Sometimes bad dreams wake you and they're not even nightmares, they're just the truth.
Lately I've been questioning the state of my mental health, but I'm honestly sure that I'm not crazy, it's just that real life grown up worries and weird thyroid issues are mixing and matching to make me feel like I'm slowly going crazy.
I'm good, honestly. But sometimes I find myself vividly picturing death (rope, which I find strange since I hate the feeling of anything around my throat), and sometimes I make plans of not now, if you bump up life insurance now and wait two years, at least there will be a benefit to it, and sometimes I think that's the best and most useful thing I could offer the people in my life. A big life insurance payout.
The thing is, most problems will go away if you throw enough money at them. The problem is, who has that kind of money? So even though I earn enough to rob me of the right to complain, I can still feel the anxiety build when I think of the future.
I earn 6 figures (just barely, but I do) and I feel like a failure because I still can't solve everyone's problems. Mostly my parents'. Partially my brother's. I wish I could be a more generous wife, not that BBB's ever complained. And you might say that other people's problems are not my problems, but they ARE. They're my family. My problem.
Segue: so we've been watching Supernatural lately, and I love it fiercely. And part of that is because it's a genuinely well written show, regardless of what the haters say, and part of that is because I totally crush on Dean and his snark and his smile, but a lot of it is (please bear with my self-indulgence here) that I can totally identify with the responsibility Dean feels. He's the eldest. It's HIS job to make things better. It just is. It's not about logic or reason or even fairness. It just IS.
Anyway, I'm not even done with season 3 yet so no spoilers, please, even 10 years after the fact.
My point is - sometimes I feel less than stable. But I know it's from real life issues (that I don't know how to fix) and unrelated medical issues (that I'm trying to have fixed. I am not so good at that. My brain doesn't like to compute that there's anything wrong. When it started years ago, I went around with a pulse of 130 for months, feeling like I was going to pass out if I tried to do strenuous things like brush my hair, crying in deserted corners of my office because I felt so useless. And it never once occurred to me that I could be sick. Someone else made me see a doctor. Doctor gave me drugs. Drugs made me feel better. I was surprised.)
Most days though? I feel great. And happy. And productive and loved and well, and my friends are awesome and my next door neighbour is totally into fandom. And I have a wonderful husband and loving parents and brother, and I'm awesome at baking chocolate cake and my mawashis could probably put a person down.
It's just a battle between all that and this insidious, creeping feeling of anxiety and powerlessness.
But hey, now it's light outside and the stomach-deep dread of the team has faded and today is a brand new day with no mistakes in it.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.