My mind is running away from me. Again.
I wish I could express what is going through my head. I wish I could be me. I don’t even remember being me, who I really am. I just seem to be the person trying to pay all of the bills, trying to pull exhausted rabbits out of non-existent hats. Just trying to breathe. My heartbeat seems to be in a constant race with my mind, forcing me to catch my breathe even whilst sitting at my desk.
I’m on day 8 or 9 of no drugs. It feels weird. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I lay awake on Thursday night, listening to the bats and the wind, watching as the night sky became lighter, all because I was so exhausted, that I had convinced myself that I would sleep without the damn drugs. I didn’t sleep. How I got through last Friday, I don’t know. But I did. So I decided to stay on the sleeping pills, not because I feel rested when I wake up, but because I don’t have to deal with my racing thoughts at night. I can tell that I’m off the anti-depressants, and I’m fighting an inner battle. I have to keep reminding myself that one must learn to walk before they can run, but I just can’t seem to get my head to accept that.
This is something that I face in my physical world as well, during a road run. I start off way too quickly, burning my energy reserves and then cursing myself for the rest of my run. I need to learn to taper myself, in both my physical and emotional worlds.
If only there was a pill for that.