I haven't been feeling much like writting for a long time. I have not been clear and mindful in my life. I am stressed. I am just overwhelmed and obsessing and exhausted. I have not been well lately because of this is stress. This stress is so tiresome that I had a total meltdown and locked myself in the dark basement with a book. I have stopped caring about cleaning. In fact, my place is in such dissorder that I wouldn't know where to start. I am back to not eating properly, and I don't care about that either. Any thing in my life that I had any beliefs of having any sense of control over, I have avoided. This has not done much for my anxiety because now I stress about not doing anything. No lists, No chores, No cooking, and No ambition. I feel as though I do not get validation or appreciation around here. I feel as though I have pushed myself into a corner and there I lay. I believe that if my standards too high for me, so high that I break down, than how could anyone else measure up. I am still having anxiety in regards to my home. Something in the fridge smells like, um, stink. Stuff is scattered all over the living room, stairs, hallways, and bathrooms. It is unkept, and looks that way. I am overpowered by the urge to write a+ist, to the point where I have to take my paper and pens away from myself. I have to let go, but it feels like it is at the cost of living with anxiety and distress. I just want to close my eyes to it all and continue to hide.
