Feeling stupidly guilty about posting an entirely non-WoW related post here. There’s lots about WoW I could be saying but other things are going on (in my head mostly) and I find it’s them I want to write about. But I feel guilty about not writing about Bravetank or one of my other characters or my new auction house addiction (is there anything nicer than an inbox full of successful auctions?) But the fingers type what they will.
Life is feeling so odd right now. I’m up, then down, then up again. Poor husband doesn’t know which Michelle he’s talking to from one moment to the next (crazy excited about a new quark dessert or weeping bitter tears at the memory of some event when I was five years old). I’m in a new post in work which I love but I’m full of rage and pain over what happened previously. I wake up having arguments with the people involved even though it was all four months ago. When will that stop? I’m near to tears if I talk about it, or my heart is pumping in anger. When will that change?
There are problems in my family and they’re upsetting me. One member of my family seems destined to – unintentionally – cause the same pain and heartache to his child that was done to us both in our childhood. It seems we take many of the same roads our parents took – but for different reasons. The end is always the same though.
For me there was a high price to pay for much of what happened to me – some of which continues to be paid now. OCD is one of them only and in a way that’s the easiest to talk about because I know it sounds so crazy I can laugh about it when I talk. But really it’s not a light and frothy thing – particularly not when I’m in the throes of it. It’s a tiring exhausting thing. A thing that splits me in two - the person looking on knowing logically it doesn’t really matter if I touch a surface 16 times (always in 4 lots of 4) but the other side of me that is terrified that if – just this one time – I don’t do it (or god forbid do it but only 13 times) bad things will happen. Better be safe than sorry days says the voice that keeps me tapping. It’s always kept me tapping.
The OCD never really gets any better. It may ebb, but it always flows, and sometimes the tidal wave overwhelms me. The worst times were during exams, when I transferred universities and – oddly enough – every Xmas for as long as I can remember. Hard times. I’ve been through periods of having to list every thing I’m worried about in detail with numerous subsections under each item covering every eventuality of the anxiety and what I can do to mitigate it. Part of being safe – always protecting myself from the imagined horrors of the future. I should have been a lawyer. My pre-nup drafting skills would have been second to none. Or I’ve lost evenings unable to sit still, having to pick up every tiny bit of fluff that catches my eye, washing my hands each time because if I don’t …well I don’t know, but it will not be good. I sound insane I know. Poor husband has to just look on, or, wonderfully, will sometimes tackle whatever is troubling me himself (he’s an expert fluff eradicator). He is so patient and kind. Thankfully it doesn’t happen in work – work provides relief from it. I’ve never known why. Just as I’ve never known why Xmas makes it worse. I recently started taking medication for it, although I’m ashamed to tell many people. I feel like a failure because it’s come to this. I sense my mother’s disapproval and disappointment about it although she’s never said anything.
And the periodic limb movements – I have them when I’m sleeping (I’ve had them for the past year). They were getting worse – sometimes going on for hours. So last week I gave in and accepted medication from the doctor. Thankfully it does seem to be working. But it looks like that’s for life, there is no cure and the side effects of these tablets don’t make for pleasant reading. So it’s tablets to stop the counting and tablets to stop the twitching. What’s next?
I’m eating healthier than ever – more fruit & veg, less processed bread, less chocolate. I haven’t drunk alcohol for over a year and I don’t smoke. Yet by about 7pm each night I just want to go to sleep. Husband doesn’t see me all day and then I’m sleepy in the night. I’m great company. Exercise is going well but only on the weekend (rowed 10KM on Sunday- was sore), so I feel guilty about the lack of exercise in the week. I’m also not happy with the weighing scales (misbehaving) although husband says I’m tiny and all my clothes are still the same- I’m hoping it’s muscle but is that denial?
I love my job but feel frustrated that too many egos jostle and stand in the way of progress. I want to see results – I’m enthusiastic and committed to everything we are doing, but it is hard to drive things forward when different people have conflicting views on how to do them and challenge is not appropriate. I feel caught in the middle at all times, and not sure what’s the best action, what’s the safest action. There it is again – safety. I don’t how to be courageous and safe. Can you be both?
I want to pour my heart out to my parents about so much stuff and yet I find the only place I can do it is in my dreams. I cannot reach out to them in real life. But the desire to do it is overwhelming. Particularly to my mother.
I’m 39. I never thought I’d feel like this at my age! I feel like I’m waiting for something to start. That I’m in some sort of holding pattern. But I don’t know what I’m waiting for and what, if anything, is holding me back. Everything feels temporary and I’m really scared of that.
I wish I could hold onto the good things. I wish I could accept the darkness of the past and reassure myself that I only know it as dark because I’m now in the light. But it creeps up and scares me. And I don’t like being scared. I want to be safe.