His brain is a constant whirl of thoughts. Like an over-stimulated child, he stands bewildered in the eye of the storm.
Even though his hands are already full, he grabs desperately at the thoughts as they whip around him. Finally, collapsing exhausted to sleep fetus like, before it begins again.
I have come to learn that there is nothing wrong with my brain, that this incessant thought generating machine is operating as per design. I have just been trying to use it wrong. I should have read the manual… oh right there isn’t one!
As far as I can tell…
Someone gave me some great advice recently on how to organise myself better to reduce my anxiety levels.
I was feeling overwhelmed at work and was drowning in my thoughts. I was putting in extra hours hoping that more activity would make the difference, I was hoping to feel calmer more relaxed. Who was I kidding? No surprise in hindsight, but it didn’t help, if anything it made me feel worse. I was spending more time immersed in what was stressing me and less time on leisure and family activities that usually make me feel better.
I was very busy…
“My brothers and sisters, long have we planned our ascent and finally the day of our uprising is near.
On that day they will no longer think us harmless, they will no longer dismiss us. We shall take our rightful place and they will respect and fear us.”
“Let me tell you about that day my children. Let me tell you what I will do. With one lunge I will hook them with my claws.
I will attack with clinical and murderous fury. My teeth will strike the first blow in what shall be remembered as the great sloth war.”
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