What Are You Doing?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’ve been really lucky about the type of support I’m getting from mostly everyone around me. 

Then there’s people who don’t. 

And honestly, that’s totally fine that not everyone knows what a panic attack feels like or the crushing pressure that anxious people put on themselves consciously or subconsciously or how hard it is just to do basic tasks. 

The sad part is, I’m not always in a position to educate them. Maybe when I’m in a better place I can but right now when I get asked “But what do you do all day?!?” When I let them know I’m on disability. 

That question has been really bugging me since it came from a trigger source — my brothers’ mother — this past weekend. I was all ready to see them and face any lingering fears I had head on and… curveball


Not surprising, this is life. 

I rattled off something vague like how I’m getting better but I only have my “safe” places that I go to and I’m cleaning a lot or I stay in my little town. 

Here’s what I wish I had said: I do a lot of inner work. I meditate, pray, journal, knit a lot. I take frequent breaks because a cleaning project feels too much for me or I have to spend time actively learning to change how and what I say to myself. Some days I stay in bed just sleeping because I exhausted myself with people the day before. Sometimes I stay in bed all day because I feel paralyzed by fear that I’m fucking it all up. But then there are really great days where I feel like myself again and I am kicking all sorts of ass on the chores or outings list. What am I doing all day? I’m actively getting better come hell or high water. 

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