|« Sometimes there's only one thing||Oooh! Shiny! (or, What did you do today?) »|
Potential trigger warning:
If you are suffering from depression or anxiety, or feeling emotionally fragile, please consider not reading this post.
Tonight, I entertained The Thought. I flirted with The Idea.
It danced around my brain, revelling in the freedom that came from my momentary lack of resistance.
It slid down into my mouth, and rolled off my tongue.
I think it scared him. He wanted to know why. Why would I ask? Why would I even want to think about it?
My eyes would not meet his. He tried to make them, to force me to face him.
I had no answer. No reply. No reason.
And then: “I’m no good for anything else”.
Like the world would be better off without me.
Without my faulty brain.
Without the stupid thoughts that make me take too long to do normal things that normal people do easily, take for granted.
Without the anxious, never-ending handwashing that frustrates and upsets my family.
Without the panic attacks that make my children roll their eyes and sigh loudly.
Without the agoraphobia that hinders social interaction and forces somebody else to do the shopping.
Without my influence, my example, my tears, my fears.
His reaction brought me back.
I reminded myself that my brain does not “do” that kind of thought, no matter how worthless I feel. My fear of what would happen next always overrides any fantasies of relief and release.
Thinking about what people would say about me, how they would look at my husband and children.
How my children would remember me.
No, I don’t “do” that thought. I apologise, I put myself down, I wallow; but I do not seriously consider “that”.
But tonight, for a moment, I did. I flipped The Thought over in my mind, examined it, spat it out into existence.
I’m not OK yet.