) and thought ‘Maybe I should just get it over with… ‘

I stopped the thought there and kept walking. But it shook me. (Am actually shaking attempting to type this). I had honestly forgotten what THIS PLACE felt like. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I don’t want to be here. I’m currently standing on my awareness of the situation to get at least a little separation. I spent my entire day in that place, trying to get a handle on my own emotions. Little bastards.

I am very fortunate I have some very good people who know what I struggle with, who are quick to pick up on unspoken cues, even if it’s not the ones they realize. As soon as  I posted my temporary separation from the book of face, I had two people immediately ask me if I was okay or otherwise express it in their way, and have had a few here and there over the entire day just sort of gently touching base. It’s helped. (You know who you are. Thank you).

It probably seems and will seem odd if I’m acting normal, happy, etc, when a lot of it is just that- an act. That’s just me doing what I need to do, putting on the façade in hopes it’ll sink in past my skin soon. I’m not going to say I’ve evened out or normalized, but bits and pieces of normalcy have crept in to drag me back a bit from the abyss. I need to actively work at it, moreso than usual, but I’m not quitting just yet.

Still here. I’m still breathing.

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