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Aug. 29th, 2008
Yeah, well, I'm pretty rubbish at coping, aren't I?
One setback and I turn into a gibbering wreck. Everything I've achieved over the years vanishes from sight. Paranoia seeps through the cracks in my shell. I get that old, old feeling that goes back to being at school, that the world is scrutinising me minutely, waiting for me to fail so that I can be publicly humiliated and made to recognise my worthlessness.
I need a survival strategy. I have one, in part. Running helps. So do long walks on the beach. Even though reading when I'm agitated is not easy, and writing is impossible because I feel the scrutiny of those eyes, waiting for the slip-up, doing the cross-stitch is soothing for short periods. But I need something else, I think.
Do others have a coping mechanism that they'd like to suggest?
One setback and I turn into a gibbering wreck. Everything I've achieved over the years vanishes from sight. Paranoia seeps through the cracks in my shell. I get that old, old feeling that goes back to being at school, that the world is scrutinising me minutely, waiting for me to fail so that I can be publicly humiliated and made to recognise my worthlessness.
I need a survival strategy. I have one, in part. Running helps. So do long walks on the beach. Even though reading when I'm agitated is not easy, and writing is impossible because I feel the scrutiny of those eyes, waiting for the slip-up, doing the cross-stitch is soothing for short periods. But I need something else, I think.
Do others have a coping mechanism that they'd like to suggest?
