Over the past week or so, I've gone from one extreme to another. What is wrong?
One minute I'm hanging out, laughing and having a great time, wanting to just keep holding onto the people I'm with (not physically). Anything to keep the quiet from taking over my mind. (The silence can be so loud and deafening sometimes.) As long as I have the distraction of something else, I'm safe. Emotionally safe.
The next minute, I'm begging people to just leave me alone. I want to be alone with my thoughts. I want to sit in a corner and cry or bury my head in the pillow and scream. I want to sit and watch mindless television, alone. In moments like this, I feel safe. I feel better knowing that there's nobody around me that can hurt me or speak ill of my sadness or tell me how disappointed they are in me or how they don't agree with something I've said or done. It’s safe. Emotionally safe.
That was, until yesterday. Well, until last night to be exact. What I thought was going to be a boring, uneventful, lazy evening of just hanging out, turned into something much different. Thoughts of Oh God, just get me out of here didn't enter my mind. I let down one of my four walls and relaxed. I didn't mind the loud noise of other people. I didn't mind the constant overtaking of the animals. I didn't mind the wind in my hair at 100mph. I didn't mind the spaghetti dinner. I didn't mind the tiredness I felt this morning after staying up so late. It was fun, and I can't wait to do it again.