I am very close. One step closer and all will come tumbling down. A subtle puff of wind and it will topple. The tunnel vision...the black stars...the muffled sounds...all signs of imminent imploding.
Several years back, I watched a TV show with the most brilliant concept. A young girl, who recently had gone through something traumatic, was relieving stress in a room built for destruction. She stood behind a counter with a stack of cheap, glass plates. You know, the ones that you can buy for a dollar to be every day use. And she threw them. She threw them against the wall and let it go. She was able to destroy before it destroyed her.
Stress rears its ugly head in many forms and different ways in different people. In me? It presents itself as lack of patience, immediate need for seclusion, sudden leakage of eyes (some call this crying), overwhelming desire to tear out of my skin, and the paralyzing need to break...everything. I tend to get short with those that are close to me, and when words come out of their mouth, I want to take them and shove them back in, and not delicately.
This is the inside me. The part that no one sees. The part that, if let out, would cause lasting effects I could never reverse. This is the part I keep hidden so I don't get into trouble. So what do people see?
Perhaps someone that does have it all together. One thing for certain...I despise the sense of obligation. I rarely asked for help in something because I don't want others to feel that black cloud of obligation. So...I come across as calm-ish, cool, and almost always collected.
I need a break room. Today, a dear friend suggested that I stab a piece of paper. The poor paper looked like it was an extra on a horror film. But I felt a bit better. I was able to take out a small modicum of aggression on the paper alleviating a fraction of the stress that was building like a pressure cooker.
Now, I don't want people to read this and feel obligated to ask how I am. I. Am. Okay. I. Will. Be. Okay. If you ask...I will tell you such. If you don't ask, and I offer a tale of stress and emotion, take it for what it is.
Prayers. Prayers are good. I can always use those. I never tire of them. Maybe some suggestions on a personal "break room." Ha! Anything at this point is probably better than what I am doing...
Several years back, I watched a TV show with the most brilliant concept. A young girl, who recently had gone through something traumatic, was relieving stress in a room built for destruction. She stood behind a counter with a stack of cheap, glass plates. You know, the ones that you can buy for a dollar to be every day use. And she threw them. She threw them against the wall and let it go. She was able to destroy before it destroyed her.
Stress rears its ugly head in many forms and different ways in different people. In me? It presents itself as lack of patience, immediate need for seclusion, sudden leakage of eyes (some call this crying), overwhelming desire to tear out of my skin, and the paralyzing need to break...everything. I tend to get short with those that are close to me, and when words come out of their mouth, I want to take them and shove them back in, and not delicately.
This is the inside me. The part that no one sees. The part that, if let out, would cause lasting effects I could never reverse. This is the part I keep hidden so I don't get into trouble. So what do people see?
Perhaps someone that does have it all together. One thing for certain...I despise the sense of obligation. I rarely asked for help in something because I don't want others to feel that black cloud of obligation. So...I come across as calm-ish, cool, and almost always collected.
I need a break room. Today, a dear friend suggested that I stab a piece of paper. The poor paper looked like it was an extra on a horror film. But I felt a bit better. I was able to take out a small modicum of aggression on the paper alleviating a fraction of the stress that was building like a pressure cooker.
Now, I don't want people to read this and feel obligated to ask how I am. I. Am. Okay. I. Will. Be. Okay. If you ask...I will tell you such. If you don't ask, and I offer a tale of stress and emotion, take it for what it is.
Prayers. Prayers are good. I can always use those. I never tire of them. Maybe some suggestions on a personal "break room." Ha! Anything at this point is probably better than what I am doing...
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