I have always taken pride in my strength. My strength of character. My strength in times of duress.
I had a good run.
Lately? Well, for the last eight months, it hasn't been the same. Anxiety. Panic attacks. Depression.
Perhaps it's just that there is too much all at once. Dealing with one stressful or emotional situation is doable. When you're hit by one after another? When your plate overflows? It's too much for anyone really. Heck, even as I type this, I can feel the anxiety building up, the fluttery sensation that comes with it flowing right down my arms.
What makes it all worse is that I'm getting hit in directions that I didn't see coming. It's one thing to face something that is expected, an elderly grandparent's illness, for example; it's another thing when you turn to face a direction that usually provides the sun...only to be blinded by the light of your preconceived expectations and to get blindsided by a speeding truck.
I can't keep up the façade any longer. I can't keep pretending that it's all okay. It's not. I'm not.
I even turned to art this morning, seeking release. No such respite...
Façade, A Collapse
I'm not seeking help, or even sympathy, in writing this. I just need to get it out of my system. And were it not for my cursed trait of restraint, I could do better than what I have written here. Still, it's a start, I suppose...
