The glass walls and civil war of depression, anxiety and CHD

I wrote this when I wasn’t so happy and I just wanted to write it all out.

I watch everyone walk by me, and everyone live around me yet I can’t join in.  There are walls around me, but they don’t prevent me from seeing what’s in front of me, they don’t skew my view on the life I have and what I want; they make it impossible.  I tend to get really into living life ‘well’, and running towards my dreams; whatever they may be that week.  This life I live is clean, there are no smear marks, no fingerprints to let me know that there is a wall ahead of me, until I hit the wall at full force and stumble backwards onto the floor.  “Why can’t I keep going?” Then I see it, a glass box; and I’m stuck in it.  I thought I had left this room behind, I thought that if I lived my life well enough that I would be free from the walls that I continuously work to keep down.

The thing is I work hard to keep down the walls that I can hide behind, the walls that make it “ok” if I forget to eat or if I don’t get out of bed, the walls that make me invisible.  I’ve managed to break down those walls, I’ve managed to manage my life until I hit a glass wall.  Just last week I found myself in one when my doctor told me I might have to have surgery…my life just stopped.  How can you make plans for a future you know nothing about? I saw others around me plan for college, plan for their new career, plan for their family.  The glass room I was inside would only let me plan for a few weeks ahead, not a few months, let alone a few years…where would I be then?

This time the glass room was shattered by reassurance and information that I will be ok, that I will be able to forgo the surgery.  Other times however the glass wall isn’t something that is shattered so easily.  Sometimes glass rooms pop up instead of brick ones; I know that what I’m thinking isn’t normal and I can see where I want to be, and people can see me but I can’t move from where I am.  These glass rooms are scary, because I’m not sure what triggered me, and the bounce back of the gravity is just a little too much for me to handle.  Sometimes the glass room is comfortable because I can just sit and watch life go by. People will stop and ask me “what’s wrong?” or they will even me if they can help me out; but I tell them “I’m ok”.  Instead of building a wall as a defense mechanism against the outside world, I make glass ones that are used as defense mechanisms against myself; my own civil war.

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