Overthinking

She says I overthink

She doesn’t know the half

She says I overthink

She’s not there

The nights I send myself into a dizzy

She doesn’t see

The times I make myself oh so dizzy

And she says I overthink

She says I overthink

She doesn’t even know

The tailspin

Which my mind can go

I journal it through

To put some of it down

When it’s on paper

It stops it going aroun’

And she says I overthink

She says I overthink.

I wonder what she’d say

If she were there through the night

The nights I can’t make it stop

Though I use all my might

The nights I keep on freaking

Though I keep up the fight

Would she still say I overthink

Or know that doesn’t begin to describe

The mess my head can be

When it hurts for me to abide

Would she say I overthink still

When I just want to go to bed

When I wish I could stop the words spinning

Round and round in my head

When I try my best to replace it

With anything else in its’ stead

She says I overthink

Do I overthink I wonder

Does that even begin to describe

The storm gone asunder

She says I overthink.

She says I overthink.

What do words mean to you?

Words
Words
So many words
They dance
They twirl
They flit
They swirl
The words
Words
So many words
Jumping
Playing
Laughing
Running
These words
Words
So many words
As the letters
Come together
In my head
One after
Another
Words
Words
So many words

Poetry, rhymes, descending lines

I was having a conversation
With Kate on her post called folly
I replied in descending
Syllables. Had her guess
What it was I did
The first lines are
Here for you
To read
Enjoy

Can you finish the nonsense above?

I chose to write in descending syllables
Because of I remembered Girl of two worlds
She did some verse on her awesome blog
Her words were like glittery pearls
I planned to do it just now
For a moment in time
But continued on
Found it really
Lotsa fun
Your turn
Now

Write it on here
Or your blog
To link
Here

Thoughts.

I’m sad.

Someone messaged me a really gorgeous message that it’s been a while since they’ve heard from me and they’re a little worried and could I please respond. No pressure but yes pressure.

I’m sad. I’m sad I scared her. I don’t even know if she was scared. I remember TC telling me when I got her post that when she sent it she had no idea whether I’d actually get it or not. I felt the same way then.

I do feel something. Even though I can’t name it.

I hate that I scared her. I don’t know how scared she was or wasn’t. And it’s not like I can even go and tell her she had no reason to worry. It’s not like what I’ve been doing has no potential of killing me. This person doesn’t really know what’s been going on. I’d never tell her. It’s. Yeah whatever.

I can’t really share my world with people. I can on here because it’s public so it’s not like I’m reaching out to a specific person. I can’t reach out in that way. I wouldn’t get what I needed. And even if I did I couldn’t risk not getting it. And I know I don’t deserve others to be there. I know I can’t reach out to others for I’m not worthy of their time. Which is also why all the people who respond here mean so much to me. Especially those who don’t know me at all. You know who you are. I haven’t read your blog. I don’t know your life. I haven’t been here for you. Yet you’re here for me. What’s ironic is how many people I have always responded to and been there for who haven’t been here for me. Most of them I don’t care. I know I don’t deserve it.

I wish she hadn’t been scared. I replied. And. I’m sad I scared her.

Somehow I’m still here. I’m not sure how come I still am. There were so many times during the past few months that I knew I wouldn’t be. Yet I’m here.

I bought myself something expensive yesterday. I’ve been wanting it for months but I haven’t bought it because I may not live, and if I’m not alive than it’s pointless buying it. As in I don’t want the money to be wasted. Buying it, whether I do or don’t keep it (I wonder if it may go down in price over lockdown) is an affirmation of life. Is a statement that I believe I’m going to be here to use and make use of it.

I emailed someone some of this. I feel bad. I know she’ll respond. I’m obligating her to respond. And for all I know this is all too much for her. She just replied and she completely missed the point. I succeeded in scaring her but whatever. Her emails mean way too much to me. I’m on edge until she responds. And then I often have to explain what I meant.

I need to sleep.

Relationships, boundaries, and responsibility 3

Saying yes, taking responsibility, gave me the right to exist. K, so I’m speculating here, but I’m trying to put my thoughts into words, and either it’s true, or it’s not. I’m going to put it down. And it could be I’ll turn around one day and say that this is nonsense.

I grew up feeling responsible for others.

I grew up feeling guilty for existing. The guilt comes from the fact that through existing, by living, I’m hurting others. That’s not just speculation or a kids thoughts. It’s still the reality today. By existing I’m hurting someone. By living I have hurt people. Not through anything I did. Just through existing. One of those people have changed a lot. I no longer hurt her through my existence. I’m not blaming myself here. I never did anything wrong. That person was threatened by my existence. I did nothing to cause that. It was her issue. She’s changed. The person I still hurt through existing has special needs, mental health difficulties etc and will not be able to change. The fact is I hurt her by living. I don’t think I feel guilty for it any longer. I used to. By now I know it’s not my problem. There are others I hurt by being me. It’s not my existence that hurts them, but that I’m me. And if I ever truly live my own life I’ll really hurt my parents.

The guilt for living has played a big role in my life. I still don’t believe I’m allowed to exist, however I don’t feel guilty for those people.

I’m wondering if giving to others, being whatever others needed me to be, justified my existence somewhat. I’m here, and I shouldn’t be here, because I’m hurting people, their lives would be better without me, if I’m making other peoples lives better, maybe it balances that out. Makes it somewhat okay that I’m living, even though I shouldn’t be. Balances out the pain I’m causing to others.

The only problem there lies that giving gives meaning to my life. I love giving to others. Not because I have to. Not because it justifies my existence. But because I love giving.

When I said that saying no goes against my nature R’R commented nature or conditioning?

I think both. Conditioning is that I’m not allowed to exist. Nature is I love to give. Whether by nature or by nurture I feel others. Whether that’s inherent or something I had to develop or both. When I was speaking to E she told me about her arm hurting. I felt the pain in my own arm. Not physically, but yes physically. I don’t know how to explain it. Her pain hurt me. I don’t really know what physical agony feels like. I know I’ve experienced physical agony – when I got burned (I’d say burned myself but that sounds like I caused it. Someone dropped a pot. Thankfully of water!!!!! It could have been the oil pot…) and my arm was debrided – do not google. I wrote a poem then about pain. I don’t recall the pain. I recall hating others doing things for me. I couldn’t do anything because I couldn’t use my arm at all…

I feel others pain. I want to take their pain and take it away from them. I feel others pain too much. It’s funny how I so feel others pain yet cannot feel anything about or for myself. Though then again my life was a pretty calm, good life.

Anyways, the point I was making is that I love to give. And that giving gives meaning to my life. And that I wonder if giving was a way for me to justify my existence.

This is also why I think I don’t ADHD. Because I go back to what I started off with. A past friend once said to me that she loved how though I’d jump from A, to B, to C, I’d always go back to A, to B, to C.

Relationships, boundaries and responsibility 2

I began writing about saying no. And I wanted to continue it.

I said no. I actually said no.

It’s both strange, and awesome. Amazing that I put myself first.

I was asked to do something really small. It wasn’t really what I was asked to do that was hard. It was that she constantly calls me. That she can call me 5 times in a day. Every time she needs my help. It’s too much. It was the way she’d tell me not to worry when I couldn’t help. It was too much for me. So this time when she asked I said no. When the other day she asked if I can check something up on the internet I told her that I wouldn’t be able to do anything on the internet for her.

I called my friend E to tell her that I said no. E said that she thinks I always felt responsible for others happiness. I think it’s more than that. I’ve felt responsible for their lives. When S said she was going to kill herself, that meant it’s my responsibility for her to live.

I’ve always been responsible. Not for peoples happiness. For their okayness. So when said friend needed something, I had to do it. Because it’s my responsibility.

Which of course. It isn’t.

A person can only carry a certain amount of responsibility. When I took responsibility for everyone I never took any responsibility for myself. Over the past couple years I’ve been letting go of the responsibility I was holding for others and taking responsibility for myself. Then finding the balance of still asking for help because when I took responsibility for myself I had to go to the other extreme first. Hey. I think I’m actually doing that. Not that I can easily ask for help. I can’t. I can accept help and take responsibility for myself.

So the instagram post I shared above is really why I started writing this. I just haven’t actually done so. I guess I’ll continue in another post as this is too disjointed.