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hiding

when i’m scared, or nervous, feeling guilty, feeling like a weirdo, feeling depressed (or manic), feeling ugly, feeling social anxiety, having a panic attack, blah blah blah, i hide. there are lots of different ways to hide. it’s good for a short term escape, but really shitty for dealing with problems and trying to be a part of society.

when i was in high school it was all about new wave and punk. a favorite hair style was having it shaved on the sides and strip of long hair down the middle, sort of like a flat mohawk, or shaved all around except the long bit on top. i, like many of my friends had hair like that. i had  it, and i expect they did, too, to cover my face. i had long fringe/bangs that hung down over my face. if i didn’t put it up in a ponytail, i could barely see. i remember sitting in a history class and getting yelled at for having my face covered like that, because the teacher thought i was asleep!

high school was a tough time for me, my family life was a disaster, i was an alcoholic and undiagnosed bipolar 1. i had a lot to hide from.

when i was a child i built “pillow forts” to hide in, mostly from my angry mother or simply because i needed a safe place.

my anxiety and paranoia are so bad that i often have to hide like that, too. i’ve been known to hide in the closet, or under my desk. i hide the fact that i’m crying sometimes, or that i’m feeling really crazy and don’t want anyone to know. i tend to blurt out how i feel, so it’s important to hide all that. i can hide so well that i can answer the phone in the middle of a sobbing panic attack, as though there was nothing wrong.

sometimes i hate hiding. i’d like the world to know how hard life is for me. it’s a coping mechanism, of course, and i suppose it’s better than having no way to keep yourself safe.

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walking the dog

i slept really well last night! that’s always an important  part of what shapes my moods.

andrew and i always have breakfast together during the week. today it was oatmeal, the old fashioned kind, i cook it in my rice cooker, which has a timer. put it in the cooker the night before have it go off at 8am and is ready when it’s time to eat! i put brown sugar, pecans, walnuts, bananas, and a sprinkling of granola  on mine. soooo good!

it never occurred to me that mackie could get on the table, but now i know better! we forgot to tuck in one of the chairs so i guess he climbed up  and ate the left over oatmeal in the bowl. i caught him right in the act! it looked so funny to have a short little dog on the top of a big dining room table!

i dread having andrew leaving for work because i have to take mackie out, which is no big deal…except…i know people are watching me from all the windows. i can hear them saying things, but couldn’t make out what it is. i can see the curtains in the front windows, being pulled back with spidery hands with a face pressed to the window. i stare at the ground as much as possible. i pull my hair in front of my face and hunch up my shoulders so i feel, at least a little, like i’m not quite as scared.

i know that stuff is probably not true, but that’s how i feel.

my mood is numbness, if that can be a mood. there was a lyric in a song, a U2 song, i think, saying that it was better to feel pain than to feel nothing. i used to think that was case until enough bad things, bad feelings, enough physical pain, enough daily emotional pain, taught me that was bullshit. when Bono wrote those lyrics, he must not have known what it’s like to live with mental illness.