The fear in my head

The fear in my head can tell me all sorts of stories, many of these stories are not the present truth. Though once in a blue moon, the fear warns me a of  a true danger. Unfortunately, these rare moments of true danger live forever in my head, and they return with a vengeance with the slightest sliver of a reminder.

And when that fear starts raining down on me it’s hard to get out of that spiral. I start to make doomsday predictions: I will lose everything. I will be homeless. Everything good is going to disappear. I won’t be able to feed myself. And then it further disintegrates into thoughts of disappearing because my head can’t conceive of going through the danger and the pain again.

Deep down inside me there is a belief that good things are not for me. When I get those slivers of fear I let them into my head because goodness feels fleeting to me. Anything positive feels transient, and borrowed, but with a quick return date like a new release at the library. The bad news and awful things feel familiar and known.

When people tell me they miss me, I’m stunned. Authentic happiness from people upon seeing me still confuses me. It’s not the self-perception of myself that I want, but it’s the one I have at the moment. Believe it or not, this is an improvement from just two years ago. Back then, and for as long as I can remember in my life, I would live with suicidal ideation most days. I would wake up in the morning and my first thought was that I shouldn’t be on this earth, and I would work against that desire sometimes on an hourly basis, depending on the day. Thankfully, my dark self possesses a sliver of hope within that propelled me to fight this desire my entire life.

And it’s that sliver of hope that I hold on to in moments like this when the fear has overtaken me, and I feel like the universe is raining on me. I try to keep perspective. I check my perceptions with friends. Sometimes I have to repeatedly check because I have a hard time believing I’m really okay. It’s hard for me to hold the belief that if I do lose everything in my life, in a worst case scenario, I am still worthy as a human being, still someone that people will want to know.

A strange blessing in alarming news …

In the throes of suicidal ideation I received a phone call from my bank’s risk management unit. Apparently, my debit card number was stolen, and suspicious charges were made in another part of the country that I have never set foot in my entire life. The charges were flagged as suspicious, and when I confirmed that they were not my charges they shut down my account. Sooo … I have to wait until tomorrow to get access to my account again.

In the mean time, I will be going to the grocery store with a credit card. It feels weird to charge groceries. But, I am thankful that it was caught in time, and that my funds are now safe.

I don’t know if it’s in bad taste to point this out, but the whole whoo-ha around this thing sprung me back to life. It’s kind of like came back to life. When I get that feeling of wanting to die it often feels like it’s not me, especially with the cacophony of voices in my head that tries to compel me to do awful things to myself.

It is so freaking weird how I feel like myself again. Geesh! Is it a blessing my debit card number was compromised?

I have a splitting headache, the kind that I recognize that’s associated with switches. Time to make a green smoothie.