I started writing a blog post yesterday and I didn’t actually finish it.
I published it anyway for some reason, and the result can be found here. I think I managed to put some semi-decent finishing touches on it and at least come to some sort of conclusion.
I didn’t actually proof-read it. I just hit the shiny, blue “publish” button and tried to forget. But I had really had a lot more to say.
Somewhere in the middle of writing, a tsunami of memories crashed over my brain and I just couldn’t write anymore. Couldn’t…function anymore. My brain had warped back to 2006 and wasn’t coming back. Maybe its DeLorean ran out of plutonium. I don’t know.
All I know is that, for the rest of the day, the “here and now” ceased to matter. My brain didn’t seem to care that Sarah Moon was an aspiring writer trying to establish a solid reputation. It didn’t seem to care that Sarah Moon was a senior in an intense college program. It just had her hit publish, put away the books, and curl up into a fetal position for several hours.
This actually happens often, even when I don’t write (in fact, usually writing about these difficult things helps me process these thoughts in more productive and positive ways. I’m not sure why yesterday was so different). Sometimes it lasts a few hours (I seem to be operating on a functioning level now). Sometimes it can last for weeks. And I hate it.
I go to counseling. But it doesn’t seem to be working. It seems that every time I go I get a new stress management chart. And I feel that I’ve done a good job of following every chart. It helps a bit, only…well…
I feel like I’m in a zombie movie. And with stress management, I have the tools to kill off the individual thought zombies as they stagger into my brain. Possibly even in time to epic Queen music!
(Warning: language, zombie violence, and possibly unhealthy amounts of awesomeness)
But everyone knows that eventually the zombies break the windows and climb in by the hoards. That’s where stress management always falls short.
No, when the memories come flooding in, I don’t need stress management. I need a miracle. A deus ex machina. But my brain isn’t really a zombie movie. It exists in reality and no cheap Hollywood tricks can fix this.
The memories are so vivid.
And, as illogical as it may be, these memories inspire a very real and very present fear.
And fear is paralyzing.
I have more to say, but those pesky thought zombies are starting to creep in again. I think I need to put on some Queen and grab some pool sticks. So, if you’ll excuse me…. I’ll probably write more on this topic later. Thanks, readers, for all your support. Hope I haven’t been too negative lately! So, how do you folks deal with thought zombies? And more importantly, how do you folks deal with real zombies?