You know what I want for Christmas?
Dec. 22nd, 2003 09:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
camwynI want a switch for a runaway brain. Despite everything, my brain just keeps going over everything that happened yesterday, everything that got said, everything that didn't get said. It keeps coming up with things I want to say but wouldn't, things I want to say but can't, things I want to say in the way that a pet with its paw caught in the couch wants to bite the first person to come along... and unless I stop whatever else I'm doing and concentrate on it, I can't make it stop.
I know that compulsive thinking about something that hurts is a bad thing, and I suspect that the compulsive elaboration on these thoughts is part of the same mechanism that enables me to come up with detailed writing, characters, plots, etc.- my brain gets hold of something and plays with it. It just... doesn't know when not to, and when something like this happens I latch onto my two asinine mistakes and onto my mother's response, and can't let go. And that pushes me into depression, which at this time of year is really not a good thing given that the axial tilt of the planet was already canting me in that direction.
I'm not looking forward to Christmas if I've got this kind of crap going on in my skull when I get there. All I want is a switch that lets me turn it off now and again, for a little while. Just long enough to get some relief. Or something written. Something decent, and distracting. And nothing to do with the thought that I had been so happy and having so much fun up until Sunday that of course this had to happen, that I sabotaged myself somehow... aaargh! Goddamned brain!
I know that compulsive thinking about something that hurts is a bad thing, and I suspect that the compulsive elaboration on these thoughts is part of the same mechanism that enables me to come up with detailed writing, characters, plots, etc.- my brain gets hold of something and plays with it. It just... doesn't know when not to, and when something like this happens I latch onto my two asinine mistakes and onto my mother's response, and can't let go. And that pushes me into depression, which at this time of year is really not a good thing given that the axial tilt of the planet was already canting me in that direction.
I'm not looking forward to Christmas if I've got this kind of crap going on in my skull when I get there. All I want is a switch that lets me turn it off now and again, for a little while. Just long enough to get some relief. Or something written. Something decent, and distracting. And nothing to do with the thought that I had been so happy and having so much fun up until Sunday that of course this had to happen, that I sabotaged myself somehow... aaargh! Goddamned brain!
