My parents aren’t home
You know what that means
*sits in the living room instead of sealing myself away in my room*
i dont even sleep anymore i just die for a couple hours each day
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.
The truth is that often times those who suffer from this illness [anxiety] are beautiful souls who feel the depth of beauty in this world more acutely than many others and this sensitivity is why they love so deeply, feel the pain of others as if it were their own and why they are the poets, artists, dreamers, inventors, who taste the stuff of God in every breath, yet these powers when out of balance can create madness and chaos because of our sensitivity. Understanding that this illness is all about the sympathetic nervous system being out of balance and fueled by thinking patterns that are destructive was huge for me. To learn to let a thought float, to accept it, and pass through it, no matter how uncomfortable it was was pure poetry to understand…You are not alone. Remember it is often your beauty which can turn too deeply inward and creates over-sensitivity which when met with a serious problem/conflict can result in a nervous explosion. This is the way out, along with love from others, and the help of God where faith is already in place.
SMSeattle review from “Hope and Help for Your Nerves” by Claire Weekes (via psych-facts)