today has been weird. On one hand, I’ve spent it all drifting around in a daze or hyperfocusing on stuff so much that I don’t notice it’s making my pain worse until it’s screaming

On the other hand, there are scattered breaks in the usually thick cloud cover that blunts and numbs a lot of emotions because it’s too much to sort through rn, and I’m so horrified and enraged and full of dread and snarling and I don’t know how to channel that

So I don’t. It builds as tension in my body, the pain gets worse, I can no longer do anything but lie perfectly still for an hour, rinse, repeat. I can’t express my anger physically or vocally. My family is home all the time.

So I can’t hurl shit that won’t break/is junk across my room, I can’t shout, I can’t howl, I can’t sob, I can’t let the dam burst and have the cathartic meltdown that’s been building up and I have no idea if or when I’ll ever be able to

I’ve never been one to yell or throw shit. I’m terrified of even hints of that from other people so I don’t do it around others because I know how terrifying it can be. And when I’m alone I still can’t do some of it, I’m so used to repressing

But at the least, I need a good crying session. But it doesn’t help if I’m trying to be quiet. It just hurts more. I need to be alone. I need to be able to sob and walk and be gross and let it pass. I have nowhere for that.

And pain stops me from using my usual forms of expression. Occasional threads like this are one of the few i have, and I pay for t with my wrists. I pay dearly. The hands are useless after this

And all the other avenues, a mix of physical limitations and constant mental bandwidth overload from managing pain and regulating emotions that need to run wild once in a while but are trapped in me like I’m trapped in this house blocks me

I can’t fight my inner critic and wrangle my executive function into cooperating to make art when 80% of my fucking brainpower is taken up by carefully managing this deteriorating, crunchy meat suit.

I can’t hold a pen for more than a minute most days. Any form of expression comes at a price. And it’s so hard to guess what my body’s limits are day to day. How much can I use my hands?

So tonight, I’m wrecking them typing this passive communication there for anyone to engage with or walk by. I’m yelling on the sidewalk.

The angers the worst. I’m so scared of hurting others the way little, overwhelming, swarming sea of little things build up and hurt me

I know what it’s like to panic because someone closed a cabinet too hard. I notice when someone puts a spatula down in an angry way. I can’t express anger because the fear I’ll put someone else into that mental hell by accident is overwhelming

I know that’s not healthy but. Empathy, putting myself in someone else’s shoes, and hypervigilence are inextricably tangled in me

Something to work on in therapy.

But tonight, I’m angry, I cant do anything with it, and its just building the tension and pain. I’ll get through it. I’m very practiced at coping and waiting for this shit to pass. But it’s draining. It devours all energy, all time in my day.

I can self regulate or i can do things beyond bare bones necessities in my day, but lately, I can’t do both.