Anxiety

DATE: Sep 12 2008, 6:44 pm / MOOD: Lonely

Why am I the way I am. It's true,  I do not have all the answers. Not even close. In  my writing, I try to uncomplicate my language by leaving my words naked, and free from emotion through style. I am writing simple, because my thoughts are crowded with unsimple drama. Im trying to escape myself through creating an uncomplicated letter to myself.

Why am I such an emotionally dependant person. Why is that. Why do I feel the need to have someone love me in order for me to feel some sort of self worth. I am overly sensitive, and become emotionally distraught over diminutive things in my life. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I allow myself to become victomized through my emotions. Why. I do not know.

I am an obsessive person in many ways. I obsess. I become consumed by obsession. I want to feel normal. What is normal. To feel typical, customary, common, average, routine, conventional. I do not know what that means.

As a child, I can remember worrying about everything. Anything I could think of worrying about, I did. Sometimes I feel like I want a ticket out. I want to go to a place where my mind can be at peace. I look around at people sometimes, and there is not one person I wouldn't rather be. It may sound like a cliche even to myself, but somehow the grass may be greener on the otherside.

When I was on Effexor, My problems and worries would somehow hybernate for a certain amount of time. This does not mean they were not present, and I was not aware. My worries and problems were put on a shelf. I felt numb, and lifeless on some ocassions. I felt and still presently feel sometimes like I am in limbo. I don't know where I belong! I don't quite understand the full meaning of my emotions and feelings.

I am a person who loves to laugh. I am funny, and goofy. I am sensitive to others. I still wear my heart on my sleeve, because that is who I am. I am stubborn, and very sensitive. I love people, and children. I am patient and impatient. I have yet to gain the knowledge of self love. Someday I would like to obtain this knowledge. If it even is a knowledge.

I am my gradfather's favorite. My mother told me that. Why was I his favorite. What made me more loveable than my five other siblings. I do not gloat when I mention this small detail of my childhood. I am mearly questioning why. I do not know.

Maybe if I lean over a pond, and see my reflection in the water, I can see myself better, but there are no ponds near me. I do not enjoy looking in the mirror everyday. I see who they saw as a child in school. Someone who wasn't worth an opinion. 

I have nothing to hide. I do not know all the answers. Although one or two would be nice.

Sincerely,

Josie

 

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DATE: Sep 10 2008, 1:09 pm / MOOD: Mellow

I grew up in the country, My older sister by five years, and my two younger brothers. We weren't rich, but made do with what we had. We had eachother, that was so much fun! Surrounded by our small country home were farmer's fields. Also surrounding our home, were about thirty maple trees, and I swear I climbed every one of them. I was a tom boy and loved to play in the dirt, and imagine all day long. My sister and I would sit in our treehouse and guard ourselves with rifles we had made from scraps of wood we found, behind the old wooden shed in our backyard. Gaurding ourselves from two very annoying antagonists; Little brothers..........

Early morning, as the sun was setting all of us kids would pack a lunch and wander across the farmer's field towards the 'Sandpit'. Mosquitos biting at our legs, and sharp twigs brushing against our bare  arms, we were soldiers. Our imagination had no limits. The 'Sandpit' was a large sandy, vacant piece of land. There used to be old barns that burnt down, just after we moved in to our home in the country. There was a large maple tree laying hoplessly on it's side. A pathetic tree with no meaning or hope. Us kids, we gave the tree pride. I was the captain and the tree was a ship. I was a captain everyday, and my ship was always loyal to me. My ship was always where I left it, and I felt like a hero. No person ever made me feel that way. As odd as it sounds...Yes it was only a tree, but that tree is one of my fondest childhood memories.

My older sister, would dig forts with my dad's old shovel he let us borrow. The forts were actual holes dug in the dirt. My job was to walk into the forest and gather enough branches and twigs I could find to cover the fort. This way, we were able to conceal ourselves from the enemies.

The forests surrounding the 'Sandpit' and farmers fields, had many treasures to be found. Old cans to be dug up, old coke bottles and even photos of past generations. We had so much fun pretending we were detectives and gathering all the treasures we found. There was even a a small creek. The sun always beat down hard against the rocks. Us kids, would find old sticks and twigs, and with a shoelace tied onto the sticks, we had fishing rods. We would store our tadpoles we coght that day in a spare maison jar, my mother let us use.

As a child I would run everywhere barefoot. I made mud pies, and cought garder snakes with my bare hands.In autumn, I would collect all the colored leaves from the ground, and paste them in a book. I played with dolls, I loved my dolls. I can still smell 'posey' the rose scented doll I had got when I was around five years old. Listening to the record player on a saturday afternoon, with a handful of toys and books to keep my young mind occupied.

My dad working long hours at the barbershop, us kids around the kitchen table, wearing aprons, baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. The smell of the cookies when they came out of the oven. My mother always made evrything so special for us kids. We didn't  just exist, we were included and that made us happy.

I want my childhood back. I still feel her inside me. I can almost reach out and grab it, but even I know that is impossible. That child is still inside of me, and she will never die............

Sincerely,

Josie

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DATE: Sep 09 2008, 7:36 pm / MOOD: Fearful

I worry about everything all the time. When one thing doesn't worry me anymore it is quickly replaced with another worry. I worry about small insignificant things.  I worry about anything and everything. Im sick of worrying myself sick if that makes any sense.

I worry and obsess about everything. I want peace of mind. I am my own worst enemy. Sometimes I even convince myself that something has happened or is a different way that really is. I know better, but it's like I am at battle with my thoughts 24/7. Do you know what that feels like..... To never have peace of mind......

Sure, I have good days, just like everyone else... Assuming no one is worst off than myself, which is completely biased on my part. I have day's where I dont have a care in the world.

I wake up in the morning, and I know there is something I need to worry about, and sometimes it doesn't quite hit me right away...... but shorty after I remember. I worry about worrying.

When I worry to the point where it makes me ill...I can't eat, listen to my favorite music, my sons voice makes me cringe. I become an enemy, not only to those around me, but certainly to myself.

Worrying is controlling my life. If you were to know me in person, you would have no idea how I suffer inside. I keep it inside me, and I try healing myself.

Some days, I don't enjoy anything. I can't watch television, small tasks become astronomic for me to complete. I try and hide the way I am feeling from those around me, but I think deep down they see my pain... I am suffering so much inside. Im crying out for help, but no one can hear me.

Don't get me wrong, I am not always sad and worrying myself to death. I enjoy many things in life, but life would be amazing if I could overcome this illness I am presently occupying........

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