I am uncontrollably bouncing between exile, manager, and firefighter. “Self” is so lost.

Trying to remind myself what is happening or explain it to myself in somewhat logical terms, is merely causing me to slow down enough to attempt to cope but there is so much anxiety I’m on the brink of not being able stand it.

I tried to tell my husband. I did tell my therapist. No one can help me. I feel alone. And I’m just going to crawl under my weighted blanket and hope and pray this goes away or I go away so I don’t have to face another morning waking up like this.