Overwhelmed, And Then Some.
Lately I’ve been feeling run down. It’s hard to admit to myself, but I’m feeling anxious again, anxious in ways that I find hard to explain to people. Well, not that I’ve tried. I’m a master at bottling things up until I explode. Or, in most cases, break down.
Everything has been piling up. Things are starting to get out of control, and I don’t know how to get them back. I’m terrified of the midterms I have coming up already. The thought of failure is crippling. And yet I lack any motivation to study. I’m stuck at a standstill, and can’t seem to get myself moving.
I’m terrified. I’m not quite sure of what, but I’m terrified. My heart pounds for no reason, my mind flitting around to every horrible outcome it can come up with. Life just feels so overwhelming.
My sister is here visiting me for a week. That should be great, right? It’s awesome to see her again since it’s been a few months. Even positive changes are stressful, though, and trying to find interesting things to go out and do is just one more thing I don’t know how to manage into my already stressful days.
Right now my sister and I are living with James at his parents’ house while they are away on vacation. I thought living here with him would be great, but I can’t help but feel like he would rather have the house to himself. His parents were kind to let us stay here, but I guess I didn’t really talk to James about it beforehand. And now I’m here just feeling kind of unwanted. I worry that if James and I really did live together at some point that he wouldn’t be able to handle being around me all the time. He needs space from me, and even though I understand it, it kind of hurts.
Sadly, I’m not very good at knowing when I need to take a step back and relax. I hold all these worries in because I feel like letting them out will allow them to take over my whole life. Instead I just wait until my body starts to shut down on me. The fatigue, the nausea, the digestive distress. None of them have a reason. They’re just… there. Harassing me, nudging me, trying to get my attention.
And I haven’t been listening. To my body, or to myself. I don’t know what’s best for me. I don’t know what I need to not feel anxious. And the fear of becoming anxious again is enough to make my anxiety even worse.