Well this was an interesting re-read (as @ august 2018) … and kinda pertinent right at this moment … cos today is a fucker!
As I read and type and re-type, our house is vibrating to fuckery as a large digger is in our front yard, digging up the road to install a footpath. We were warned about it yesterday.
I don’t like diggers. I don’t like surprises. I don’t like my house shaking. I don’t like feeling trapped inside my house whilst my surroundings shake!!
So its been a tense fucking morning and theres been a couple panic attacks, hyperventilation and a shittonne of tears!! I rang my mama to get her to help me calm down .. and she did xo
And now I’m sitting on my bed, reading and writing and looking straight out my window at the road works fuckers lol … I think Me staring at them is making them a little uncomfortable and them seem to have sped up their digging lol.
Anywho … my point is … anxiety is a cunt!
I have a huge aversion to being put into a position a feel I have no control over. I’m working on figuring out what happens when I can feel it happening. But most of the time it’s here before I get whats happening. It’s anxiety and it’s not. It’s an overwhelming revoltion; a searing seething anger and a pounding headache…usually followed by a flood of tears…then more anger…so on and so forth.
It can be anything that I feel has taken away or seeks to take away my freedom…or freedom of choice. Or something like that. Anything or body that has the intent to manipulate for their own gain; my loss. Loss of anything…but mainly my will, free will.
Favours…I don’t like those. Technically speaking, I’m then indebted to someone or something. Just a straight forward transaction is fine. But a lingering…not so sure…possibly may come and collected on said favour anytime they please…not straight forward transaction…well the bites. Hard. I can’t do it.
I start feeling tight and suffocated.
Anything that starts to back me into a corner…I don’t like it.
Anything that makes me feel like I can’t get out…I don’t like it.
It doesn’t have to be actions…it can be words…or intent. Usually intent. Most people hide their true intentions. I think that’s why I like Autistic, Asperger’s, general mentally supposedly disabled peeps…and children…they don’t hide their intentions….they’re not able too. They are what they are. Beautiful and transparent…completely. Others, who have the capacity for bullshit…utilize it to their advantage…all the time. Their intentions are never quite what they seem. And I don’t like it.
I get that its PTSD and all that shit. I just don’t like it…being trapped.
I had my tubes tied just after I’d given birth to my second daughter. This was partially due to the preceding issue I have with not having a choice. The thing with pregnancy and child rearing is…if the other half decides to re-neg on the agreement, the load gets left with the child bearer. And I get that’s there’s always the exception to the god dam rule…but I didn’t want to be that woman with 50 kids, by herself…because the impregnator decided they…had other stuff to do…someone else came along…they had to help the guy down the road…and get left holding the baby so to speak.
I made a decision based on what I thought was the likelihood of a marriage failing; the history that I had lived and the possible future I was in for. For the now…not 50 kids later. I based that decision of what I knew at the time.
The choice gave me freedom…sort of.
I aborted, so I wouldn’t be trapped. I gave my kids up, so I wouldn’t be trapped. And for all the other prissy reasons…
I can’t be trapped.
When I feel trapped, I feel like what a caged animal looks like.
Pacing. I’ll rip your throat out if I can get out from behind these bars…kind of look.
The psychologist says it’s just a thought, a state of mind…that I need to realize it isn’t real anymore. I’m not trapped anymore.
Easy for her to say…shes not feeling trapped.
I get it though.
I just don’t like being or feeling fucking trapped.
kpm © : ig @kpm-artist