Being in Orlando has taught me a strange fact: I draw people to myself.
Writing that means that I must admit it which is hard. Me, a people person? Me, someone who others like? Me, friendly?
Yet, it is true. Whether chatting with a stranger on the bus or the new person at work, I enjoy knowing people’s stories which they, in turn, enjoy telling. When numerous people are asking to hang out, I must admit that something I am doing (or maybe who I am????) is making friends. Strange how I have changed over the years.
Sometimes I just want to be alone and not be found.
The past few days, I have kept pretty quiet in hopes of being left alone. A few friends were contacted, but I mostly just stayed silent at home. Fear of seeing people or them even knowing I was back in the state overwhelmed me.
Was there a certain person or group of people that made me nervous? I am not sure. However, my panic set in whenever I imagined anyone finding me.
Is this PTSD? Isolation from depression? Social anxiety from Aspergers? I am not sure.
What I do know is that there are times when I just must be alone. Maybe I do not even want to be alone but I must. It is a strange feeling and overpowering to say the least.
Tomorrow, I am returning to Florida. Most of me is excited. Yet that fear of being found still lingers. Will it haunt me even in the Sunshine State?
I am learning to live a more normal life despite new challenges. Here I am at the Rose and Crown in Epcot.
Down in Florida, I am doing more on my own than I ever dreamed that I would. Paying for rent, food, and other needs on my own is one challenge. So is working overtime every week, commuting nearly three hours a day, and still maintaining friendships.
Yet, I am managing. Life is very difficult at times, yes, but nothing that I cannot handle.
Or so I thought. Sometimes life feels like wack-a-mole or running after a toddler; the minute that you are finished with one thing, you have to chase after another one.
This sloth is sometimes how I feel when I am down.
Today I started a new one type of therapy. Although I am feeling optimistic, some apprehension has already taken root in me. The therapist stressed the fact that her treatment would help me heal from past trauma. With that vampire bat gone from hanging in the corner of my mind, I would heal from the rest of my mental illness – depression, eating disorder, and anxiety included.
Can that really happen? Does one type of therapy cure mental illness? For that matter, does one medication?
Today held an adventure at Animal Kingdom as well as Mass and Once Upon a Time with my roommates. I am so very tired but happy. Tomorrow will be a very early start which makes me nervous. However, I am thrilled for my first day of training.
Anyway, here is my post with the top ten links. Enjoy!
“I have a friend who has a crush on you,” someone sang to me coyly, chuckling at my wide-eyed expression. The momentary excitement that rushed into my heart was replaced by a crippling anxiety when she named him. Instantly, guilt mixed with that fear. Why should I be so scared of someone who had not hurt me?
Little things creep me out quickly. The way a guy looks at me, accidentally touching my stomach or back, certain comments – all of it makes my mind race, face flush, body sweat, and heart thump as I long to run in the opposite direction. Such is the difficulty of having PTSD.
I recently received a beautiful comment on this blog. An anonymous support person wrote a letter that was much more powerful than anything I could write trying to understand that point of view. Thus, I wanted to share this letter from a family member or friend of a person struggling with mental illness. Hopefully, it will touch you as much as it impacted me.
Plus, if you ever have something that you want to bring to my attention or think that I should share, let me know in a comment. I cannot promise to always blog it. However, know that I am open to hearing your voice and what you would like to see more of on this blog.