Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Once again, the ticking time bomb is back.
It is like it is a haunting ghost that simply can’t get enough of me. It comes back to continue the haunting. Nothing works to get rid of it, it is always there.
This time, it is there for all the normal reasons as before, anxiety, and more.
It is also there waiting for the explosion. Every mistake is against me, and waiting to blow up in my face.
It quite literally is a bomb.
I notice it in my house, at school, in the car, at dance practice. Everywhere it follows me. The second I think it has been deactivated, there it is again, with it’s ticking and waiting.
Sometimes I don’t know if it’s simply in my head and there is no bomb at all. If nothing will ever happen. It then forms into torture, waiting for nothing to ever come or occur.
I remember once in 2nd grade, I thought I got in trouble, but I had done nothing wrong. Because nothing ever happened, it hung over my head, torturing me that one day my teacher would walk in, and I would finally get a punishment, and the bomb would explode.
In other situations, I have done something wrong, but I didn’t know, so when it exploded, I had no prior knowledge or expectations. I was instead completely blind.
Tick.
It created a new situation where I was now, once again, even more anxious about every little situation and movement I made and that one day it would lead to another bomb. I can’t even speak without thinking it will one day blow up in my face. It plays such a major role in my already suffering anxiety that it is omnipotent in my life.
It holds me back. There are so many things that I feel I could easily accomplish, but the tick messes with me. It scares me and is a reminder over my head that something could maybe, possibly, theoretically, happen, whether that be a good thing or a bad thing.
As a result, I am never, ever, truly relaxed, even when I may believe I am.
I will still be filtering every word I say through an internal filter that resides in my brain.
I will do the same with movements, even if it is one step.
And facial expressions.
And actions.
Even something I may write.
That stupid little bomb continues to tick away like an infinite number.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick,
Until one day, at last.
Boom.
And I’ll simply start the cycle again.
