The Strange Art of Spiralling

Have you ever hated something so much that you just want to run away and never look back?

What if that something is yourself?

Feeling terribly trapped in a person you hate. I experience this.

Wow, writing that makes me cry.

I don’t know where or when my anxiety popped up. I don’t know when I started being so destructive. I don’t know when I started to beat myself up. I don’t know when I started letting it control my life.

Everything seems a bit overwhelming when I start to spiral.

It starts with a simple mistake, a destructive remark, an imperfect Christa.

Next, I am beating myself up for that mistake, recalling every other time in my life that I have made similar mistakes.

Then my focus shifts to those around me. I realize how negatively my actions are affecting those around me. I realize that my actions are wrecking not only my moments, but the moments of those around me.

Then my focus shifts again, I realize that by beating myself up I am only amplifying the problem, making everything worse.

Then the voices get louder, my mistakes seem bigger.

That is when the hatred kicks in. I hate that I beat myself up. I hate that I am wrecking my life and the lives of those around me. And I hate that I hate myself.

I keep spiraling.

I start to panic.

The hatred continues.

I realize that I hate myself for all the mistakes, all the harsh self-talk, all the wrecking of moments, all the destructive actions, words and thoughts. I hate myself because I hate myself.

When the hatred comes the terrible self-talk gets louder, the devil grabs a tighter grip on my heart.

By this point I am laying on the ground. Bawling hysterically. The room is spinning. I feel so light headed. I feel like I am going to faint. I feel hopeless. I feel lost. I feel confused. I feel alone.

I would never physically hurt myself, but I spare no expense when it comes tearing myself apart both emotionally and mentally.

I don’t know when or where or why my anxiety has started to control my life. I don’t know when I became so fragile.

I am sick of feeling the pit of anxiety in my heart. I am sick of having to pep talk myself in order to complete the most mundane tasks. I am sick of having joyous moments ripped from my life by anxiety. I am sick having to lie when people ask how I am doing.

This is my cry for help. For serious help. I can’t  push through it anymore. I can’t. I just can’t.


I wrote this during my latest and second ever anxiety attack.

I am so scared for my mental health 

I am feeling light headed 

I am spinning out of am control 

It is only getting worse 

I experience such self hated 

I tear myself apart 

I hate myself 

I hate how I always wreck the perfect moments 

I hate how I am so destructive 

 

I hate myself

It scares me. It scares me because it feels surreal. It scares me because I didn’t know I was capable of possessing such darkness. It scares me because I can’t hear myself muttering these words. This is not the Christa I know.

I refuse to become this Christa. I refuse to live in this darkness.



I have written blogs like this before, but they never get posted. I hoping that by sharing this, people who are going through similar things realize that they are not alone. We are all in this together.

I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine.

Peace and Love. xx

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