Anxiety is still riding very high. It's sketching me into weird corners and avoidances. Don't like being out of my bedroom. Don't like being away from my bed. Everything is a tangible holding of breath until I can go back to bed. Very sketchy. I am doing something to try not to give into the rampant mini phobias popping up, but, I'm also giving in at times and just retreating to my hole. And sleeping. Today I dropped off my overnight blood ox monitor. I did a bunch of "anti" things that I reckoned would trigger more the worse end of my sleeping spectrum, and it kinda worked. I woke up at 4am groggy and out of it. I dozedly checked my blood ox. 97%. Perhaps it means nothing. Perhaps it means it's not blood oxygen and sleep apnea. I went back to sleep. Anxiety smothering me I went out to drop off the monitor. Outwardly. I just did it. Inwardly, screaming, don't go out, don't go out, I don't want to go out. A sense of dread. A sick feeling. Awful...
One of the recurring themes between Me and The World is the employment of boundaries. Or rather lack of deployment of them. My boundaries are shit. I don't say no to people. Not because I pathologically can't - there are absolutely times I will say no. But because by default I am laid back. Or in more detail. I am mindful of others, helpful, and almost never prioritise my own needs whilst being highly responsive to others. This. Is the childhood trauma as a foundational behavioural seed casting a long and looming shadow over present me half a century later, albeit honed and mixed with the ethics of being against suffering, understanding how hard life can be for people, and "doing my bit" to ease the way of those around me. Most of this stuff is intrinsic in me. I don't feel the lack of prioritising myself. It rarely surfaces as a conscious tension where I resent doing something just to stick to an ethical end point. When my patience hits zero, something resentf...
Sleep. That's all I'm doing. Occasionally I wake up for 30 minutes. Refresh water. Bathroom. And then crash out. The clock just whizzes around. At this point I am basically 16 hours in bed with those small blips "for air". My bullshit rises and falls in a series of peaks and troughs within those 16 hours. Sometimes bad. Sometimes quiet. I am in what I would class as a "semi controlled crash". In that. Overall I don't have much choice about it and am constantly asleep or extremely low energy - the crash. But. I am still coming up for air to get water and go to the bathroom. And there is a bit of a conscious gauging of time. And bathroom break - the semi control. At the worse end of the spectrum I can have "no control". Which is where when I turn over. I have no water. No capability to move. Just. Somewhere down in the hole. And it's. Iffy. It can also become properly damaging in and of itself. Been there. Seen that. Got the scars. I think....
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