I’ve been waiting for this weekend for a long time. I’m part exhilarated, part terrified. I’ve been wracked with nerves for the last few days – desperately trying to plan every little detail, subconsciously thinking that maybe if I do I won’t feel so out of control, so vulnerable. I know I need to relax, and that the calmer I am the better things will be, but I can’t seem to just let go. I’ve always been very controlling. Sometimes, when I’m nervous, it feels as though I am not really myself, and no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to get back to my regular personality. Someone else takes over – and she makes it easier to cope, but harder to connect. When this happens I have conversations with people in a voice that isn’t my own, using gestures that I don’t really choose. I completely close over, and no matter how long the situation goes on for (hours, days…), I am totally unreachable. Fake. Like a mannequin with someone alive, but silent, hidden inside. It happens without me even thinking about it. It is as if a part of my soul decides that the present moment is not safe, and so it hides somewhere, until I am alone again. I’m going to do whatever I can to find my balance before it all begins on Friday. But I wish I could know for sure what version of myself I will be.
I realise that sentence makes me sound like a psycho.