I've been tremendously self-conscious about the nature of my disease (Bipolar), especially when it pertains to my professional life. I quit teaching about a year and a half before I was formally diagnosed. My symptoms were at their worst after my near-fatal concussion, but apparently I was suffering nonetheless (although at the time it was thought I had PTSD...post-traumatic stress disorder). I've since felt that I cannot commit to much without feeling stifled, and subsequently panicked, and when I inevitably feel overwhelmed, I shut down and can't manage to even phone my boss without B's (the husband extraordinaire) help. I feel weak, and I ultimately hate myself, although you wouldn't necessarily notice it if you met me on the street.
I guess this topic arises AGAIN, because I've begun tutoring a friend's children in their English/Language Arts classes. I've grown to enjoy it, but have been encouraged to take on more students, and have applied to work with a tutor-matching service. Ultimately, I could use more money (who couldn't?), but of course that evil voice deep within me says that they'll see right away that I'm a freak. And so what? I know that in the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter! But still, I obsess.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Fear of Death
The worst thing in the world is to suddenly become aware of your own mortality.
This thought came to me today as I was driving home from the barn. I'd engaged in a discussion about my catastrophic head injury from '04 with J and C. A fall from a horse nearly killed me, and that realization sent me into a grave depression, a place darker than dark, that I thought would never end.
From the fall I emerged a fearful person. I'd changed dramatically from the risktaking ne'er do well I was in my youth. Suddenly the world seemed far too large, and I this tiny, suffocating speck just waiting to be squashed. And I've spent the last 3 years trying to regain my confidence...not only in myself, but in the world around me.
I find it interesting that my view has taken a negative spin. I survived. I was NOT killed, but now I'm more afraid of life than ever before. I've become ever more conservative with my activities. I still ride horses, but prefer the walls of an arena to the unknowns of the trail. And I hate that fact. I wish I could become the Dawn of years gone by. I wish I could ease those fears and move forward. I wish I could become myself again.
This thought came to me today as I was driving home from the barn. I'd engaged in a discussion about my catastrophic head injury from '04 with J and C. A fall from a horse nearly killed me, and that realization sent me into a grave depression, a place darker than dark, that I thought would never end.
From the fall I emerged a fearful person. I'd changed dramatically from the risktaking ne'er do well I was in my youth. Suddenly the world seemed far too large, and I this tiny, suffocating speck just waiting to be squashed. And I've spent the last 3 years trying to regain my confidence...not only in myself, but in the world around me.
I find it interesting that my view has taken a negative spin. I survived. I was NOT killed, but now I'm more afraid of life than ever before. I've become ever more conservative with my activities. I still ride horses, but prefer the walls of an arena to the unknowns of the trail. And I hate that fact. I wish I could become the Dawn of years gone by. I wish I could ease those fears and move forward. I wish I could become myself again.
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