wobbly
When day after day after day the conversations never end, just snowball, it’s hard to find a minute to stop your blood from boiling.
If you don’t know where to start, sometimes you have to stop.
Given that last Autumn I was powered by adrenaline, rushing to be by mums side every single day, then having to pack away her life, it’s no wonder that this time around I’ve found myself totally f*cked mentally. I’ve quite honestly been all over the place. Wobbly. My mental health has been questioned. It’s been a dark time.
I’ve wanted to control what I can’t. I’ve felt totally bemused by more change I did not ask for, and the routine and comfort I’d found over Summer, out the window. On a scale of bad days I’d say it’s been a 6 almost everyday since mid September, mum dying a 10 obviously. But, anything unexpected, new, now throws my radar off and my reaction, I can’t control.
When day after day after day the conversations never end, just snowball, it’s hard to find a minute to stop your blood from boiling.
So, instead I’ve stayed fairly quiet out of fear, removing myself from conversations I couldn’t find the courage to delve into. I’ve had a lot on my mind, but I haven’t written about me in a while, haven’t wanted to go there, haven’t seen friends, I’ve cancelled plans, haven’t been looking after myself, haven’t been eating well, haven’t been as kind to others as I could of been. Should of been. I’ve been selfish in that respect, beginning to offload only to the one person I see everyday, sometimes forgetting he has his own stressors too, and I’m probably on that list.
When you’re in the thick of a bad mood that keeps on coming, it’s like tunnel vision. It’s hard to see any hope, any light, anything else but your anxiety and it’s suffocating for everyone. At times, I’ve found myself actively switching off, telling my brain to stay surface level and not dive into my feelings or share opinions, not to be vocal in certain situations, even when I want to cry… and I’ve cried any time anyone has asked how I am lately. Other times, the thoughts keep spilling out and spiraling. I’m panicking, it’s overwhelming and no reassurance in the world from those in my circle will bring me calm.
I’ve lost myself lately.
Made myself smaller for others.
In a bid to recharge and center myself, I last minute took some time out, away from my phone, away from work, at the start of November to wallow in the first anniversary of losing mum, which meshed with Halloween. I spent lots of time with my boyfriend, with my thoughts, with the Sims. Cooking, resting, eating snacks. I have 4 new tattoos now too, taking my total up to 20. You can’t heal from your poor mental health trip without getting a tattoo. I don’t make the rules. It felt like a reset, though only temporary.
Foolish me thought this lowkey week would all be enough to allow myself room to breathe, but by Tuesday morning back at work I found myself falling apart again. Deeming that some saw my sensitivity only as an unproductive trait…and, even though I disagreed my energy for the conversation had been zapped instantly. Internally though, I was screaming. Still am.
I’ve learnt the hard way that life is uncontrollable. All I need is some stability. I didn’t realise that was so complex to pin down.
I’m starting to fathom that your 20s in most cases maybe late teens in mine, are for friends, love and fun. By 30, there’s not only baby showers, weddings and birthdays, but hospital trips, funerals, unforgettably sad dates. This might not be your reality, most people I know my age have an abundance of love surrounding them, but my world this past year has been shaken, and I’m mad that I need to shout about my past trauma to feel understood, and yet, I still find often that my upset has perplexed others. It’s broken me down, made me question my reality and the people I thought were receptive to me.
I’m not insane for still grieving my mother or still living with the trauma of being attacked in the past year, but if you’re questioned enough, you might start to believe it. In the pit of my belly, I know how nuts that sounds. Grief lasts forever and changes your brain chemistry. Trauma too. If you’re new here read this.
Now. If I want to move forward after two ish months of new stress, I have to start telling myself and believing, this period of emotional havoc will subside. I’m cautious, but I trust it. It may be wild and unsettling, but it has to end at some point. If I can get through the loss of my favourite person in the universe, I can get through this funny time.
With that, if you haven’t noticed, I’ve decided it’s time to stop this staying silent lark. It’s time to relight my creative flame once more. It’s time to find joy again.
I don’t wish to stay quiet out of awkwardness or confusion about my own emotions or how I might be perceived. I love to write and advocate for mental health. This here is a safe space to share, so I will keep going!…even when I’m a boiling over, blubbering idiot, wobbly human.
Kate this was so beautiful and your honesty is so admirable. Can I also say, I really love the moodboard at the end, what a lovely and unique idea.