I wish I knew why my brain doesn’t work quite as well as I hope it would. I have weeks where I’m not intoxicated a single day (Not Since mom’s diagnosis), but I still find my brain shutting completely off.
I don’t know if it’s the anxiety or the depression, but it numbs my brain like the buzz of paresthesia in my forearm, or neck.
Or those other symptoms of my panxiety
My ability to mentally or physically multitask is at an all-time low. Currently, I have a 150 piece mini-puzzle of VanGoh’s Starry Night, in my lap;
my phone in my hands, typing maniacally; Deadwood is streaming on my tablet; and, my gel-pens and adult coloring page is set to the latter’s left.
Even right there, I had to mentally choose which direction was right or left.
It leaves me wondering: How in the fuck did I get a Master’s Degree? Only 3 years ago. My mind is in shambles.
I’m exhausted and breaking down.
Everything is a struggle and my mind won’t stop it’s continuation of fucking me.
“Karma, I’m ready to square up.”
I wish mom could get some relief.
I wish I could get more than 3 hours of sleep.
I think I should go back to seeing a therapist.
But, even last time… I got my own grip.
I don’t understand my life.
“How did a girl like me
End up in a world so mean.”
K Flay- Black Wave