Calming effect

The simplest things can have a calming effect on me, A hug, a smile, a well-timed phone call, a spanking... As introverted and antisocial as I am, I still need those 'strokes' to get me out of myself. I will often let tiny things take over and destroy me. Yeah, it's personal.

I dissect things constantly. It's my nature to do so. I want to see what's inside of things, especially me. I carefully dissect others, and work hard to put things back exactly as I found them. With myself, I rip and tear with gleeful abandon, forgetting that my duty to myself is to nurture and love myself, because I'm really the only one who can 'fix' me. That last sentence was courtesy of  my damned self-awareness that makes my psychiatrist/therapist so proud of me. (grumbles) Okay, so I'm careful with others, not so much with myself.  I allow my worries and feelings to get the better of me. I panic, I worry, and I go into this awful feeling of self-loathing. Then I drop, and I drop hard.

I wish my understanding all this made it easier on me, but, dammit! It makes it worse. I have miserable, stupid pity parties that manage to confuse everyone around me. "Oh, is that what got you worked up? Why that's nothing!" I want to scream out loud and say "Sure! To you it's nothing, to me, its a fucking disaster!" Fortunately, I learned how to bite my tongue a long time ago. Good thing, too, or I wouldn't have any friends!

So, anyway, I spent a huge portion of my day yesterday in bed feeling sorry for myself, wondering where and how I managed to fuck things up. Yes, I always blame myself. It's just how I am. I finally wrote about it to get it out of my system, and when my head finally hit the pillow about 4 this morning, I was feeling a little better.

When I got out of bed about noon, I had even pretty much resolved that I had overreacted as usual, and that there had to be a logical explanation as to why I didn't get a response.  I mean, I know Spike. He wouldn't just outright ignore a request without good reason or an explanation. Sure enough, when I checked my phone, there was a test from him saying he was fine, and he didn't receive the text I sent him on Friday. Yes, this is good and a relief, but now I'm second-guessing myself, worrying that my emotional overreaction will scare him away. Again, with the tearing myself apart!

it's not Spike's job to reassure me that I'm okay. It's my job to tell myself that this overreacting is a bit much, and I need to relax. Whatever happens, happens. It's not the end of the world. It is whatever it's meant to be, and I have to stop tearing myself apart. Life goes on. Life will go on whether or not I've fucked up, and I have to quit worrying. All worrying will do is make me miserable all over again.

So, yes, I feel better, calmer. Now I just have to relax and not worry about what might happen next.