Black Sheep

I think I've come a long way of understanding and processing my anxiety, yet there's some situations where all of this seems to crumble to pieces, pieces in which I find many mes looking at one another while the core is laying at the bottom of the pit that I've fallen into.

One if these specific situations is visiting my parents.

It starts with the uncomfortable gut feeling that something unpleasant is coming. This occurs immediately when I've made to think that I need to visit them again someday, and it comes to stay when I know when it'll happen. I get struck by continuous stress two days prior, I don't sleep well the night before, and I feel especially alert before I need to leave, like I'm preparing for something bad to happen. On my way there, I can most of the time, surprisingly, think about all kinds of other things; like simply the public transportation system that I'm in, oh I'm passing the city area that I used to see every day when I used to go to the trade school (well that's a lof of flashbacks for another day).. my bus is a bit late but that's actually more than alright.. And as usual I pay a lot of attention to my phone, 'cause that's what I just do a lot in public transports. Then I feel like I'm taking this leap when I take couple of steps to press the door code, walk a lil bit ahead and then turn left, some more steps and I need to knock. Shit. I'm in.

I'm back in this flat, this thing that I once called home - or I was supposed to call home, I don't exactly know where that line crosses anymore, and I didn't even for four years when I still lived there. I can immediately see the past me doing chores, taking shoes off in the place that I'm taking my shoes off.. Growing into being me. I shrug. I go wash my hands and partly pretend like none of this process has happened, is happening, in my head, nothing in particular has lead me to this, no, I simply do it as kids usually do. Yeah right.

Getting to put the shoes back on reminds me of the feeling when I got to finally hold the keys to my first flat, I can feel the rush of freedom and relief in every cell of my body. I don't feel good about what happened, but I do feel good that I don't get asked about it anytime soon. Except that I do get asked about it a lot before I get myself out of the car. I get all the reminders that no, even when you get to go home now, you'll have to do this all over again.

Aaand then I'll be spending the rest of the evening/night processing this whole thing and trying to shake off the insane amount anxiety that I have, that essentially quite literally stops my stomach from working and I realize that I actually should need the bathroom sometime, 'cause that's what humans usually do.. If I'm lucky, I don't start to dissociate yet, and when I do, I manage to snap out of it on the morning, that it won't ruin the next day - which usually doesn't happen. This night I'll be spending more or less shaking/crying and bouncing back to being half numb. It's like I'm trying to battle the dissociation, while my body is still in shock and/or starting to recover from it, and I just don't want to take any of this in. I wish to just forget it. It's this little personal limbo of mine, trying to find a non-hurting corner in my own brain, and when I don't, I get quite literally thrown out and eventually break back in.


I wrote this piece midst everything a week ago, and I finally managed to come back to it. For me weekends are Sat-Mon nowadays, so I usually find a lot of peace and comfort in Friday nights, which is partly why I'm here; rats playing on the floor while re-reading this and deciding that it'd be a really good thing to actually get this thought flow out. So whoever might be reading this, to me in the future, please know that you're not alone. This is just one piece of the many journeys in your life. You're bigger than this.
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