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Again, I’m unable to sleep with my mind racing, flashbacks happening and my brain refusing to give into sleep – even with the help of medication, so, yet again, I’m thinking that maybe writing just might alleviate the endless pressure cooker of thoughts and anxieties that are racing through my mind, and all of the over analysing that comes with said anxieties…….

So – I was going to start writing about how much leaving the house is a massive thing for me now, and, I will get to it, but one other small thing that is now not so small is talking – our most basic form of communication, and to be blunt – I suck at it.  For a person who worked in sales for over 10 years, struggling to talk is kinda a big deal, and it’s scary.  I want to talk, I really do, luckily I have the most amazing fiancé, who is so incredibly patient and understanding, but I struggle, daily, hell, it’s almost hourly lately.  My mind is continuously racing with thoughts, and yet, when I go to actually speak – I am pretty certain that the connection between brain and mouth runs away in fear of what I might say.

In the last 6 months, things have been pretty crappy, safe to say possibly the lowest point in my life, I’ve lost so much (and yes I have gained a lot too) my life as I knew it is gone, and I really have to start over, that’s terrifying it really is, and I have no idea where to begin.  It was hard enough losing my career, but I lost my freedom and when you’re in prison – you’re not a person – you’re prisoner number 1234 you lose any sense of self that you have, and you begin to question everything about yourself, everything you knew…..it’s such a bizarre feeling to have.

When I first went into jail the world in there (and yes it is a world of it’s own) seemed foreign and unreal, kinda like a really messed up dream, and the world I had just been ripped away from was what felt real, then, I’m not sure how much time had passed, but it became reversed, and my connection that I felt towards myself, and my life prior to being incarcerated was gone, it was like it was someone else, not me.  Needless to say, that has had all sorts of impact on me mentally, and emotionally.  The smallest things have made such a difference, it’s not the big things that I missed the most – it’s the parts of our everyday life that we take for granted, something as simple as walking on the grass in bare feet, having the ability to shower whenever you want to, being able to receive a phone call, not just make one, to sit in the sun, to eat food you like, when you want. To stay up late, to sleep if you’re tired……options, endless options – and the ability and freedom to choose which option you want.

The life I knew, and the life I have now are so very different, and yet I cannot say if one is better or worse than the other.  I know emotionally and mentally I’m a bit more beaten than what I was, but I’m also a bit stronger.  My anxiety is worse, I freak out a lot more, and I’m no longer comfortable in my life, I feel out of place, awkward if you like.  It’s not that I feel that I don’t “fit” anymore, it’s that I’m unsure how…..to give an answer to a simple question is a struggle at times, having freedom is more overwhelming than I can put into words, simple decisions, simple questions can be a challenge for me.  Sounds almost silly doesn’t it?

Well I think that’s this post done, My medication is beginning to kick in at it’s full strength, and I’m struggling with coherent thoughts.  I apologise if this post has been a bit all over the place.  It’s hard to keep up with how fast my mind likes to chop and change between things.

I’ll write more soon

xx

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