Crash and Burn

 I spiraled to an all time low last night. One of the darkest places I have ever emotionally been in. And I have an ongoing horror production riding rodeo in my head. The deepest root feeling I got to was, unworthiness. I have been anxious since I saw the news about my Psychiatrist's office. Disbelief, then distrust came creeping in and dragging along it's friend, Paranoia. A spiral began. Panic attacks more frequent, feelings of complete overwhelm offset by a hyper fixation on sewing. Messages started coming in from Etsy customers, ALL on the same DAY! It was more than a coincidence in my mind. I lost control. Somewhere in those moments, I lost control and headed into the forest in a nose dive. I can't detail all the turbulent moments before the crash; but I was able to survey the wreckage and pinpoint a place on the map. 

Tears have been streaming for days. Anxiety, the driving force of me surveying the damage. Here I am, back in this space. The wreckage is still smoking. I'm sitting against a strong wood, with green and other colors at my feet. I'm hazy. I don't even care that I've wrecked. I welcome the vacation. I imagine palms swaying above, tickling the gray skies, trying to get at least a little blue out. Clouds and rain roll in. It is part of nature, I can't curse the rain the earth needs because I am not in the position to stay dry at the moment.Yesterday I was in emotional hell. I spiraled quicker than I have in a long while. Fighting with myself over masking, keeping my chin up and staying strong, or just giving in. I spent the day in bed. 

Today, a social media one year memory came up on TikTok. It has been one year since my official diagnosis of ADHD. It has been another passing year of working on healing and understanding. Yesterday, I had never felt so incapable before. The feelings of worthlessness were so deep, it scared me. Ghosts started creeping up out of my closet, reminding me of things. I just watch them, and they watch me. They bring me gifts, reminders, loose threads. Sometimes, I pull out the sewing needle and start piecing things together with the threads. Sometimes, I ask to sit in the closet with them. And sometimes, I just push it all back into the closet and convince myself they are not there. But, I hear them, rattling around. They don't scare me, I just don't know why they linger. 

I am having this mental tug of war between pushing myself, and just giving myself a break. Wishing I had a therapist and knowing I don't have the energy to search. This crash site is an excellent place to start a new recovery.