Spirals.

If I’m writing a blog post while on outreach, I must either have an abundance of free time, or something big enough to get through the still sort of there emotional block. I haven’t had downtime in a week. Take that as you will.  

Our hosts have the stomach flu. I appreciate Drew and Alyssa for trying to convince us (Trevor) that it was “just food poisoning!” but if that were the case, Asia and Nan would have gotten sick at the same time. This commune is small (it’s not a commune, I need to do a more recent “who I am and what I’m doing” post as I have gained a few unfamiliar readers. But not today.) There is no where for me to go to hide. I can’t leave, so going on a run is out (I like to run in situations like these. Symbolic of running away from the issue.) The walls don’t block sound in any way at all. I can hear. Everything. Hygiene is difficult in Thailand. I feel gross. Grimy. For lack of a better/more censored term, the only thing that would make me feel fully clean is finding a completely sterilized room AWAY from this place and being power washed. Specifically my hands. They feel crawly. They haven’t felt that way in a while. I feel like a lot of stuff has been building up to this spiral. 

I’m currently reading Turtles all the way down by John Green. (This is very relevant. You want to know why? Because I said so, and this is my blog.) The main character reminds me very much of myself. Aza has OCD (debatable in my case) and that shows itself very strongly when it comes to germs. Hers is more micro-bacteria related, and mine is strictly emetophobia. But those are close enough to each other that I can still relate. In this book, she describes her spirals as ever tightening, and never ending. I would say that mine are opposite, ever expanding and slowly take over. There’s an instance where the narrative switches between her rational thoughts and the intrusive ones. I read that page a few times. It felt like I was reading something that I had written. I might do a more in depth book and life analysis tomorrow when I finish the book. But for now, I need to stay on topic. 

I’m mostly out of it now. If I had to gauge, my mental state is resting solidly at a 5. Talking and generally being in the same space as Trevor helped. He understands what I’m going through because he is also going through it. Anyway. Before talking with him for maybe two hours, I was resting at a 2. Maybe a 2.5. It wasn’t a full blown panic attack. But it was bad enough to warrant writing about it. Now. If you read further than this, please please please keep in mind that I am not always in such an altered mindset. This is not who I am all of the time. With that being said: here is the spiral. Or at least my more sane rendition of it. 

It started off simply enough. “Someone is sick. Is it that kind of sick? Oh it is. Oh Asia and Nan both have it. It’s a good thing I didn’t go to soccer tonight. I would have seen it. I would have been exposed. Wait. Asia was sick last night. And people are contagious before they throw up. Nan made me coffee this morning. Did he do anything else? Do you think he made the eggs this morning? Why did I have to eat an egg. I should have settled for toast. I KNEW that the eggs were not safe. Oh shit wait I’m spiraling. I feel like Aza. This is strange. Ok so I should stop spiraling. Get busy. Busy busy busy. I’ll make my bed. No. No no no. Oh no someone is sick. Everyone is sick. I need to get out. I can’t leave. I’ll go sit in my corner. Problem solve. *wracks brain for solutions for maybe ten minutes* nothing. Nothing at all. Oh no no no. I need to get out. Surely if I go for a walk now they’ll understand. I’ll be fast. But you’re not supposed to leave. Aaaand now I’m past the gate. NO I can’t break the rules. I don’t know where to go. *shadowy side of the balcony* I’m ok I’m ok I’m ok repeatedly for close to five minutes until. Oh is that. Oh thats. I can hear it. I. No. I need to go.” Now this is where it starts to get REALLY not great. Why am I writing this. This is stupid. I shouldn’t post this. I probably will though. Anyway. I moved to the populated part of the balcony, put an earbud in, and stared at the ceiling. “My breathing is shallow. Oh theres a bug up there. I hope it doesn’t fall on me. Is that cough another… no. Its not. I’m ok. The bedrooms are too far from the bathroom. It’s in the food. Think about thanksgiving. They all got sick because one person made the food. Its in the food. Back back back to square one. I won’t eat. That might save me. I had coffee. What about tomorrow? If someone gets sick on a long car ride. Like when Karis. I can’t do that. I can’t go. No.  No you have to go. They have already done SO much to make sure you can go. Accommodations don’t exist in the real world. And you want to come back on staff?? You really ARE crazy.” The thoughts did in fact switch from I to you. I could not make this up if I tried. “You won’t be able to do anything. You can’t do anything. You are too weak to survive. You should end it now before you get worse, because you won’t get better. Oh. Thats not a good thought. Why is a panic spiral bringing that up? Thats unusual. No it’s not. You don’t want to be better. You like this. You find comfort in it. … I. No. It’s just throwing up. It’ll be over by next week.  A week is a long time. You really expect to come back on staff? You won’t be able to do that. You won’t be able to hold down a job. You won’t find a person who will love you. You’ll scare Cody away. You probably already have. Hey now, thats all ridiculous. Is it? Isn’t it? You tell me. We are the same person. Mm. How would I do it?” Now the switch away from you back to I seems important too, so thats interesting. I will also spare the details. I don’t know what triggers people and I don’t know what might make things worse for me if and when I go back and read this. Long story short, not sane Kiah has tried on many occasions to convince sane Kiah that there is nothing I can do to get better, and these things that are wrong with me will keep me from ever being happy, and right now, from ever getting on staff. So instead of ya know. Trying. I should just kill myself. Its not a super great mindset. I know. It’s not incredibly common, in fact, it used to be flat out rare, but since outreach, it’s gotten worse. Anyway. quite a bit of suicidal ideation later, Trevor enters the scene. He asks if I’m planning to go down to dinner. I say I’m waiting for my heart rate to regulate. It’s not working very well. He sits down. We talk. I share some of my spiral. But not all of it. By no means all of it. This still isn’t all of it. We are there for a while. Drew and Alyssa come up at some point to get a gauge of how we are. Tell us we have to eat breakfast but they are ok with us skipping dinner. They leave. We stay for a bit longer. Trevor sings a song one of his family members wrote. That did succeed in regulating my heart rate, and in time to rejoin the group. I was better after this. I’m still in crisis mode, but boy howdy do I love to compartmentalize. I can even listen to Nan throwing up with some level of calmness. 

If someone does get sick while we’re out tomorrow… I don’t know what I’ll do. I literally can’t bring myself to fully think about it. I would have a massive panic attack. It is inevitable. Trevor asked if anything would help. Presence, touch. I don’t know. Of the few massive attacks I’ve had, I didn’t really have many thoughts besides “panic panic panic oh wow I can’t breathe that’s kinda silly panic panic panic.” During smaller attacks (like today) I would say yes. To both of those things. Unfortunately in my four ish years of having whatever the heck this is, I have always been alone. I told him that. Hopefully that conversation doesn’t mean anything. At least with huge panic attacks. Minor ones are ok. At the very least, they’re common enough I’ve learned to treat them as a fact of life.

So. That’s a slightly censored version of what the inside of my mind looks like in a spiral. Someone remind me to talk about the book I’m reading at some point. I am avoiding sleep.