0. The Drop

I had a complete breakdown yesterday.

It lasted nearly 6 hours.

Exhausted at the end, I called someone and realized what I'd just been through. I have not bottled something up like that for a very long time. Well over a year. Not since I lived at home alone.

I used to do it often, or more often then I thought, which makes me think I should have seen it coming. In a  way I did. I needed a cry, a book and some tea. I didn't realize how extensive the cry was though.

I held everything back when my mother came. I didn't want her to see me distressed about the last stretch, because I had so much to be happy for. I held everything back when I visited my sister, because I didn't want her to see me distressed about the last stretch, because I have so much o be happy for. I didn't cry some days, because the urge to do so came right before I started work, or I just wanted to go to bed, or I had such a short time with the one person I could, that I wanted it to b happy for both. But I held everything back.

I can see how I did it too. I've been walling myself off from everyone, scared to see and speak to people, venture beyond a certain point in the town. I've been injecting my brain with lectures and pod casts, new music and junk television in an effort to improve my mood, or to keep off a bad one. If I'm not thinking about it, it can't happen.

The signs were there too. Isolation, lack of focus on anything productive and the inability to write. That's always a bad sign. It comes out sporadically, and unfocused. I can't seem to fix on an idea or plot at all. If my writing doesn't work then I'm lost. I couldn't even draw, Which is usually my back up outlet.

But I knew it had to, and with time to myself and away from everyone, my mind slowly unraveled and the weight of everything poured down on me.

The first thing I should have done was speak to someone. Anyone, but my fear of judgement comes up when I'm feeling my lowest, so I didn't want to speak to anyone for risk of further "Attack" when they probably would have helped me. I went through anger, terror and it was all directed at myself. I was ruining everything with my "stupid emotions", who only wanted to speak to someone. I hated me and felt ugly, scrawny and stupid.

It was an utter deterioration of myself.

It was a long time coming, in someways. I needed to pass through it, though I certainly wish it had been so much less savage. I was a cornered dog, biting and snapping with out thought, until I'd bitten my self enough to realize this was fruitless.

Settling, I called someone and they walked me through how exciting everything was about to be, and that they understood this was coming, and that I had every right to feel some of these feelings. I went through the list of things to be excited about.

I am still frustrated at the timing of it, and for the fact that I let it kind of fall out of me. But I think those things can be resolved with speaking and in two weeks, perhaps even resolved.

This morning I've rebuilt. While it is as cold as balls in this place, I'm going to sit down stairs. I'm going to ease myself into socializing and I'm going to write some novel.