Locked Up

There have been a few things that have gone on of late, some of which I don’t want to go into the detail that have taken my attention away from writing. Writing as you all know has been my solace, my safe space and my time to allow all my thoughts and feelings to come pouring out. For some reason I stopped, didn’t just taper off, just stopped.

I had so many other things and people that needed my attention and I gave up on myself, I gave up on my own self care, I started doing what I always do, giving to other people and forgetting about myself. Something that we can all be accused of doing daily and if the verdict were to come in I’m sure that they will all read guilty.

I have managed to keep one thing for myself, although sometimes I feel so jaded about it. I’m actually back in school, re-training after a hiatus of thirteen long years of no study, no assignments but more than enough deadlines over years of being in management. I have decided to find my passion again, what it is that I love to do each morning, my reason for getting out of bed. 

Whilst I think I have found it and I’m actually enjoying being back sat at my kitchen table with my books and my highlighters I’m am full of self doubt and criticism. In fact the usual line that passes through my head is “what the hell are you doing woman? Starting again at 34, a new career, a new life, a new way of doing things?”. 

I have felt the usual pangs of depression and anxiety take over me, wanting my bed, no concentration, no motivation and just wanting peace and quiet. I know these feelings, I have danced with them one too many times now. I know that they want to take over and I’m fighting to keep my head above water. I can’t blame it on all on just my feelings of self doubt, there are so many other things that I am dealing with at the moment that attribute to it, but I wonder why, in these times I always turn inward on myself?

What is it about me that takes everything so personally, that makes me feel like I have to be Wonder Woman? Believe me, after so many years of trying to keep my cape clean, as Chica would say, it is now time to put it in the dry cleaners and give myself a damn break. I try so hard for all the ones I love, if they are not safe and happy then I know I stand no chance of being in the right place. I have given my life over to making sure my loved ones are safe, and yet I am so hard on myself.

I apologise if I am ranting, it is just at the moment this is what is coming out of my head, a blur of all the things that I want to say and all the tings that I need to get across that are probably not making that much sense. I am scared of so many things at the moment and I am fully aware that it is my anxiety that is talking, making me question myself and making me feel like I don’t belong. The amazing thing about all of this, is that I am at a point in my life where I have so much going for me, new career on the horizon, new chapter in my life beginning and a family that is full of love. Still I’m living on my nerves. 

It is so obvious with me, I really am like an open book, Champagne Charlie tells me all the time, he can read me cover to cover and give you the notes. It only takes me going silent. If that happens, then everyone knows. It is so funny, you think your depression is yours and yours alone. You convince yourself that if you play games and “keep” a certain outward appearance then you can keep things, no not things, people at bay. You can’t! What most people with depression forget or just plainly don’t know, is that your depression feeds into those who are around you and as you learn to deal with your triggers, your support network (if you are lucky to have one) learn what your traits are too.

I’m petrified of change, I’m petrified of going into the unknown, leaving everything that has become some comfortable to me, which if I am honest is the nest that I have built myself within the last 18 months. Ask me to run the world from here and I can, no problems. I have built myself a place where I am “safe”, where I am able to control my surroundings, control what I do and control what or who I can let get to me. Realistically, what I have done is put myself behind bars.

I have confined myself to a world where I am serving 23 and 1 but I didn’t commit a crime (for those who are not aware, 23 and 1 is solitary confinement in the prison system). I am out in the world for an hour a day and the rest I am in my “safe space”. I’m now starting to think it is time to find my escape route. I need to plan my way out of this, for my own self preservation. It is time to start living, find my ladder and start climbing out of this hole that I have found myself in. I will make it, just like all of us with a sense of determination will. You have to hit the bottom to be able to rise to the top and we will rise.


The girl 


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