I feel as if I'm caught in a maelstrom of anxiety.
I can't escape it. No matter what I do; it's unshakable.
I'm stuck in the fucking anxiety Titanic. And I think I just hit the iceberg.
I'm saying that based on the fact that I'm hiding on my bed typing and drinking a vodka lemonade with six months worth of accumulated shit (figurative) dumped out of my purse in front of me. Instead of dealing with the cat shit (literal) that's currently waiting for me in the garage that I had intended to focus on.
Yesterday everything I ate tasted like crap. Today everything I have eaten has also tasted weird. The difference is that today I don't even feel like eating.
Concentrating in order to keep myself breathing at regular intervals, yes.
Eating? Not so much. No.
I've spent half of my life thus far going around trying to help fix other people. But I don't know how to fix myself.
There are very few people who know me well enough to know how to fix me. And none of them are anywhere near me (physically, spiritually, geographically, whatever). I guess I'm lucky that only one of them is gone from my life completely.
I don't know if I can take two more months of this.
What if it never goes away? What if the things I think may be causing it are really not what's at the heart of the situation? What do I do then?
And why do I keep feeling so emotionally starved?
I am so tired of being crazy.
P.S. I have a story for you. But it's a funny story for a funny day. Obviously that day is not today.