Tag Archives: anxiety

A Slave to Control

I’m either an enabler who can’t say anything or a control freak for opening my mouth – that’s how I feel. I feel trapped over the stupidest shit, and in the end I know it’s because I use control to prevent anger outbursts because that’s the defective wall I hide behind versus saying I’m vulnerable, but where’s the room for me to say that in this situation?

It was shaming, blaming, and “no I’m not willing to talk about this” crap. I’m trying to turn it inward and ask myself where the panic comes from, where the emotions come from, and all I know is that my fear of being controlling starts with my mom from raising her children and needing to maintain the household (effectively losing my childhood), and my fear of not being able to speak up and therefor give in to enabling comes from living with my dad. He was so micromanaging that if I spoke up I’d be punished, so shut the fuck up and get it done. I’d ask him why something needs to be done and the answer was to get in my face and retort “because I said so.”

I hate myself for feeling so unbalanced, for feeling the need for control beyond a healthy limit – it mirrors codependency so damn much…. Then the moment I meditate I lose the ability to process the emotion. I do practice “rain” and attempt to re-parent my inner child by talking to my emotions as the were their own entity because in a very real way they are; each emotion is an isolation, a frozen state of time that I haven’t processed. Sadness is my early childhood, anger is my preteen/teen years, and somewhere between they evolve. Touching those emotions is touching a fragment of time and I’m shocked – it’s been 10 years since I’ve lived in a state of obsession under my parents roof, recalling every wrong, replaying every detail, and I walked away from it because I figured out it was hurting me more than it was helping, but damn… This would have been easier to deal with 10 years ago….

I’m speechless within myself, unable to conclude where to end this inner dialogue… Something feels so incomplete and I don’t know what it is.


Numb for Words


I am so tired… Drained. Exhausted. Beside myself in weariness and weakness. The journey inward is exhausting. Self-care is exhausting. Emotions are exhausting. Everything is just… So… I can’t put it into words. This is one of those moments I wish I was more familiar with languages beyond my own, since the English language is both confusing and left in wanting for depth in its meaning.

I’m hungry for meaning.. I’m drained by meaning.

Somehow I still don’t grieve… It’s like a tidal wave that threatens to break but never does, leaving surfers everywhere bummed out and disappointed.

Disappointed… This word resonates with me somehow… Is that why I’m so tired inside? Am I disappointed in myself; disappointed that I’ve suddenly stalled on the emotional front of healing but immersed in literature that keeps me moving forward? It’s possible, but it’s not everything I’m connecting with.

Feeling sad somehow would be better in this moment for at least the source would be more discernalble without all this stagnancy…. Am I being impatient with myself, and my psyche won’t allow me to break anymore than I’ve conquered? Ugh… I’m tired… So tired…

There’s so much I should be happy about too; got home from a doctors visit where I stepped on a scale for the first time in 6 months and found out I lost 25 pounds without trying, I hung out with Alex today and discovered the most gorgeous wooded area in Newmarket with trails and dams and richness from all angles. I got money in the bank account and am able to afford ubers for the next few days. My laptop was finally fixed and I can pick it up tomorrow… There’s so much to rejoice… It can’t be the new SSRI’s I’m taking, which I have to say, I’m pretty impressed with. After 6 months of use the neuro receptors for seretonin should have created more openings to allow for emotional regulatity, so I won’t be on them forever (which is always my fear). I have no problem with other people taking anti-anxiety meds or anti-depressants and respect everyone who does, but the moment I take them I fear I’m crazy and condemned…. And Ben…


His damn tone of voice when it comes to me taking medications bothers the fuck out of me sounding arrogant and conceited; it was becaus of our fight I was brought so low to this point and now… I have next to nothing in terms of trust for him. There’s so much anger and hurt and feelings of deception around him… But I don’t want to think on that now; between stressed and being tired, I’ll take tired any day.

i miss me. I don’t know why I feel compelled to say this but I do… I miss me but yet I’m right here… Why does something feel so wrong?

What have I done…

Moving Forward

I walk to receive my Bachelors next month.

I’m starting my new term next Monday.

I’m officially done on my birthday in June.

I submitted my application for my Masters degree program today.

I pray to God I get in…

I can’t tell if the anxiety is good or bad, but it’s present.

This is a very different kind of dream… this dream is real.

Dreaming of What Will Never Come


Ugh! I had the most unrealistic but amazing dream about him. ūüė¶ *sigh*

I was at the church, and it was the first time we’d seen in person in years. I walk into the church and he’s in the waiting area, looks at me, looks to the ground, mumbles something about my name to himself in a rather sad and beckoning voice -I think it was actually a greeting, and heads out the door to putter around the front. I put my bible down in one of the pews and, sensing he wanted to talk to me, I leave out the front door, but I am uncertain if I should say hi. He comes around two more times as I make my way to the swings; again he mutters something under his breath and leaves. There was something strange about the condition of the swings – they were ruined, and damaged tree stumps are now where you would sit to swing, four of these stumps to be exact.They had rough edges uneven edges with some of the bark missing. They compacted together in the center, almost in the shape of a 4 leaf clover.

Finally I have no choice. I walk on over to Jay calling out his name. He ignores me now, so I pick up the pace and jog on over to him. I catch him after he’s walked across the street to one of the houses. I mention something about the swings, and how its a shame its been ruined, and he agrees. We start having this light conversation about something insignificant, but he’s hovering over me. He seems sad.

I tell him I miss him – and he says he misses me too. I grab hold of his hand for a little bit, and he stands up against me and holds me in his arms. I return the favor with a hug too. I bury my face into his chest, then shift so my head rests on his shoulder. He leans his head down so I feel how scruffy it is. Its only a little rough – and I enjoy it. I brush my cheek and nose up against his rough cheek – and in a move that’s beyond bold, I peck his cheek in a way I think is barley noticeable. He smiles, looks down at me, closes his eyes, and rests his lips against mine. I shift a little bit and purse my lips to form a kiss. It was just enough to encourage him, because he does the same and finishes what was started with a small kiss. My whole body was alight with sexual desire and need for him. In that one kiss, the sum of my teen years somehow seemed fulfilled, yet the promise of more was now looming in the air. It was everything I had ever hoped for. We back up a little and smile. I blush and stare down; he stares down and kinda kicks one foot. We look at each other again. He takes my hand and we walk towards the back entrance of the church – smiling like goofy idiots. Hell, I am a goofy idiot.

We make it inside and I forget what happens, but I know I wander off and find Stephanie. We start to talk it up and Jay comes back around and sits with us. I comment on how were short just two people from having the group back together – the bachelders. We start to laugh it up and talk, but then the dream shifts into the “general hospital” style drama.I was just conscious enough to find the concept of the new dream stupid, and I start to miss him, and I wake up.

Now that I’ve had a chance to process it – that was intense; too intense. Normally my dreams of him are bad – heart breaking even. I just dont understand why for two nights in a row now I’ve had such dreams about him. I must confess I miss him, but I don’t have any desire to actually approach him, and I have no idea how I’d react if he approached me. All I can say is that I hope today is a good day.

Oh – the symbolism of the swings being destroyed. I wonder why it was destroyed and rough tree stumps were left in its wake. The swing was there, but lay in shambles around it. I was heartbroken. I guess in real life those swings remind me of a happier time – my favorite times spent with him. Maybe it has something to do with that.

Death by the Joker: Nightmare

FINALLY IT WORKS! I’ve been trying to get a fucking blog up and WordPress is so good at making it NOT work for me! I bring up the page, it loads, and it wont let me type anything. You’re lucky my love for you has become an addiction or I’d rape your programmable ass. The other big error I get is 324. Fucking hell…

Anywho, this IS a dream blog. I haven’t seen the new batman movie and yes, I’m aware of the tragedy that unfolded in Colorado (rest in peace.) It was awful but I’ve been keeping at a distance from it because of how intense the whole thing is. When children become victims I cant take it. Never the less, I had a horrifying nightmare about the Joker that left me trembling for 15 minutes after I woke up. I’ve never been so scared like that from a dream in my life. I warn you now: it’s bad.

I was a detective in this New York looking urban area. The chief had been following the latest strings of crime from the Joker and noticed he was kidnapping women and murdering them, only to allow their bodies to be found and purposefully making the kidnappings predictable so he can BE followed. I was assigned to his case to figure out if he was going to be where the chief suspected, who he’s targeting, why, and to have a team ready once he made his move.

Moments later I found myself in a train station below the city, tracking the joker. He was in that nurse outfit from the dark night with the face paint all by himself, waiting for the next train to unload it’s passengers. I was waiting at a distance behind a concrete support-beam to watch what unfolds. A train passes, and a group of people get off to the right, not knowing the Joker was right there. People randomly walk by him as he randomly licks his lips, twitches, paces back and forth with his head down, and finally, he snatched someone. She was this completely random thin woman in heals and a black business skirt and coat. She screamed and struggled to get away. Next thing I see is a crowd of people walking by just long enough to let me see her escape, but not see where the Joker ran too. Next thing I see is his arm wrapped around my neck and he’s dragging me off. Captured.

I found myself in a middle class suburban house in a¬†completely¬†innocent and unsuspecting neighborhood. I was paralyzed with fear, and knew that in order to live, I needed to do as he says, play into his schemes, or come up with better ideas for him if it meant being able to escape for even a moment. What happened next was horrifying, and I never would have thought I could have uttered such a thing in fear to preserve my life. I‚Äôm lying on the couch waking up to find him hovering near me. He looks at me and say‚Äôs ‚ÄúOh good, you‚Äôre up. Put this inside of you between your legs.‚ÄĚ It was a remote¬†detonated¬†bomb what was definitely¬†bigger than I could fit. I knew if I told him no he‚Äôd kill me, and the only thing I could say was that I needed lube or I couldn‚Äôt get it in. He pulls out this already open and rolled out condom and shakes violently as he puts lube inside the condom. Then he throws it on the coffee table and paces back and forth while having this paranoid¬†schizo¬†episode, mumbling under his breath about trying to create the next plan using me since the bomb idea wasn‚Äôt going to work.

I get up from the couch and look towards the door. Its open and unlocked, except for the screen door in front of it which is really easy to open. On the Jokers possession was a switch blade he could easily attack me with, or throw it straight at me should I try to run. I was trapped and scared like a mouse in a corner, knowing this cat was about to fucking murder me. He started verbally planning about cutting me open and inserting a bomb to send me off with, and he had no medical equipment, which means he was going to do it with me alive and bleeding everywhere. I tried to suggest something less painful like strapping a bomb to me and walking me out into public, but I couldn’t take it. I was going to die and there was nothing I could do no matter how hard I tried.

I woke up trembling all over, horrified at what I had said for the sake of avoiding death for even a few minutes. He didn’t kill me, but that doesn’t change the aftershock….