“This first Friday in June, all I know is I am doing my best. My very damnedest. And it looks like this…”

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I felt like this today.

You don’t need to hear about the numbness, excruciating pain, overwhelming anxiety, residual anxiety, paranoia, dizziness  or that I prayed to whomever was listening to just end it. Fucking end the ridiculous, relentless, ad nauseam, non-sensical hours that consume my days. Frankly it’s wearing me down, ripping me to shreds and fucking exhausting fighting invisible monsters.

Yes, I know I’m sick. Yes, I understand tapering off benzos is worse than hell it’s maggot filled shit. Yes, my empathetic, cool therapist talks it out. Reassuring me I am indeed strong enough.

Resilient enough. Tough enough. However. Makes me wonder.

Where in the hell am I going to replenish precious missing elements when the planet is currently fluctuating between earthquakes, tornadoes and drought? In a constant state of chaos, flux. How to replenish when I can’t remember pieces of yesterday. Blurred and hazed memories clog and pollute the brain.

Where? How? Why? Great questions. With zero answers.

I said NO anyway. For shits and giggles, ya’ know.

I don’t feel like shit, I feel eradicated, violated and obliterated.

I go to the hairdresser’s armed with my peppermint and lavender doused washcloth unsure I can make it through the hour-long dye process without flipping the fuck out.

Home. I want, need, have a deep desire to be home.

Grey roots and I have a larger more burning desire to feel pretty, alive, and validated.

Breathe, just breathe. You are safe. You are fine. You’ve been through this before. You are safe, breathe.

Your stylist is your dear friend who knows and loves you well she will take you home if necessary.

FUCK YOU anxiety, fuck off, go fuck up someone else’s day/ existence.

It’s sitting there threatening strangling my neck, throat, cramped shoulders, tingling extremities and limbs. Sitting patient, greedily waiting to pounce.

I apply eyeliner (Armani #02 pencil my fav.) and concealer to brighten my shiteous, difficult existence and in spite.

Tomorrow will come with or without me, isn’t that the cliché? What they say? Whoever the hell they are, Martians maybe. Fuck if I know, can’t be sure.

This first Friday in June, all I know is I am doing my best.

My very damnedest.

And it looks like this… on the outside

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“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” – Harper Lee

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8 thoughts on ““This first Friday in June, all I know is I am doing my best. My very damnedest. And it looks like this…””

  1. Jackie, I do know how you feel. I experience much the same thing. My hairdresser is my friend and she comes to my home sometimes because I just can’t get myself out. When I am out all I can think of is getting home. We do suffer and I don’t have any answers. Having said that I think the coming together of like minds may help. If not us others. Maybe people younger than us who have more time. I don’t know. But try to take comfort you are not alone dear lady.

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  2. I hope that you’re feeling a bit better now, Jackie. Anxiety–I know it well and have spent many days indoors because I couldn’t bear to go out. Sometimes, though, going out does help. Not always, of course, but sometimes. I will keep you in my thoughts, and, as Louise said above, you are not alone.

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    1. Thank you, dear Mary. It’s both comforting and sad to know others struggle with Anxiety on an intimate level. Thank you for sharing and caring. It’s a beast. Some days are winners, some well you know. I walk everyday (my pup demands it) and you’re right it helps. Be very very well. Love and light.

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  3. My God, I relate to this…I’m doing my best/my damnedest too… “and it looks like this on the outside” << Yes! That! Exactly that!

    I needed to read this today, because, well, you know!

    Thank you for sharing, it helps to read 'honest others'. – It doesn't help much to hear it, I know, when we're in the midst of 'shiteous', but I understand, I get this, and I hope you feel better soon…even if (as is often the case) only temporarily. It's the temporary improvements that keep us muddling through I think.

    Take care, Kimmie x

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    1. …for getting it. I would say I’m sorry, but that rarely helps. I will say I’m glad this helped even for a split second. To know there are others out there who understand, empathize helps a lot. Do feel a whole lot better. 🌞
      This sentence, your words is everything, “It’s the temporary improvements that keep us muddling through I think.”
      Onward.
      Xx Jackie

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