Honestly I had no intention of letting my blog go so long without writing more – but days became weeks, and weeks became months, and…
I had lots to write about. Right from the last time I posted, I had a flow of continuous ideas. It isn’t even like I forgot about it. I think of writing all the time.
Well, here I am about 3 months after I wrote my last post, and all I can say is, “sorry.”
February was a really hard month for me. December of 2017 was a hard month as I was so very depressed the entire month. January was good. I think we had a lot of sun in January, and seem to remember the snow melting for a while.
February, however, was bad. Day after day my panic attacks were overwhelming me. It was exhausting! I couldn’t calm down, no matter what I tried. So when I thought about posting, having decided to write when I was not wanting to vent, the panic would shut me down.
I couldn’t do it.
Each night throughout February and most of March, I would take Valerian to sleep. For me, Valerian is one of the only things I have tried that calms my panic attacks enough to sleep – and fast, too! I could be in a full blown panic attack, take Valerian, and 5 minutes later feel calm. Yet it puts me to sleep, and I can’t take it during the day.
The anxiety was too much for me.
And when I am anxious, my thoughts fixate. This is why I was also diagnosed with OCD on top of my autism. When I say “fixate,” I mean it. Six to seven weeks of panic over the apathy people have to the treatment of animals (factory farms.)
My panic wasn’t initially triggered by those thoughts, but it is more that I “crashed,” which I do often. It turned to anxiety, which it often does. The panic pulled out those thoughts which often cause me trouble. And then they wouldn’t let go.
I can’t understand…
People respond to ‘vegans’ as if they think they are better than other people (Christians too for that matter,) but for me it is the opposite. Since I was a child I have felt an overwhelming sense of inferiority to just about everyone around me. I never feel “too good” for other people, but rather, “not good enough.”
But my mind can’t reconcile the thought of a world of people, most better than me, being accepting of such extreme cruelty. It doesn’t make sense to me. And I feel so helpless, which reminds me over and over of what a failure I see myself as. So… panic.
I don’t remember what good thing happened, but as an expression my husband said, “We should kill the fatted calf.” (Biblical from the story of the prodigal son.)
I responded, “That is cruel!”
He said, “Well…” in the same tone someone would use to say “Meh…” (Is that the word? I never use it, but have heard it often enough.)
I don’t understand.
I don’t understand.
I just don’t.
Anyway, what started out as days became weeks, and the weeks became months. The longer I avoided writing, the harder it was to write. So here I am (on a “trigger day” no less, being “my” youngest daughter’s birthday – but that is another story) making an attempt to start again.