Today was the first day back into my “normal” routine. To be honest, it was tougher than I thought it’d be. There’s a lot of space between hurting and healing, and I’m finding myself floating somewhere in that abyss. There were okay things about today. But there were a lot of not okay things, too.
My heart is full of hurt and anger; hate, even. It’s coloring my vision so that everywhere I look, I see things with a critical eye. A distrustful eye. And in response to these feelings, I’ve found myself building walls again. Walls to keep people out so they cannot hurt me. It’s the only real thing I know to do. I don’t trust. I find that every time I do, I end up getting burned. It’s so much easier to curl up into myself where nobody can know me. Knowledge is power, and I will do everything possible to make sure I am never hurt by it again. My emotional and mental safety depends on it. I’ve learned so much over the last 2 months. Things that explain a LOT about why I am the way I am. And as much as I’m glad to finally have some answers, I don’t really know what to do with the knowledge I’ve gained. After weeks and weeks, I’m still digesting the information. It turns in my head as if it’s on a never ending merry-go-round and I’ve examined it from every angle. But with all that examination, I still don’t know how I’m going to move forward with it. I have no choice, I know that. Because life marches on. But I have to figure out a way for it to not trod all over me as it goes by. I wish today had been easy. I wish I could have slipped right back into the routine, comfortable in my skin and comfortable with those around me. But wishes don’t always come true. The work was easy enough, that’s not what has me tied in knots. It was the environment, the sounds, smells, voices around me. It was like I was looking at all of it while removed from my body. Disassociation, this is called (there’s a little tidbit I learned in therapy recently). It sucks. Everything just sucks. For the first time in a while, tears have found me. I’ve cried, heart feeling as though it’s splitting into pieces, and as hard as I’m trying to hold it together, there’s a part of me that knows it will be a long, tough road to do it. I’m tired just writing that. Life shouldn’t take this much energy to just get by. Should it? The good news is I don’t have thoughts of self-harm anymore. No, I’ve learned that’s not the answer. But even though I’m not suicidal, I do still want to just lay down and let the world drift on by around me while I hide within my shell…with no expectations for me to participate in it. I’m too tired to play the game, too tired to smile and pretend everything’s all better. I’m just too tired.
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I've been asked countless times over the years why I feel the need to be perfect. And I’ve never been able to really provide an answer. The other day, though, I was scanning through a book my friend is reading, and the following sentence jumped out at me. Holy shit, it was like everything just clicked into place.
“It’s not that she wants people to think she’s awesome; it’s just that she’s afraid if she isn’t, they won’t think of her at all.” Boom. My life. My thinking. All wrapped up and tied in a neat little bow for me to read and literally say “OMG, that’s it.” My childhood saw a lot of…emptiness. Loneliness. Although some of that can be attributed to being an only child, it’s deeper than that. I’m digging through it in my therapy class, but I can tell it’s going to be a long road in finding all the answers, and more importantly, finding my way to the true woman I want to be. I look back on the little girl I was, and my heart aches for her. She hurt….a lot. She felt unseen. And I guess that’s why she tried so damn hard all the time to be the best, to make the best grades, to get into a good college. It’s harder to ignore someone who’s doing all that. Did you know my two earliest childhood memories are traumatic? Ones that made me feel not safe at all. The first is being carried out of our house as it was burning, and then watching from our neighbor’s window as the firemen fought it. The second is being taught a lesson during potty training. Both memories make me cringe to this day. I can also remember several random phobias I had at different stages of growing up. I went through a phase where I was terrified of being in a car going over railroad tracks. Another when I was scared of riding in the car while it was raining. And another when I was convinced I’d be kidnapped from my front yard, and I would barely go farther than the porch. Each time a car drove down our street, I was flying to the front door, ready to dash inside in an instant. It makes me sad that I spent a lot of my childhood afraid. And here I am, in my adulthood, still afraid. It’s different fears now, but the feeling is still the same. During the first week of class, I spoke about the fire that burned our house, and my group therapist looked at me and said “did you ever consider you may have PTSD?” The sheer relief I felt when she said that was overwhelming. To have a reason that I can point to that may be at the root of what I’ve dealt with mentally and emotionally? It may not fix anything, but there’s power in knowing why I am as screwed up as I am…at least partially. The last 6 weeks have been huge for me. I started the program completely lost and severely depressed. Today, I’m much better. My meds have been tweaked, which has helped quite a bit. But in addition to that, I’m finding myself. The gaps of my past are slowly being filled in. I’ve learned not to immediately apologize for anything and everything, to slow down and be present in each moment, and to ask for help when I need it. I’ve learned that it’s okay to flawed, and I’m starting to fully embrace those flaws. They count as one of the many reasons I should like myself because they make me unique. I look at little Alison, the woman she currently is, and the one she’s becoming. To all of them I say this: You are valuable, you are worthwhile, you are good enough. I’ve been doing a lot of processing in my Group Therapy class, and I can tell something is working because I’ve unleashed so much emotion the past couple of weeks. I’m finally allowing myself to feel the anger I’ve had bottled up inside for years and even some that is recent. Oh, how I’m pissed, and I’m not hiding it, nor am I apologizing for it, because it is righteous anger. Today, was an extremely hard day. I don’t want to give the impression by saying that… that it has been a hard day… that I’m not doing any better, because that’s not true at all. I am SO MUCH better. I spoke yesterday in class that I feel like I’m actually seeing the world clearly for the first time in my life. I feel lighter, freer, and a huge part – HUGE PART – is facing the past and present directly and having my say in it, regardless of what anyone else may think. My corner of the world has been getting the unfiltered Alison, and I didn’t know how trapped and smothered I felt trying to please everyone else around me until I stopped doing it. It was soul sucking. So, yes, things are much better, and even though today has been a difficult one – one that saw me ugly crying, and have a near anxiety attack, and speak through clenched teeth things I want to someday hopefully say outside those four walls – it was still one more healing day on this journey I’m taking.
I can tell just by writing this that I’m improving. Three months ago, had I had a day like today, my perspective of it would have been doom and gloom. I would have been in “the pit” thinking that I had another impossible climb ahead of me to get to feeling anything similar to hope. That was irrational thinking, and I couldn’t help it at the time because I hadn’t had the right medication combination, nor had I received the right kind of therapy. But now I have been blessed with both of these things, and it’s almost like magic. I know that I’m feeling this ugliness inside right now, but I also know that it will pass, tomorrow will be a new day, and I will start fresh. I choose it. And, basically, that’s all anything and everything boils down to. Choice. We each have within ourselves the ability to choose how we will react, respond, and move forward. We don’t always get a choice what hand we are dealt, but we absolutely have the choice of what we do with it. I personally choose to look at the past for what it was, and move forward with the future in a positive and different way. There is huge power in that. For as much of a control freak as I was, I felt powerless for a very long time. I’m taking my power back. |
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