Well, the comfort I was receiving from the hot water bottle was wonderful. Except, it was short-lived. Through no fault of its own though! That hot water bottle was / STILL IS an incredible tool in my Skills Box.
A lot has happened lately. Maybe a slight percentage has been a genuine response to trauma and/or illness, and not something I had complete control over …. but when you choose to do something, YOU are the reason it happens. So whatever happens is your fault, isn’t it?
I’ve put my body through absolute torture these past 2 weeks and its going to take a while to settle from it all. Unless you deal with it on your own personal level, absolutely no one will ever comprehend what its like to live with a brain that wants me dead.
I can’t help but feel a little jealous … I’m actually more than a little jealous, but I digress … of the ppl I hear and read about who also deal with depression, PTSD, eating disorders, BPD, dissociation, and so on who have found ways to still live productive lives and can maintain a level of stability that is acceptable in other ppl’s eyes. I’ve been dealing with this stuff for several decades … and I have yet to discover what ‘stable’ looks and feels like.
I don’t get angry very often but right now I feel absolutely PISSED – at everyone and everything. All I want is to be able to eat, drink, sleep, and socialize with other ppl the way other stable, functional human beings do every single day. It really isn’t that much to ask, is it?
I want to live … and experience things outside of survival. That’s all I want. I’ve totally got the survival part figured out. Now, I just want to live.
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.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of safety. It came up in a therapy session a few weeks ago and I’ve come to realize that I don’t know how to recognize what safety ‘feels’ like.
I know that I’m almost always on guard. I don’t know if it’s fear, anxiety, or nervousness, or what it is, that I’m usually feeling but I certainly don’t think it’s safety. It also seems like there are lots of situations where I FEEL like I’m in danger but the facts state otherwise. How does one bridge the gap between real and perceived danger? I am not living in a dangerous environment by any means but it’s like my body thinks I am.
It’s incredibly uncomfortable to be in a state of hyperarousal most of the time. And exhausting. Lately, it seems like I’ve been having an overwhelming amount of trauma surfacing, especially on a somatic level, but I have very little capacity to create any sense of safety in the midst of it. It’s wreaking havoc on so many levels. I wish there any way that I could somehow learn how to feel safe.
I feel so stupid saying that. To admit that I don’t know what ‘safe’ feels like seems so ridiculous and it feels awful.
Her Complex Musings 
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