Anxiety. Bleh.

I know that there is a relaxed person inside of me. Maybe I really am type A and am in a serious state of denial. But I don't think so.

It's weird, 'cause I am pretty articulate. When I allow myself to communicate, I really can match up the words to the thoughts that are rambling around in my head. But it always seems to be in this slightly autistic, borderline unhinged kind of way. It's verbal vomit, where I am not really thinking about what I am saying, I'm just sayin'...it. And it's right. I am actually communicating the right thought to correspond with the current situation. It might not be pretty, but it's out there in the open where it is much easier to manage. It's as if my brain is a candy machine (I think I would charge more than a penny for my thoughts, though) and my subconscious can access it to dispense the words with the touch of a button.

It's the thinking that fucks it up.

Thinking too much causes me to become this very verbal, very communicative mute. Because I censor myself so much, my voice has become this rusty mechanism that I don't trust to function properly anymore. I've never much liked to hear myself speak, I prefer to listen. Honestly, it's just easier. But it's counter-productive to the point of being damaging. Damaging to myself and to those that I love. At least in my head.

Because they can't follow me to wherever I go when I shut down. They can't know how much I love them when all that's out in the open is a mask of indifference. And silence. Somehow I have managed to create silence that is LOUD, this almost tangible refusal to speak, make eye contact, or act like I give a crap, really. It's gotta be difficult to understand that I'm really just being hard on myself in my head, willing myself to use my big girl words, trying to find a way that makes sense to me, trying to stop thinking and just be. To just speak.

It's hard to explain that even when I know that something is not a big deal, it's seems so to me. My whirring mind spins things so vastly out of proportion so quickly that even I have a hard time figuring out where the hot mess of drama that it turns into comes from. Most of the time I am able to sort through the BS detritus that my brain has created and set myself straight...sometimes before it's even noticeable that I went to that weird place. But sometimes I get stuck there and it seems that nothing short of Divine intervention, a backhoe and some dynamite will make me come away.

And I am there now.