After a great day, my creativity goes on overdrive. It is refreshing, because there was so little time for personal exploration during the 10 years I was working all day and going to school at night. Having so many ideas and seeing things moving along in my professional and personal lives is truly liberating.
However, the post-great day anxiety can also be a bit frightening sometimes. The anxiety gets to be somewhat terrifying when I stop sleeping. 24 hours is acceptable once in a while. Sometimes we pull all nighters to get things done that need to be done. But as the clock ticks towards 36 hours, I reach this weird point where I could probably keep staying up. I could stay up. My anxiety – the fear that this good day is going to go bad any moment – could easily run wild on me. If I let it.
If I don’t slow my brain down, I could end up right back in that dark place I have vowed to never return to. It’s not an immediate threat or anything, thankfully. I have been told by competent medical professionals that the risk of a second psychotic break in my situation is not likely. But even a positive statement like that from a trusted physician doesn’t end the internal struggle in the anxiety-ridden mind.
Resolving the anxious thought process when you’re within it requires a special mental strength all its own. First, you have to talk to the logical side of yourself that says whatever bad scary thing you’re thinking is highly unlikely and, more likely impossible. So stop being a pansy and get your shit together. *Ahem* But then, you also have to be sensitive with yourself. You have to talk to your inner self, and tell her that you’re here now. That although things are scary in there sometimes, you’re here to help her through it. A little at a time. Together.
At least that’s what I’ve been reading has to happen. I’ve been reading a lot of amazing blogs and websites out there about healing and supporting your inner child. As I’ve been trying it out myself – with the help of a fantastic therapist – I’m finding that it is strange, difficult, and a roller coaster of emotions. But it really helps.
I’ve always been good at the first part. A Math degree? Logic is my middle name. Well, it’s not, but you know what I’m saying. It’s that second part that both scares and angers me. I don’t like the idea that I have to be the responsible one yet again. I’ve always been the responsible one. I had to be when I was growing up or I’d be subjected to my parents’ wrath. It also scares me shitless because I know there is more that my inner child has left to say. A lot more.