reaching out

i did something for the 1st time yesterday. i went to speak to a therapist. the irish do not go to doctors, let alone a shrink. i did my research and found someone who deals with all the things im going thru. i need coping skills with all thats happened in this past year. ive been through a war. i have battle scars. the boys addiction & recovery, the break up, the move, my work, and recovering from an injury that set me back and helped put weight on me. im not happy. im not getting happy. i cant do it on my own. i need to learn how to start over. get it back. sleep again. breathe. relax. like myself. forgive. trust. end the pain. be proud again. look forward to tomorrow, instead of looking forward to ending today. life has never been easy. i never expected it to be. but this is something i am not strong enough to handle. finally found my breaking point.

i like her. i felt safe. i not only dont talk to docs, i dont really talk to anybody. i rarely ask for help. i dont want to seem weak. she is trying to convince me to tell those around me that im struggling. that i have mad anxiety. that sometimes i dont sleep. i cant make plans. i isolate myself. i cling to the boy, and when hes not around, i panic. that is not a way to live. i have aged 10 yrs in 10 months. she thinks i have support around me. im not so sure.

i am still fucked up about the break up. still my logical brain knows its right, but my heart hurts as if someone is squeezing it. it will never get easy to find out that they are not the person you thought they were. that you were more invested. you gave it all, and it wasnt returned. i remember in the beginning stages of this thing. when it was easy to walk away from it. when my logical brain was saying "get out! this is not for you! run and dont look back!". why didnt i listen to my logical brain> why am i so stupid. here i am. in the dark. in my room. isolating because i feel like i have nothing to offer to the world. that behind my fake smile, everyone can see just how damaged i am. i cant even fake it this time. i reek of failure.

she wants to medicate me. just for a short time. to take the "edge" off. i am not a fan of masking feelings. i am a firm believer that you are supposed to feel everything. good. bad. indifferent. she believes that this is not normal. that i cant begin to heal until i can get a clear head and just exhale. that until i can start to get better, i need a little help. im still sitting on this. i do not want to be medicated. im afraid of it. i dont want a quick fix. i want to feel better, but i want to do the work. i need tools, not band aids. ill need to do some research before i make up my mind.

i cant even grasp what its like to be happy, worry free, content, comfortable in my skin again. i try to remember the feeling, but i cant. i know it happened. i can see the images in my head. i just cant feel the feelings. my memories of good times feel like im watching other people. not me and mine. like a movie. even now, i feel like i have 1000 lbs weighing on my chest. and my thought process is in slow motion. im forcing myself to write so i have a reference for later. maybe my medicated self will need to remember, or my happy self could know what to run from. i dont know. i do know that tomorrow comes. hamster wheel all over again.