Isolation
Hello!
Thank you so much for all the love on my last post, it really meant a lot. Having posted such an uplifting piece about being happy to be alive last week, I was reticent to post something more negative this week, but life is all about its ups and downs so here we are.
If you were to ask me honestly how I am I think the only description I could offer would be that I feel like a balloon that someone has let go of and forgotten about. I feel like I'm drifting past everyone, very much missing the comfort of someone holding the string and sadly wondering if they miss holding it. I'm feeling really lonely and on top of that, my anxiety has been very difficult lately which is kind of adding to the isolation. I'm living with my parents just now, trying to save money before I head back if you're wondering why I haven't just gone back to Edinburgh. The job hunt (for an Edinburgh position) isn't going all that well, and the three people I see down here very much have lives of their own so myself and my dear brain are spending a lot of time together.
I'm often finding myself lying awake panicking, or doing things I know will only make my anxiety worse. I'll actively read and reread messages to try and work out whether someone close to me is trying to tell me they hate me; I'll obsess over the "last active" feature on Facebook messenger, despite the fact it's highly inaccurate. And isn't it fun to watch the picture-perfect lives plastered all over Instagram and convince yourself it's real? (It's not.) And of course it's a wonderful idea to avoid food and sleep, or over-caffeinate yourself, or "forget" to take your medication in a fog of self-destructive oblivion. And why not convince yourself that no-one will ever love you whilst you're at it?
I'd kind of started this post with the idea of talking about reaching out. See, if a friend of mine had said to me that they were feeling lonely, or I'd noticed them behaving in the ways above, I might send them a few more messages or tell them to reach out when they felt that way. In fact, we often tell people to "reach out" don't we? But once we find ourselves in the position of perhaps needing or wanting to reach out, my God it's not easy is it? I've found myself internally screaming for someone to notice that I'm not coping or to scoop me up in their arms and weather the storm with me. This is probably slightly hindered by me being constantly compelled to tell people I'm fine, or to try and look after them instead, or to shut myself away.
So it's not a case of just "reaching out". Perhaps this is my way of doing it. But we can't all use blogs to scream "Help! I'm drowning!" into the void. I don't really have any advice, I just wanted to let you know that you're not on your own.
This is probably a bad time to add on "But I'm fine! Don't worry!" at the end!
Lots of Love,
Sarah xxx
