It is overwhelming. Your ribs are pressed apart and the chest inflates with void in continuous suffocation. The rational remains of your mind are grateful for not having a gun or you might have blown your head. There are no joys whatsoever and all you seek for is shelter in someone’s heart, capable of not feeding your hatred for the stupidity of people. Pain makes you terribly intolerant. Wherever you look at all you see is evil. You become a tyrant. All you have is sadness on the verge of anger. The real dumb thing of this pain is being due to nothing but chemical imbalance caused by a painful childhood. No one is to blame. Your family did their best. Everyone has limitations and yours is the inability to overcome trauma. You are chemically marked for life and must deal with it, both with medication and behavior, namely well structured routines. Things will get wrong over and over again. You will be beaten up and fall of exhaustion. All you got to do is rest and rise for the adapted routine. That kind of sums up your life. The damn pain will always be there to haunt and freeze you. A life carrying the weight of nothingness.
My lungs and belly are squeezed again. The elephant foot of generalized anxiety disorder is striking me back. Cutting the dose of the antidepressant is not working. It’s too soon for that. The omnipresent chill and the overlapping light-speed thoughts around my possible mistakes in dealing with people are getting me back to paralysis. A high amount of effort, energy and discipline is summoned to get this giant foot out of my chest. I fear the abyss of exhaustion presented to me. I hope the reposition of the dose of the antidepressant does its thing.
I have no salary now. I left teaching, definitely. I am trying to collect and sell houses to earn commissions. It is weird, talking on the phone and presenting myself as the ideal partner to solve financial stresses. All I want is to make comic books.