I’m Afraid to Stop

The last couple of weeks being relatively free aside from university prep has meant that I’ve found myself with a lot of time to reflect. I’ve come to many conclusions, but there is one which I’ve found rather shocking. The worst part about it is that it has probably been obvious to those around me for years.

I have a fear of stopping.

I survived my A Levels, just about. I achieved more than I ever dreamed of, but I nearly killed myself in the process. I worked, constantly, for hours and hours each day. At the time, I told myself that I needed to work hard to overcome my difficulties and achieve, but in reality and with hindsight, I see that I was actually stuck in a cycle of dismissing my emotions. I was anxious and stressed, and I felt pressurised to do well. Not only this, but I had to deal with emotions about other situations such as my grandad dying, illness in family and friends, and pleasing my parents. Because I needed to make everyone happy, achieve for my own feelings of self-worth, and get the grades for university, I worked really hard. I didn’t allow myself time to deal with how I felt, and in then, I got progressively more stressed, anxious, and emotional. Worried that these little slips would affect my grades, I worked more and more. The cycle continued. I was afraid that if I were to stop and consider my emotions, even for a second, I would break down, and my chances at A Levels would be ruined. I got quite ill from all that stress.

Now, on a much smaller scale, I find myself repeating the situation. There are emotions spinning around in my head, and thus I’ve not stopped for days. Tonight, I promised myself an early night, but I’m afraid to stop and close my eyes. It’s when I’m left alone with my thoughts that the demons really hit. I’m afraid to stop, to relax, for fear that I might just tip over that edge.

That’s a dangerous place to be.

Living. Laughing. Loving.



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