Sometimes I think my brain is going to explode. As if the top is going to come off and the previously packed-in contents are going to burst out all over the house. Little bits of thought splatting onto walls and floors, getting caught in the curtains, stuck in the cobwebs and captured in the crevices.
My thoughts are so fierce sometimes it's like they have a life of their own. I imagine once they've made the emergency exit from my brain, I will be finding them for weeks. Half-thought ideas stuffed down the side of the sofa, judgements kicked under the table, and over worked self-doubts buried in the corners of the carpet where the hoover doesn't quite reach.
My over-thinking brain is never busier than when I'm stressed. The stress stews away in my head like a bubbling saucepan and the more it builds the higher the temperature gets. And if I don't do something to lift the lid, I boil over. I've kicked things (inanimate objects luckily!), shouted at people (not so lucky), and broken cheap plates.
Recently I've been playing with the idea that stress and depression go hand in hand. I really didn't twig until now how closely they live. It's like they're brother and sister; two peas in a pod; a down-beat, dead-end double act.
It's clear to me I need to start turning down the heat. Every day. I can't wait until the lid is tipping and clacking off the pan. So I'm getting strict about my self-care; I'm switching on my switching off.
Sometimes it doesn't take long: I can lie in the bath and feel the temperature dropping or climb a hill and breathe in the view. I can lose myself in art or a book or a long hug from a friend. Other times I need a day... a week... a month.
My commitment is to small moments of mindfulness and relaxation every single day. To turn down the dial one notch at a time. Come join me and maybe together we can turn off the cooker ;-)
A Moodscope member.
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