How is that my “best me” seems to come out only when I’m falling apart?
I have panic attacks now, daily. The kind that has you hiding in your closet or breathing in a plastic bag. I haven’t slept a full night in days because nightmares wake me up every hour. I can’t study because my head is so full of noise. I am constantly terrified, and I don’t dare to go to class anymore because I’ve missed so much already and I don’t know what to say to anyone. In short: the exams haven’t even started yet and I’m already tethering on the edge of insanity again.
And somehow, at the same time, I’m seemingly doing all the other stuff right. I help out in the household, I interestedly listen to my family’s stories and problems, I’m cheerful and smiling, I buy the best gifts for birthdays and mother’s day… Just like that. It’s as if I become a better person to my surroundings whenever I’m in a bad place myself, as if I care more for them when I’m sick and unhappy. Isn’t that odd?
Sometimes I wish my life was just that. Without strain, without hallucinations and night terrors and exams, just me being a genuinely nice person to the people I care for. Preparing meals, baking cake, cleaning the place, and getting pats on the head for being friendly and helpful. Oh, and occasionally doing something I really like, such as having great sex, writing fanfiction, reading a good book, watching a nice movie, or working on a cosplay. A life of ease.
The thing is… once the pressure is gone, so is the “nice me”. I’m a selfish bitch whenever I have time and space for myself, and I won’t give a damn about my family’s happiness and well-being anymore once I’m free of stress. I know this, because I’ve been there before. It appears to me that I’m only capable of kindness towards others when I’m unable to be kind to myself…