Under Again

I’m so angry, I want to break and destroy things and certain people. My rage has been so intense and I don’t know any other way to release it in a satisfactory way, other than hurting myself.

I haven’t seen my therapist in over two weeks, and won’t be seeing her tomorrow (and probably next week either). She needs a few weeks to acclimate to motherhood and recover from the operation. She couldn’t give me a set date or time. I don’t deal well with uncertainty, but this specific uncertainty was expected. Doesn’t mean it’s not driving me crazy anyway. The fear that I’ll never see or hear from her again doesn’t help matters.

Saw my psychiatrist last week as I needed a new script. So got to talk to him about stuff at least. But I hold back quite a bit from him for some reason. I don’t feel that comfortable being too vulnerable with him.

My uncle went into hospital after a heart problem. The nurse and doctor made a HUGE mistake that might destroy his future, and that I know he won’t want to live that way. If he even comes out of this alive. All because they didn’t listen. And there’s nothing I can do. I’m too far away, and even if I was there, with this Covid shit, they wouldn’t let me see him anyway. They will pay, even if the rest of the family don’t go ahead with the legal stuff. I’ll make sure of that.

There is so much uncertainty in my life right now, and losing my car has just made me feel even less in control over my life. I can’t just get in my car and go for a drive. Something I used to do when I felt upset. I feel trapped. Useless. Helpless. I’m frustrated with myself because I’m struggling with even the most basic things. Nothing is going right.

I want to see my mom and my sisters so badly too. I haven’t seen them in years. It’s just not fair.

I’m also frustrated and fed up with friends and certain other people in my life. I just want to scream! It feels like I’m losing my mind.

Am I Still Me?

I’m not quite sure what I’m dealing with.

For the past 6 days I’m having problems figuring out how I’m truly feeling. I just feel “different”.

I’ll start with last week Thursday, because that’s when it all seemed to begin. After the final skills group for the day I asked D (OT) for a hug (since I’ve gotten quite a few from her when I was still attending group). As a side note, since I was back in the clinic, I can now go to 12 more group sessions on Tuesdays. (I didn’t go tonight- needed a break from the clinic environment). I wasn’t expecting her reply. She told me she wasn’t allowed to (it was a legitimate reason as far as I can recall). In the past I would have felt ashamed and rejected and probably gone off somewhere to cry and nurse my wounds. This time however, while I still felt a tiny bit embarrassed for having asked in the first place, and quite shocked at her reply, I was okay. I was surprised at myself. There were no big emotions. Just tiny little hints of them, barely noticeable. I did, however, feel myself distancing from her emotionally.

Actually, as I mentioned in my previous post, I felt disconnected from everyone and everything since waking up on Thursday, so maybe that was why I wasn’t as upset as I usually would have been?

On Friday I didn’t get to go to any groups, as I had my psych appointments. After my appointments I went to D to let her know that I won’t be in any groups for the day, that I was leaving. And what did I do? I asked her if I could hug her goodbye. This time she did hug me. While it was the same amazing D hug, I didn’t feel connected to her. Now here’s the thing… I don’t really feel connected to anyone anymore. Not even my therapist. And I haven’t reached out to her, which is even more strange. Usually when I feel the connection slipping, I’ll send her a text or email, but not this time.

I also don’t care that my roommates haven’t been in contact. I sent them each a message on Saturday and they both replied with a very brief message and that was it. Usually I would have reached out again by now (I told them I might come visit them as they’ll still be at the clinic until Friday), but I don’t want to.

Elizabeth and I have sent a few text messages back and forth during these past two weeks, but it’s become less frequent. I took two days to respond to one of her messages, and vice versa. And it didn’t bother me when she didn’t reply for those two days. Every now and then I would feel a lot of anger and hurt during the first week after she broke up with me. But most of the time I haven’t really felt much of anything for and about her. It’s as if our relationship didn’t even happen.

I’ve had some moments during the day where I’ve felt pretty good. Not happy. But good. I don’t know what emotions come with that “good” though. I made an appointment to go see my GP today, and she kept telling me how good I look. That I look confident and am carrying myself differently. That she remembers the first few times she saw me… I was this shy, timid little thing. At some point during our conversation we got onto the topic of relationships and I told her that I’m sick and tired of letting people walk all over me. I’m tired of giving others power over me. That I’m taking back my power. Whoever doesn’t like it can remove themselves from my life. I’m not going to take any more shit. That “the bitch has emerged”. I surprised myself by how powerfully those words came from my mouth. I felt strong, determined and in control. Well, she seemed to like this new side of me. Problem is, I don’t know if I like it. Part of me does, part of me doesn’t. Part of me feels like I’m in “self protect” mode. Another part of me wonders whether this new attitude is good or bad.

I don’t feel like me. Not that I really know who “me” is. I just feel weird dammit.

Safe Travels – Part One

On Wednesday I got back from my week-long trip to see my mom and sisters. Annoyingly, I’m still recuperating from it.

I had been looking forward to this trip since it was booked. I was counting down the days. Sometimes even the hours. Last Tuesday, after coming back from group, I started to feel unsettled. “Tomorrow is the day”. I don’t know why I had shifted into that almost panicked mode.

Packing for a vacation always overwhelms me for some reason. That Tuesday, it seemed even worse. I was so anxious, and even emotional. I cried through most of it. What was going on? I had no idea why I was feeling the way I was. In our session on Monday my therapist told me that she’ll let her other clients get away with “I don’t know”, but not me. Apparently I’m insightful. But sometimes I really don’t know. And this was one of those times. Maybe it will come to me at some point. That happens quite often, so maybe I can’t get away with “I don’t know” after all.

I hate airports. I despise them. Even more than I do crowded shopping malls (I try to go during the week when most people are at work). Those are places where I’m most likely to get panic attacks (lasting either from a few minutes to over 20 minutes sometimes). So, in preparation, I took one of my magic anxiety killing pills, and after that, I felt so much better. I had used some mindfulness and breathing exercises before taking it though, hoping that it would be enough. But it wasn’t. I lasted 20 minutes with that. But at least I tried. I got through the whole airport and flying thing pretty smoothly. I used to love flying. But when I got into a relationship with my ex, I started becoming as anxious and paranoid as she was every time we had to step foot on a plane. But this time, and alone, my old love of flying was back! My favourite part is the take off and landing. It’s a bit of an adrenaline rush.

On my way from the airport to my mom’s place, I had to go pick up my youngest half-sister, who lives quite a while away from my mom. She was going to be spending a few days with us. I also popped in to see my eldest younger half-sister, who was at work, so I couldn’t spend much time with her. To me they’re just my sisters (there’s no half in there for me). By the time I got to my mom’s place, I was exhausted. As I walked through the door, my mom was busy with something. She looked up and saw me, and her eyes just lit up. She also seemed to do a double take, not sure whether I was real. I hugged her tighter than I ever had before. She looked so happy!

Throughout my stay there, I slept on a small blow up mattress, and my youngest sister slept on the couch. Sleeping in the same room with any one of my sisters is a crazy experience. My mom’s place only has one bedroom, so we slept in the lounge. I didn’t get much sleep while I was there. I struggle to sleep in a new environment, and add to that a young sister who doesn’t get the value of sleep. I’m a very light sleeper. After having her try to keep me awake as long as possible, I would finally go to sleep. But she’s so noisy, and every time she moved, the couch creaked way too loud, in my opinion. The curtains also couldn’t close, so it was too bright in there with all the street lights. Not a very good environment for inducing sleep. But I survived. Like I mentioned in a previous blog post, I like waking up to peace and quiet in the mornings, while I drink my coffee. There was no chance of that happening here. Imagine being semi-asleep and having your mom and sister yelling at one another before you can even get your eyes open. Those two can’t be together for more than a day, or they’re at each other’s throats. They know exactly how to push one another’s buttons. Now here I was, stuck with this for four days. Burying my head under the pillow never sounded (and felt) so good.

A lot happened during the time with my mom. The unfortunate thing is that I barely got one moment alone with her. Both my mom and sister vying for my attention. I didn’t know which way to go. Which way is up? It was exhausting. My mom’s 23-year-old boyfriend (I called him daddy, that had him laughing for a while), was there in the evenings and the weekend, so we were never entirely alone. The only uninterrupted time my mom and I had was an hour before I went to bed on my last night there. I had taken my youngest sister home by that time. I adore my sisters, but the youngest one is a handful! We had our own “salon day” at my mom’s place though. She coloured and styled my hair, and we even played around with make-up. That was a nice bonding experience.

It was a busy week. Driving back and forth to go see my eldest younger sister, and a bunch of other outings that made me so sick of driving. But I don’t see my family every day, and it was nice to be able to do those things for, and with, them, so it was worth it. I struggled a lot that week with disconnection though. I “felt” numb quite often.

On the Saturday evening, we went out for dinner with my aunt (my mother’s sister) and uncle. He’s Greek, she’s Portuguese. They’re constantly fighting, and it’s fascinating (and extremely funny) listening to them, as they switch between English and each of their languages! It makes my head spin just thinking about it. It’s always fun spending time with them though. Oh, and they took me to a bookstore, and bought me two new books! I’m obsessed with books. I got “Into the Heart of Mindfulness” and “The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion”. The first one was recommended to me by my former OT, so when I saw it I just knew I had to get it.

My mom was emotional and cried a lot during my stay. Sometimes over small things (sound familiar?). As far as I can remember, I’ve only seen her cry twice in my life. And now suddenly it’s almost a daily thing. Apparently it’s been like this for months already, so I’m worried about her. I wanted to hug or hold her during those times, but it’s like there’s an invisible wall between us, and I can’t get myself to do that. The most I could do was put my hand on her shoulder or back for a few seconds, and even that felt awkward. I can’t remember her ever holding me either. Of course hugging her hello and goodbye is easy. But other than those times, that’s not the case. It’s still a great source of sadness for me. I don’t know why it’s so hard with her, when I find it so easy to be that shoulder when someone else needs it, including my sisters.

I still have more to write about this trip, but I’ll rather split it up into two parts. I don’t want to write anymore tonight. Writing has been hard for me lately. Wanting to write, but not able to start. An internal battle of sorts. But now it seems like I’ve broken through that wall.