claus·tro·pho·bic - "Clinically speaking, claustrophobic refers to an abnormal tendency to feel terror in closed spaces. But like other terms used to describe psychological conditions (narcissistic and schizophrenic, for example), claustrophobic has been applied more loosely in general usage over time. At first it referred to any kind of temporary feeling of being closed in or unable to escape (I felt claustrophobic in that tiny room). Then it became common to use it to refer to any kind of space that might make a person feel such sensations (The staff members are jammed into a nest of claustrophobic offices). This latter usage is unacceptable to 74 percent of the Usage Panel, implying that claustrophobic should be used only to describe a psychological state."
Again, I am unacceptable, in this case by 74%. I most often find myself holding up the back drop, making sure the walls don't cave in. Sometimes, I want to be the figure in the center of the room, living carelessly. I want to just not care, while somehow. Still Surviving.
Today, I returned from a short vacation away from my most hated place on earth. It was nice, but ended in a dark black place for me. I am still strong, just not colorful. I've sat here all day, hoping for something, anything to change my mood. Something, to change my life. I've been waiting for nearly 7 hours, and nothing good, positive and full of color has crossed my path. I guess this portrait, this image of my life involves much black paint. Does the artist know that I love orange?
Last night, I was watching TV. I was sort of laying, sort of watching the TV. I could hardly concentrate, I was barely interested. My chest felt tight, almost to the point where I had to breath heavy just to relax. I thought, how bad will this get before I realize I should call 911. I realized, I may not even dial 911. In the end, I didn't need to. I wish there was a "911" for fear of my own life dieing. My soul, my spirit, my energy. I mean, I can call forhelp if I am bleeding, or if my heart fails or attacks, but there is no number for the death of me, non-organ related.
Earlier, I was having this conversation. Talking about this and that, realizing during the conversation, I was not listening, nor contributing. I ended the call with a statement, goodbye. There is a lot to be said in that one word. People take it for granted. People take everything for granted, then later want to know why. Why did this happen to them? Humans, we are selfish creatures.
Right now, I want to cry, I want to scream. sigh...I am. I am the master at crying invisible tears, and screaming a soundless roar. All of it, controls my feelings. Constantly making my body motionless. Leaving me, scared and claustrophobic of me.
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