They say I’m strong, they see me smile, “A beacon of grace,” they said for a while. They nod, they cheer, “You’re doing so well,” But inside, I’m trapped in my own private hell.
The world keeps spinning, I play my part, But grief carves scars deep in my heart. My laughter sounds hollow, my words feel fake, Each breath I take in is a chore to make.
They see the mask I’ve carefully drawn, A veil of strength to greet the dawn. But behind the facade, the truth resides, There’s a storm of sorrow I cannot hide.
The nights are lonely, my tears run free, I speak to shadows no one can see. My whispers are silent, filled with words I can’t say, Its a weight I carry every single day.
I wish they knew, I wish they’d see, This pain that’s silently drowning me. To share my truth, though, it feels far too stark, So I’ll just wear my mask and sit in the dark.
Strong, they call me, but thats definitely not true, I’m just surviving, like all people do. One day, perhaps, the mask will fade, if I could just find peace in the life that’s remade.
I ventured outside today. Not because I wanted to though. The last thing I wanted to do was put a coat and boots on to go walk around in the snow. I went out because I needed to. I’ve barely moved from the couch in 3 days. This year is not off to a good start.
First, we had the first-ever earthquake here in Central Newfoundland. Very minor. But there has never been an earthquake here. Then we had a major 3-day storm. Our driveway was washed out and our roof had some damage. Thankfully it was minor. Then I ended up spending 9 hours in the ER, for dehydration.
Through all of that, I’ve been struggling just to keep breathing. CPTSD has been kicking my ass. Between the paralyzing panic attacks, nightmares, disordered eating (restricting, binging, purging), chronic pain, and insomnia every breath I take requires effort. Putting in effort takes energy, and energy is something I have very little of. Or maybe it’s just a lack of drive or willpower. Either way, I don’t have much of anything right now.
But today I managed to tap into something inside of me that gave me a little boost. I was wiping away tears as I was putting my boots on. The dogs were so excited to have mom play ball with them. They’ve really been feeling the effects of what I’m going through and that has created such a massive amount of guilt for me. I try and tell myself that I really am doing the best that I can right now but it feels so fake.
The fresh air was amazing though. The sound of the waves along the shore was incredibly comforting. I miss walking there with the dogs. Another reason I dislike winter so much. When I get cold it triggers my CRPS and sometimes I’m in pain for several days after. It’s frustrating. Especially when more than half of the year is cold here in Newfoundland. So outdoor activity is quite limited. It’s a big factor in the decline of my mental health once the fall months are upon us.
Today the cool air was welcomed. It wasn’t windy, which made it much more manageable. It was as if by breathing it in I was bringing back a little glimmer of life. It even energized me enough to later vacuum, sweep, and mop through the house.
It was discouraging though to find myself standing in the middle of the room, on 3 separate occasions, completely dissociated, and I had to check my phone to see what time it was. Everything has just been so surreal. Over the last year, 40 years of trauma decided to all come flooding back at once, at times leaving me completely incapacitated. It’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through. I’ve shed more tears these past few months than I have my entire life.
So yeah. It’s been tough. But I guess surviving all of this is a testament to my strength? Maybe. I dunno. But I do know that growth doesn’t always look like success. Sometimes growth involves holding on when everything just feels so damn heavy. At least for me, it does.
Those words were shared in an email response that I received from my psychologist last week. It had been a difficult session and afterwards, I spiraled. I emailed her in the midst of my upset and her brief reply ended with those words – Hope strengthens, fear kills.
Yes. I am scared. Terrified – of my own brain. I have no control whatsoever of the way it reacts to things anymore. Its like I’m dealing with a completely separate entity. I’m going about my day as if im babysitting some overly dramatic child that can’t be left alone for 2 minutes or else it’s going to get into something it’s not supposed to.
I got up after a nightmare that night and spiraled into the danger zone. I remembered that Magda (psychologist) had pointed out a couple of wins from the previous week (which I really appreciated) and she said that what I was doing was helping me grow my window of tolerance. In my frustration that night, I was like, “F* my window of tolerance. I’m not doing this”.
I want to be numb. I want to go back to the days when I was void of all emotion. I used to be so frozen inside but it’s like I’m thawing out now. I don’t want my thoughts to be so loud or sounds to be so clear. When my head was heavy and foggy and I barely even remembered conversations I didn’t have to deal with any of this stuff. My brain dissociated for a reason.
I feel like I’m going crazy. The fear is strangling me. Choking me. Killing me …
I’m afraid of what’s going to happen to me. So much fear, that I’m going to just snap, go totally crazy, lose my sanity entirely.
Fear. Its trying to kill me. The fear of uncertainty. Not knowing from one minute to the next what I’m going to think or feel. The fear that I’m not strong enough … that I might find myself completely alone and have to navigate it all by myself – again … that I’m going to collapse under all the pressure … fear that I’m going to start but never be able to stop crying …
Fear kills.
*Video clip of me in the midst of a panic attack*
BUT ….
she also said that hope strengthens. Hope. I need strength. I need hope. I’m not going to find either if I just wait around for it to fall into my lap though. So I must make it my daily goal to seek out hope. I know it exists in more than just the ink on my wrist. I see it around me. I see that other ppl have it. Its just that it never feels like there’s any for me.
If you want something in this world you have to go after it right? Well, I want to be strong. I want hope to fill me and strengthen me.
As soon as I sit up in the morning the attack begins. The team of critics living inside my head open their ugly mouths and just let loose.
“You should go out somewhere today. You should socialize. You need to meet some people and at least pretend to be a participating member of society. You are such a baby! You can’t even handle calling someone and inviting them over for coffee!! You hate being alone … just as much as you like it. You’re impossible to please! Remember how awful the loneliness feels?!! You feel invisible. Forgotten. You’re very existence on this earth is pointless! You crave attention. You long to be part of society.
Yet as bad as it all feels you can’t get out of your own way! Grow up!!! Stop acting so foolish. You panic just thinking about allowing another person to get close to you. Fear paralyzes you when there’s a knock at your door. Ppl tell you to give them a call sometime but your hand trembles even at the thought of picking up the phone. Useless is what you are. You’re just a stupid, fat monster. No one would want to be around you anyway. Ppl are embarrassed to be seen with you. You’re deformed. Ppl stare at your shoulder and wonder why you only have one arm. Your ugliness is impossible to ignore and it’s all ppl see. You turn their stomach!! You stupid b!t@h …”
And on and on it goes.
While this is all true I did not choose this solitary lifestyle. Rather it chose me. I keep my distance from groups of people while often avoiding one-on-one interactions as well. The stress of human interactions has become something I now need to keep at a minimum because it seems as if my ability to tolerate stress and anxiety has dropped extensively.
I cannot withstand stress the way that I used to. All my life I have thrived on adrenaline and often find myself seeking out situations that will provide me with some sort of a rush but these days I find that the rush I get from the stress is a bit too much. I feel myself buckling under the heavy load that I carry around on my shoulders. I do my best and commit myself to things even though sometimes I push beyond my limits. I push and push and push until I break and fall apart.
Today though I am going to accept my limitations. I will not push myself to the point of breaking – physically or emotionally. What I have to offer today is all that I am going to give.
My in-laws are here visiting for a few days. They come 3-4 times a year and stay with us for a few days. And every time I end up falling apart behind closed doors. The pressure to be the perfect daughter-in-law gets me every single time. But I’ve had enough!
They are here in MY home and I refuse to give them the power to destroy my peace and joy. After arriving yesterday evening I prepared lasagna for them. David was at work so I was on my own. That part didn’t bother me because it was only for that evening, and then he’s off for a few days.
But I need to vent here for a minute because I’m just so … exasperated! They made a big deal about missing us and wanting to come and spend some time with us. They dropped their bags on the floor in the kitchen and sat at the table, their attention going to their cell phones. I sat and chatted with them but it would have been more entertaining had I just talked to the wall.
So I busied myself with the meal and clean-up and they got up and left the room. But not before pulling several bottles of alcohol from their bags.
By 8pm both of them were slumped over on the couch, asleep. David got home from work and just shook his head in disbelief. We know that they both have a problem with alcohol. But to drive 4 hours to visit your kids only to drink yourself into a semi-coma state within a few hours of arriving is ridiculous, in my opinion.
But I can’t take this personally anymore. Usually, I would beat up on myself by thinking that I was boring. I’d tell myself that they hate being around me and that I am so fat and ugly that they can’t stand to be in the same room as me. I’d spiral into believing that my house was not good enough. It’s too hot, too cold, not clean enough, my couch isn’t comfy, too much dog fur, the scented candle is too strong, my shower curtain is ugly, it’s too dark, too bright … and on and on and on.
No more. It has to stop! Over the years I’ve allowed my sanity to crumble every time they visit. It usually takes about a week after they’ve left for my nervous system to settle down. And I’m tired of it! This is MY home. It is my safe space and no one should have the power to ruin it for me. They will no longer cause me to become physically ill from the stress.
They are responsible for their behavior and if they decide to come here and be rude and disrespectful then that’s on them. David was looking forward to spending a few days with his mom and step-father. His mom keeps saying how she misses us but now that she’s here she shows no interest whatsoever in our lives. David was telling them something about his job and she literally interrupted him to show him a picture of a garden ornament that her friend had just bought. David looked as if she’d slapped him in the face. It broke my heart.
When we went to bed David and I were talking and agreed we can’t let this get to us. We will not allow this to pull us down. I’m done catering to them and walking on eggshells to avoid doing anything that they don’t like. I’m gonna go about things as I always do. I’m going to sit in my favorite spot. I’m going to have the temperature the way we have it every day. My dogs will play and make noise and I refuse to shush them or take their toys away. I’m not letting them turn my week upside down. I’m not going to stand in my closet to cry and I’m certainly not going to spend today in the bathroom throwing up from the anxiety like I did yesterday. Nope!
I’m not letting my peace be ripped away from me by other ppl. I work too hard to maintain my sanity on a daily basis to let you come into my space and strip it away. You can be you but I will be ME and I’m not going to end up sick from the stress of your presence in my home. Not this time.
Someone asked me if I am happy. Wow. What a loaded question!
I’ve spent most of my life guarded by a self built wall. I had to, in order to protect myself.
Except, while it did keep a lot of things from getting in hurting me any further, it kept everything out – including happiness.
That wall caused me to shut down. I truly thought it was the only way to live. But I was wrong. It’s not the way to live at all. Being isolated and shut down is no life.
I have a lot to give. Not just to others, but to myself as well.
I can’t do that though while surrounded by what, at one time, was my protection. Now, it has become a self-imposed prison.
It’s time to take it down and let myself out. But more importantly, to let something in.
Some days I spend too much time at the computer. Someone’s social media status says they’ve done this or that, or been invited to this, or they’re going to that …
While my world just closes in around me, just a little bit more. It starts suffocating me just a little more, enough to have the air become thicker, making it harder for the oxygen to reach my lungs.
My world has grown incredibly small in the past few years. Much of my socializing takes place from this side of the computer screen.
That’s when I stop, go to the window, and look outside. I see the sun. I open the window and feel the cold wind. I listen to it blowing in across the frozen bay. I remember that everything is so much bigger than me. Life is about so much more than me. And that’s when I hear it …….
“I delight in you”, the voice whispers. “I celebrate your existence. I see you, and I rejoice, because everything I make is good, and my Son has set you free. So live, My daughter!”
This is my father’s world. And He is here, telling me He’s got a plan for my life that I can’t imagine and He’s got stars which He knows all by name and He’s counted all the hairs on my head. He knows me.
Her Complex Musings 
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