I keep thinking that I can’t handle this whole thing – then I remember that all I have to do is handle the next five minutes. And so my life proceeds, five strange minutes, by five strange minutes. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, but things are getting done – the kitchen got cleaned yesterday, some work in the yard happened this morning, despite me being an anxious wreck all day, and a hair cut got managed this afternoon, quite successfully really (I may not be able to cope with anything, but I’m learning to trust that others can.)

I think where I’m struggling is that I used to be in control a lot more of the time, and yes, that meant being shut down and stuck, but it was also safe somehow. I knew where I was. Now I feel like I don’t know anything, like I don’t even know who I am. I’m struggling to accept that there are “others” in my life who have their own histories and agendas, and to grant them the acceptance and freedom that they need.

Because on the one hand being unstuck is lovely – I mean, art happened, and I hope it happens again. And the house is starting to look cleaner. On the other hand the “I hate myself and want to die” and the “I am evil” voices are louder and interrupting me more frequently. Add to that the nightmares that I can’t even write down, and the problems I’m having with eating, and I’m just not sure whether I’m doing really well or really badly.

For now, I get drunk, which is, obviously, the answer to everything. LOL

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