Please understand. This is not something I want. My head is screaming at me that I need to feel differently. That's not helpful at all.
I'm hoping this is some sort of defense mechanism triggered by something I have yet to discover. Because then, when I do discover it, I can let everything go. I'm hoping this is happening because I've been working incessantly for more than three years, and maybe I'm just tired. Because then I can get some rest and it will all go away.
My friend came to see me a couple of days ago.
Friend: When I was at your house earlier this week you seemed anxious.
I seemed anxious...because I was.
Friend: Have I done something to hurt you? Is there something wrong? It felt like you wanted me to leave.
No, you've done nothing to hurt me. Yes, something is horribly wrong. How do I tell you that, indeed, I desperately wanted you to leave?
Friend: Is this a bad time? Would you rather not talk about it?
No. I need to talk about it. I just don't know how without making me look like some psycho-weird-person, and the additional chance that I'll hurt your feelings.
I took a chance on my friend. I explained what was happening--and how it was killing me because for the first time all this "stuff" was including Darrin and my kids. That's never happened before. I told her I was afraid, and yes, I wanted her to leave, and I was feeling anxious, but it had nothing to do with our friendship--just a symptom of something I haven't yet learned how to manage. I said I was sorry. She said it was okay.
But it's not okay. Thursday I got up and went for a long run--getting home just in time to shower and dress so I could leave for a rehearsal. But I had forgotten that the lot in which I usually park was closed. I remembered, while in the shower, that I would be walking that day. In my rush I forgot to eat. I walked three miles to the rehearsal. That made my mileage for the day 10. On the three mile walk home, my blood sugar reminded me that I hadn't eaten for awhile--none that day, and little the day before, I don't know how much the day before that...you get the idea--by causing me a bit of equilibrium problem. By the time I got home I was feeling too ill to do much of anything.
I canceled my afternoon rehearsals, and did pretty much nothing the rest of the afternoon. But yesterday, my ability to control emotions was non-existent. The thought of being with anyone was not something I could deal with. I canceled work and rehearsals and played sick. I called my friend and told her I couldn't make it to our scheduled work-out. Then I stayed home and waited. Sure enough, by 10:00 the random crying jags were in full swing. I had lovely online chats with people, short ones with Ambrosia and AtP and a longer one with Tolkien Boy, while I sobbed about absolutely nothing. Thankfully, my family wasn't home to witness my embarrassing loss of control. Ugh.
The point of all this is that, in spite of my impulse to be alone, I'm trying to stay in contact with people. I walk away from those interactions, certain that I'm that odd friend everyone is nice to, because she's mentally unstable, and no one wants to be the one to tell her to go away. Then I remind myself that these are people who have said they love me--and I'm fairly certain no one paid them to say that. Most of them hug me and want to spend time with me. Tolkien Boy has even had prolonged exposure to me, one on one, including extended physical contact, and seems none the worse for it. Ugh, again.
Okay, I have to go to bed. My nightmares lately are odd beyond belief, but not scary. They leave me unsettled and always seem to involve people I love in unusual situations, or saying things completely out of character. I'm not loving sleep lately. However, I also understand that staying up is not helping any of this...situation, nor is it helping me manage the symptoms which feel completely out of control.
I'm seeing Therapist in a couple of weeks. Perhaps he can help me figure this out.
Okay, end of self-indulgent post. Just as a teaser, I haven't written for a couple of days because I've been researching something--and as usual, I get a little bit rabid about tracking down information when I think I've found pertinent data. I'm working on a post to explain what I've found and what it means to me--but that last part keeps changing, which is a bit of a challenge. So, more on that later.
I told Tolkien Boy, either yesterday or today, I'm not sure which, that I don't know how to ask for what I need. But I think I've figured it out, finally. Until I'm able to get a grip, here is what I would ask:
1. Please don't attribute the things I'm currently feeling to who I am. Those of you who know me--I'm not different--I'm just having a difficult time.
2. If you talk to me and you're someone who loves me, remind me? Please don't let me talk myself out of accepting that people genuinely care about me.
3. If you happen upon me and I'm crying like an idiot--don't notice, okay? It's not something I have any control over right now, and it feels as embarrassing as being incontinent. But it's okay if you hand me a tissue, because I probably won't have one with me.
4. Remind me that real friends stay--because that's what I keep telling myself. No one is going anywhere. I've worked very hard to get where I am, to find friends at every level, and to accept love and support from them. Remind me that I need to accept that love and support even when I feel this way--especially when I feel this way.
This will pass, right? And if it doesn't, I'll learn to manage it in such a way that it no longer interferes with me, right? Right?
I hate this so much.