Im just sitting here thinking over and over again about my living space.
My brain will not stop.
I don't obsessively clean or move furniture around (although i do move furniture around a lot), but I "think and think" about how to rearrange this living space all the time.
So much so that I just sit, look around, and get lost in thought. Lose the time. Get anxious to even move.
And i fucking hate it.
And Im ready to tell my therapist to give me more or GTFO. Like, a lot more.
If she doesn't want to do CBT with me then fuckit. This talking bullshit isn't doing anything.
I have whole fucking days of sitting in my bedroom with constant - CONSTANT - like, literal nonstop fucking anxiety. Unable to even come out into the kitchen to make food for the kids. And my brain doesn't stop!
Imaginary conversations rule my thoughts - what am i going to say to so-and-so, or what was said to so-and-so, how would I say something to so-and-so in such-and-such a situation...
So this talking it out therapy is bull - fucking - shit! Thats why I keep a blog.
ugh, this isn't even half the shit thats on my mind today.
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Please forgive me. This blog is my outlet so I don't explode at the people nearest to me - my family.
For crap sake, if anyone out there can relate please say something, comment, anything. Im shit at reaching out. And I don't think there's a big blogger community anymore. Perhaps I might find a general forum for my troubles. I don't know. And twitter sucks.
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