Anxiety is my keeper. Late night anxiety thoughts.

Tick tick tick tick..

My anxiety hears, “quick quick quick quick..”

A constant reminder that I’m running out of time. How much longer until it envelopes me and buries me deep, hidden from the world for the rest of my time here.

No one can help even of they say they can. How can they ever understand what it pulsing through my brain when I can’t even catch any of the words to even elaborate? I hear short, meaningless words. Quick. Run. Die. Fail. Die. The only thing that gets me is my own anxiety. Am I a prisoner to this? Am I destined to stay locked up in this tower to which anxiety has the only key?

I can’t break free and I can’t scream for help because there’s no one to listen. Even if they did. They don’t hear me.

I’m tired of the constant battle between breaking free, waiting to be saved or giving myself completely to my own warden.

I just want it to be quiet.

But still, I wait.

It’s not over til the fat lady sings, and I haven’t sang yet.

Hi guys! It’s been a while. For those of you that’s emailed me worrying about where I’ve been – I’m so sorry. I genuinely didn’t think I’d be missed not to sound like an emo-deep-drama-puddin’ but it’s the truth. Thank you. For every kind message and thought sent my way. It means more to me than you can ever fathom.

Update? Ohh okay then since you asked nicely! 😉

Things are pretty good now at least. I had a bad few months and I couldn’t shake it off. I’m used to bipolic changes in my moods and the spradic emotional challenges but this time was different for me. Anyway, I’ll explain more on my bipolar in another blog.

I’ve also spent the past few months spending time with my sister who’s home for the summer from university. She’s living with me and Mr Clurr til September and I’m thriving with the company. I’ve been outside yes, I went outside! Spending time on the beach with friends and spending time with the loml. I’m eating better and I’m smoking less.

I guess, I took the time out for some self lovin’.

I can’t wait to erupt my head in this again.

But for now, here’s some images of what I’ve been up to.

C xox

Ps; sorry about my face 🙈

The sun rises in the darkness.

I’m trying a different method in my life. One that’s not new but is new to my train of thoughts. Positive thinking.

Last night I couldn’t sleep. I lay there listening to my anxiety ticking in my ears, mind and eventually through my entire body so I gave into it again and climbed down the stairs defeated once again. I felt absolutely awful because today’s my fiancés birthday and I wanted so badly to be at my best so we could celebrate together. I cried so hard. Possibly because amongst the shelter of the still-dark-and-silent morning, I knew I could release without worrying or disturbing anyone. I’m so sick and tired of my anxiety ruining everything and anything that’s good in my life so at 3am this morning, I tried to turn it around.

I had a shower. One of those long, hot and steamy showers everyone loves but never seems to get because of life and time. I paid attention to the water flowing down my face and washing down to my toes. It’s been so long since I enjoyed a shower.

Afterwards I dug (quietly) the box of party supplies we have in the cupboard-under-the-stairs and decorated our home in banners and balloons for Nick. I’m so thankful that even though my anxiety cripples me and I have agoraphobia to contend with, we still have a thriving social life and LOVE hosting parties so there’s loads to choose from! I can’t wait til he wakes up.

Once I was done, I curled up on the sofa in our conservatory with the dog, cat and my morning coffee (one of many today!) to watch the sunrise. I’m and do glad I did because the sunrise was absolutely astonishing today. I forgot how beautiful the mornings are.

Less than 4 hours ago, I was a broken mess crying into my sleeve in between bursts of panic attacks, now I’m still sitting in my conservatory basking in the sun feeling so refreshed and content. I need to do this more often.

For now, I’m going to await my beloved and play Fortnite.

Today started horrendous and although I’ll be exhausted later, I turned it around. So today, I’m extra thankful for the sunrise, my fur babies, shower and copious amounts of coffee. Today will be a good day.

Here’s a couple of images to help get you through

C 💕

I’ll forever be in debt for these two. I’d be lost without their company, understanding and straight up cuteness in my life. Belle the dog and Yuna the cat.

Is the end finally coming?

My thoughts have never been so stable in a long, long time.

I feel like I’ve spent the last 4 years in a battle for my soul. Who I am, and what I’ve become never did match up. I was born to create. I was designed to be amongst nature and flourishing within helping people and making people smile. I was not put on this planet to watch people live from my window seat, away from the world. Depression so fucking hard to fight and I’m exhausted. I know it will be back but I can fight again. Now, I just need to claim back my soul and let myself shine again.

There’s so much more of me to give.

Please remember, you are enough. You are worthy and you are loved.

♥

Finding yourself: The never ending journey.

I feel like every 3-4 years I have to die so I can come back again. Almost like a reinvention of my former, broken self. Reincarnation of sorts, only this time, I seem to have forgotten how I did it for the past 12 years or so. I’m just lost. Floating around in some sense of reality, watching everyone else appear to live whilst I struggle just to get out of bed and do last night’s dishes. I’ve lost so much of who I am that I can’t remember how to claw back any of it. Maybe this is just who I am now and all I’m really doing is grieving for the person I was.

What do you do for self care? Any tips on how I can pull myself back on track?

Slam funk the funk. The funkiest of funks.

Let’s start of by saying how difficult the title was to write without “funk” being autocorrected to something I obviously say more than “funk”!

But more to the point.

I’m in a funk.

I’m not entirely sure when this started but I know it was before my birthday (6th of April) and I know it’s getting worse as the days pass. The things I usually find difficult to do are now almost impossible or at least, it seems that way.

I can wake up really good. Really like I can literally do anything I need to and everything will be okay, but then in the next second, I’m in tears, panicking through a anxiety attack whilst doing the dishes. It leaves me exhausted so I spend hours trying to recover from the attack and the next thing I know it’s 11pm and time for bed.

..sleeping is difficult.

..eating is difficult.

..getting out of bed is difficult.

..breathing is difficult.

It’s this everyday. If I’m not numb. I’m feeling everything at once and it hurts and it’s heavy.

I never want to be a burden to anyone so I burden myself.

I feel like a cabbage patch doll.

I’m so thankful to you guys – even if you don’t comment or read all of my posts. I’m thankful for finally not feeling alone in this.

It’s time to get funky.

Claire, the fire engine.

I remember being a child, maybe 4 or 5? In the middle of ‘careers day’ at school, learning about careers and life paths in a way our little, naive ways. I remember the teacher asking us

“What do you want to be when you grown up?”

…a popstar

..a footballer

… a Mum

.. a dancer

Me? I wanted to be a fire engine. I did not get this confused with the heroic firefighters. I wanted to be the truck itself.

I remember proudly announcing to my class only to be interrupted with the roaring laughter of my school friends and my teacher. My teacher. A grown adult laughing in the face of a innocent child. I remember the feeling of my tears pricking at my eyes whilst my face glowed with shame. That was the first time in my life I felt different. I felt stupid.

I remember coming home that night and running into my safety shelter which was my Mother’s arms. Sobbing into her arms I told of my embarrassment and that I had said something wrong. She did nothing but hold me.

The next morning, I woke up to my Mother knocking on my bedroom door softly. When she entered my room she presented a cardboard box, brightly painted red. Pipe cleanings painted silver were twisted with precision to form a ladder resting on top of the box. She placed it over my head and helped my pull my arms through the holes she’d cut out of the sides. She sat down and looked at me in the eyes, sensing the confusion in my mind she spoke..

“My darling. You can be whatever you want to be. People are afraid of the things that don’t fit in their “normal” but that’s okay too. You’ll be a fire engine because to me, you already are”

She doesn’t realise how much that conversation changed my life.

Please don’t ever allow our children to feel like I did. We can do and do anything we wish.

I’m 28 and I’m a mother fucking fire engine.

What do you wanna be when you grow up?

Agoraphobia vs Summer

I hate summer.

Summer for someone with agoraphobia is the same feeling you had as a child when you were grounded but all your friends were outside playing and having fun. Yet all you can do is watch from the windows.

I feel like I miss everything. This is my fourth summer locked in my own prison. Today I got to sit in my conservatory with both patio doors wide open so I could get some fresh air, whilst I watched my fiance and our dog play in the garden. I can hear my neighbours children playing on their trampoline whilst the parents set up a BBQ for their friends and family. I can see the cool breeze,blowing through the trees and I remember how amazing that felt.

I instantly feel fueled with rage and bitter resentment.

I would give up everything just to feel the heat on my face and the welcoming coolness of the grass grazing between my toes. I want to have BBQ’s with the people I love and actually be able to enjoy the sunshine with them. I want to run along the beach and kick sand up in the air, plunging my feet into the ocean and embracing life’s natural beauty.

But, I’m here. Locked up with a sweltering heat that I cannot escape. There’s no cool breeze in my sun trap of a living room. There’s no freedom and absolutely no ocean. You can’t have a BBQ in my bathroom which is the only room in my house that has the slightest bit of cool edge to it.

All I can do is continue to do my time here and hope and pray, that next summer things will be different, oh I hope things are different.

I just want to be free.

Depression’s Ugly Face.

I haven’t brushed my hair in 3 weeks and I can’t remember the last time I shaved my legs. (Gross – I know!) Three of my fingers nails show the decaying flecks of red nail polish from my birthday in April and chips that would give Doritos a run for their money. I can’t remember the last time I even opened my make-up box. Sadly, this is a rinse and repeat cycle I’ve been on for 3 years now. Before depression, my hair was always styled and my face was painted to my sense of perfection every single day.

Now, I stand in the shower, with tears streaming down my face as I pull away the matted hair from my head and watch them glide down the body to the bottom of the bathtub.

I’m humiliated. My hair, which was once thick and full of glorious shine and colour, was once the envy of my friends, but now, it’s ruined. I feel like I need to shave it all off but that just peeks at past self loathing, that I can’t afford to go down again.

I have to fight everyday for the smallest things, things that I once took for granted. Showering.. Walking outside, glaring at the sun too much so your vision was filled with white specks of light. Small things are all I praise now. Before, I’d beam at promotions, academic achievements and new cars. Now, I feel like I’ve conquered the whole world when I’ve gotten out of bed and I can somewhat run my fingers through my hair.

I feel like the world is moving forward whilst I’ve gone back to learning how to walk and not poop myself.

I wish I could tell past Claire how great she had it, but..

Today I brushed my hair.

 

Observe (Post Propt Challenge)

Observe.

There’s this lady, let’s called her Jenny.

I often find myself gazing out of my window , perched on the window seat with my morning coffee and my dog. I see Jenny everyday like clockwork and although we’ve never met, I find myself contemplating her life. Where is she going everyday? What’s her story? Why does she take this precise route?

But today was different. She normally paces with a determined stride, rarely glancing anywhere but the next step she’s taking. But today, she slowed down a little and her eyes stopped on mine. With a ball of coffee mixed with anxiety stuck in my throat, I froze and we shared a moment, pouring into each others eyes. I know this sounds like the start of a great (or terrible) romantic novel but this was different. She smiled at me and looked to the blue sky above. I watched as her chest inhaled and exhaled in a simple sigh. I saw in awe her smile turn into a gentle laughter and she took to my eyes once again. After gently nodding in acknowledgment at me she took to pacing the concrete just outside my garden fence again. I can’t pretend I was anything else but confused, still. I continued to people watch and ponder about life.

A few hours later I heard the clunk of my letterbox close so I went to investigate. Poking out of it was a small, white piece of paper. I pulled it out and read what was on it.

“Life is beautiful. Thank you for sharing that moment with me today – Same time tomorrow?”

Small reminders. You may feel alone and invisible, but today I was reminded that I’m not alone. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll find the strength to walk the paths with “Jenny”. Maybe I’ve made a new friend. But today, the girl who can’t escape was noticed and if that’s not a sign of freedom impending, I don’t know what is.

C x