Not really sure why I chose that as the title… I really like the name Annabelle, it’s also possibly because I think if I were someone else I wouldn’t feel how I feel most of the time. I’m not trying to complain but I hate being stuck in my own head sometimes, well actually most of the time. I spend a considerable amount of time trying to talk myself out of thinking so much which is really just more thinking. The amount of pointless and paranoid thoughts I have number a quantity beyond what can be measured by humans. I don’t know when it started but I’ve always been so unbearably aware of the consuming chaos that resides in my brain. It makes it hard to make decisions. It makes it hard to have friends. It makes it hard for me to feel like I ever do anything “right”. It also makes me supremely aware that there is no “right”, or “wrong” just a million different variables I obsess over which lead me to the place I am.
I am overwhelmed by my inner dialogue, the hundreds of thousands of what ifs whirl around each other and because I lack confidence I do nothing. At least this place (home) I can control. I can let people in, I can make people get out. But if I go somewhere there’s outside things I can’t control. Especially since I can’t even control what’s going on in my head it feels like it’s too much. It seems to me that every time I go anywhere everyone knows I have no freaking clue what the hell I am doing out in the “real world” so I try to avoid it unless I have someone to handle the things that I can’t or don’t want to. I feel like a giant fake and a fraud. Is the world is full of cyborgs who don’t have to deal with my obsessive thoughts and know exactly what to say to push me over the edge and straight back to the sacred comfort of my house?
YES! According to my brain.
I wish there was a way I could shut it off but there isn’t. I have tried unsuccessfully to experiment with ways to discover my shut off valve but I have only gotten myself in trouble and failed miserably. If I were named Annabelle I could be tougher, maybe I’d have a cool accent and my eyesight wouldn’t be so horrible. Annabelle would never “shermit” (my husband’s name for my hiding from reality). Annabelle would have done all the things I did “wrong”, “right”.
I am conscious that these feelings are not unique to me. Lots and lots of people cope with anxiety and a large volume of thoughts. It really is better than it has been in years. With age comes wisdom… I guess today I’m just regressing and can’t get a handle on what’s bugging me. So now I’m wishing I’m someone who never had to deal with it. We’ll see how it goes I guess.