Losing Control

One of the reasons that I have chosen solitude over pursuing a relationship in the past was my inherent fear of losing control of my emotions. It's all too easy to sit in front of the phone, or the PC waiting for that call/email to enter your life; but then there is a split moment when you realise that you shouldn't spend 20mins in front of inanimate objects that may, or may not, deliver messages from people who are on your mind for a large portion of your day. I perceive it as I wasted and lost 20mins of my precious life, and I have nothing to show for it apart from the feeling of shame and foolishness for acting the same way I did as a 14 year old.

So who's email am I waiting for? I'm not entirely sure yet....

The difficulty in letting someone into your life when you are a depressed bulimic with an alcohol problem is that the other party inevitably finds it hard to handle your mood swings, your relapses, your sudden need for total solitude, and, of course, your lifestyle/habits when it comes to food. What does one say on their first date when they have been invited to an expensive restaurant that serves a set course? Or how does one explain the "pill case" that contains 3 or 4 different types of medication that you have to take after every meal? What if you start to see each other more seriously? How do you hide the fact that you are not getting any better, nor do you have the capacity to recover? It's easy for a diabetic to explain their medical condition to their partners, but for some reason there is still a stigma attached to those of us who have a "psychological condition" that is caused by/causes a chemical imbalance in the brain. My condition, just as with diabetes, manifested as a result of both environmental and genetic factors, but why is it that I still live in fear of being exposed?

It's the nature of my condition: it's the nature of me.

Have you ever experienced the feeling of anxiety when you tell a lie to your loved ones, knowing that they may find out one day that you were not entirely honest? Have you ever felt the fear of losing yourself, your identity, as you uncontrollably surrender your entire ethos over to a person that you so dearly love and care about? Have you ever been consumed by your own feeling of inadequacy, the sensation of being a dark cloud, a burden to someone you care that you forcefully withdraw yourself for the sake of protecting the person you care so much?

I was once told by someone that I was intimate with a long time ago, that being with me was like tip-toeing around broken glass; extra care had to be taken not to stand on the glass lest there be more damage done, and also to stop oneself from being cut by one of the sharp, dispersed fragments.

Today, years have past, I am still a piece of a broken glass, I still make people who are close to me tip-toe around me, and I am still waiting for that phone call/email from a stranger who may, or may not enter my life. I already miss and long for that which I do not have -- or will never have. And inevitably, to avoid pain from disappointment, abandonment, and a broken heart I become a recluse who communicates only with their inner voice...

Slowly but surely, I am losing control. I am losing control of both my mind, and my heart. And this time, not even my sobriety is going to get me out of my own madness.