Saturday, June 1, 2019

me: i never want to share my feelings with anyone again. also me:

I have been thinking about this blog for a couple of weeks. I have sort of been wanting to go back to posting stuff as normal. Ideas flit through my head - funny stories from my teens, stuff about relationships, family, work, cats. But writing any of that would be disingenuous, because my head simply refuses to go into a space where I can share something lighthearted. I wouldn't want to force a funny story out just for the sake of it. It would probably make me feel worse about myself.

I had a full blown panic attack a couple of days ago. This was the first major one since last November. My body seized up and I felt like I was going to die. Images of every hurtful event in my life kept flashing in my head, my ears were ringing and my breathing was labored. It felt like every bad thing that could possibly happen, would.


Thankfully my mum and grandmum were there to calm me down and talk me through it (I feel bad because no one should be subjected to my howl-like crying). Once I was stable, I sent a few sniffly voice notes to my close friend just to let some of the tension out... and then the day went on as normal. (please note: normal isn't good, it's just the state I've resigned myself to exist in).

As the three month mark to my grandfather's death approaches, the pain hasn't decreased one bit. There hasn't been a single night when I haven't sat/lain in bed and sobbed over his death and the events that led to it. My pillow has become oddly misshapen by how I press my face into it trying not to make any noise crying. This is the state of my entire household: when there is complete silence in the middle of the night, I can sometimes hear soft weeping or the blowing of a nose through the doors and walls. These are welcome sounds to me - the shared grief is probably the strongest connection my family has ever had.

The feeling of Eid approaching is making me sick. I know that everyone around me will be celebrating as normal (as they obviously and deservedly should, no shade at all)... but I know I will not be strong enough to face the influx of wishes and greetings and the inevitable horde of ignorant people thinking it's okay to invade a house of mourning and demand to be entertained. I just want to be left alone.

Speaking of being left alone... at times that's the only thing that helps. Having time in isolation heals me as much as it destroys me. Continuous interaction with anyone outside of necessity makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I'd rather live a life of silence than ever have to 'open up' to anyone again. Gross.

Oh also:


I got another cat. So it's not all gone to shit.