Day 415: Resistance

Resistance.
Like I am pulling on a giant rubber band
extending my feet forward
reaching as far as I can push.
But it is still there,
the pull back.




My entire life has been a game of resistance. What I've been resisting seems to constantly change, but there is always something there that I am pushing away from while it's pulling me back in. Maybe some people need something to push against always… but it is exhausting. I am in a constant state of tension. My skin is always tight from fake smiles. My heart is always heavy from constantly pretending everything is fine. My brain is constantly beating itself against every hard object it comes across.

I put you off.
I push you away.
From my mind and my body.
I don't want you in here.
I don't want to face the music.
I don't want to sing the chords
in front of anyone else.
I am pushing everything away
afraid of how strong the pull will become
if I give in.

There are days where giving in is a state of tension and days where putting up a fight is a release. That may make little sense, but then I can barely even explain it to myself. I find that each moment of every day is hard and easy. Somewhere in between, that middle ground doesn't exist for people like me. People like me. I am different. Abnormal. Strange. Weird. My brain doesn't work right. The sunshine makes me uncomfortable and the rain causes me pain. Why can't I find that stable platform? Why can't I just be calm?

Darkness is here
All around me
It never leaves my side
Like an obsessive lover
I can't shake you
You've always been here
The shame, the guilt,
The fear.
You never leave my side.
You never leave my life.
My dreams are filled with
pieces of you and pieces of me.
I am giving up.
I am giving in?
I want to quit.
I don't want to be like this
anymore.

The dramatics of my differences, that of me and other people, is irritating. I irritate myself with my behavior. My brain reconfigures the matrix of feelings from the way I should feel. I hold on so much longer and beat myself up that much harder. Most people have up and down days, I have up and down hours. I have up and down minutes. One minute I'm on top of the world - up, and the next it's kill myself - down. I used to just tell myself that that's how things are. Some people just "experience" life more and I'd rather have those high high good moments rather than be even keel. But after 20 years of these ups and downs, you wake up one day and you feel like you've been through a war and you're exhausted. I'm just so tired.

I am driving,
but I can't see the road.
That song is playing
and I can't hear the music.
Blinded from the stop lights.
I can't feel anything,
except hurt.
I can't focus.
I'm so tired.
I can't keep doing battle like this.
I am reliving these moments over and over again.
I give in.
I make the call.
Help,
I say.
They say, Here,
they say, try this.
Take this little pill.
Technical names and terms I can't remember.
I am foggy,
when she asks me what my normal routine is like.
I say,
I just want to be normal again.
It's been so long.
It's been so damn long.

I am coming out about my pain. I am being honest about the problems I've faced for the last 20 years. I have been struggling with severe anxiety disorder and moderate (to severe at times) depression. It's something I've learned to hide behind a big smile and self-depricating jokes. But this is real, I have disorders. I have a therapist who tries to help me reorganize my thinking. I have a service animal who helps me in more ways than I can count. And now I am one of those people, taking medication to try to set me back on track. I realize that outing myself like this will cause some people to look at me differently, but hopefully you'll see through the stigma and realize that being open and honest about who I am is helping me get better. There is this Ani Difranco song that I've always been drawn to and in it she sings, "I just sing what I wish I could say and hope somewhere some woman hears my music and it helps her through her day" ('I'm No Heroine'). I am coming out about this so maybe someone else will hear my story and realize they don't have to wait 20 years to make a change and get real help. Sometimes being stronger than what you're battling is asking for help. And I am Not embarrassed to confess that this is who I am.

The anxiousness,
the fear of decisions made or unmade,
the debacle of what's next?
where do I go from here?
the hundreds of voices questioning every move I make
…
silenced.

Finally I feel whole.
A weight lifted
off my brain.
Like the me
I want to be.
The me
I've always wanted to be.
Silence
when I close my eyes.
Silence.
Quiet is my brain,
and I can breathe.
I am no longer
trying to get oxygen
from
under
the
water's
surface.
Drowning
is the past.

I find it hard to tell normal people who I really am. Because now I feel like I am one of them. I finally feel like I belong. I am part of something, anything. I am not an outlier. My brain, unburdened from those routines of self-abuse, is free to be calm and happy. Simple things, like picking out and enjoying a good cup of coffee, are just that, simple. I don't stress anymore about every single thing and obsess about it over and over again, winding the string tighter and tighter around my throat. I can breathe. And I know that this is not a cure-all, because I still have to work constantly to re-route new pathways in my brain. Every day I have to put my best foot forward and make a conscious effort to be the stronger, better person I know I can be. Because this won't be forever. This cutting of white little bricks into halves. Eventually my brain and body will learn to just be normal. Eventually I will be at my best and stronger on my own two feet. But for now, it's nice to have the crutch to help me walk on these broken legs.

Break.
Breaking.
Broken.
That was me.
I am not like other people.
My brain doesn't work the same way.
Can you understand that?
Can you comprehend?
My brain is DIFFERENT than yours.
For years, in an endless cycle.
Downwards and onwards.
I was in pain,
my body
and
my mind.
ALL
of the
TIME.
Now
I am different
I am changing.
The light is getting brighter.
The sun warms my skin.
I am braver,
and
I am ready.

Whatever is next, I welcome new versions of me. And I am happy being honest about who I am. I will end this extremely difficult and emotional post with one of my favorite song lyrics by one of the greatest singer/songwriters I've ever heard; Dar Williams, 'As Cool As I Am'

"And then I go outside to join the others, I am the others,
oh and that's not easy,
I don't know what you saw, I want somebody who sees me."