Am I going mental again?

As I sit in the living room I hear the small freckled boy bite into his chip and then chew in such a way that I want to rip my ears off.  All the while I am using the same yellow crayon that I have used for two years now as a highlighter.  As I draw it past the ink rubs from the words rub off causing a smudged dull yellow look.  Not the Danilion, joyful yellow it always is.  I stop sharpen my crayon removing any dirt and try again.  Nope still the smudge look.  I fight myself not to throw my Bible and the crayon in the fire.  It's ruined.  Not what it should have been.  And that chewing sound.  He cannot be done with lunch fast enough.

Rage is rising in my soul.  I know his mouth is closed.  I know it's just the way he chews and there is nothing rude about it.  I know it's me.  Just like I don't want to be touched or talked to or have any contact with civilization.  It's me.

After resting the darkness returned to battle me for my mind.

And He said to me, "My grace is sufficent for you, for power is perfected in weakness."

~ 2 Corinthians 12:9a

Do the mundane

I called a friend today, connected only by the sickness our minds share never have we met face to face, only talking when my mind is beginning to spiral out of control.  I called her.  Obviously a sign that the darkness is rolling in.

I talked first to my Strong man days ago fully confident that he saw my addiction, mania, begin taking over my life.  Actually no he hadn't seen it, he loved what he saw assuring me that my mind has never been healthier. 

That touch of his that drove me crazy just a week ago in now to much.  It almost hurts.  The sheets are too rough, the water too hot, my shoes too tight, the lotion too slimy.  It's so much more then touch, smells can send me into annoyance quickly turning to anger.  voices all to loud, the pipes heating our house to much, those two child like voices that follow me around daily demanding more and more.  So many demands, I fight with my tongue to be kind reminding myself that it's just the sickness.  I fight to protect them from the darkness.  I fight to keep the torment to myself not wanting it to overflow onto any of them.

So with this addiction taking over my life I desperately try to gain some control.  If I don't stop it now at some point I will be denied this drug that I so love and hunger for, mania.  Sweet tasting mania where life is perfect.  Nothing can compare to you sweet drug, give me more and more until it is only you that I know...

...No! No, I can't allow myself to be seduced.  I can't give in I must fight this goodness on the edge of torment.  I need to protect my family.

How do I explain this to my Love, how do I keep from disappointing him.  For now I will do the mundane.  I will do those dishes that have been on the counter for days.  I will sweep the floor and I will cuddle with little boys talking about little boy things that I honestly don't give two hoots about.  I will fight to live a life that normal people live and hopefully that will bring me back, at least give me control.