After a couple of weeks of intense emotions, I’m drained. As if we don’t have enough going on with Covid, South Africa has also been experiencing unrest due to political crap. All the personal stuff I’m dealing with has also been overwhelming.
But numbness set in when I woke up yesterday.
I can usually reach this state voluntarily by drinking. But since alcohol has been banned in this country again weeks ago, I’m grateful that my mind/brain has stepped in to take over that job.
So now I’m just going through the motions. Doing what needs to be done. Except with regards to my eating habits. Food has been an issue for a month now. I just don’t want to do it… too much of a mission. I have to force myself to eat when I realize I’m starting to feel sick or before having to take my meds, but I don’t enjoy the experience one bit. Meal replacement shakes have helped a lot during this phase. I’ve gone through these phases every now and then over the course of my life, so it’s not unusual.
I can’t control those things that are negatively affecting me. And I’m out of ideas on how to improve certain circumstances I find myself in. There comes a time when you realize that the only thing left to do is to let go. When this sense of not caring anymore sets in.
I know though that it’s not that I don’t care. It’s that I can’t feel it. Void of the emotion that makes us human. Anger and sadness at injustices taking place. Fear. Love. But being alive is hard, so it’s a necessary state sometimes.
Can’t face the world. Want to disappear.
Can’t face those you most want to connect with – wanting to push them away – already feeling as though you have done something wrong in the relationship and that it’s not fixable. Pulling away and disconnecting feels like the only possible thing left to do.
Being in your own body and mind is unbearable. Every part of you is on fire.
Unbelievable pain and torment.
Taking medication early just so you can go to sleep and forget you exist.
The thing with shame is that when you feel it for any specific reason or even for an imagined or blown out of proportion “infraction”, your entire history of shameful feelings and events joins in, pulling you even further down the hole.
There are times where I feel nothing for people. Not even those I “claim” to love. This can last from hours to weeks. Sometimes I wonder whether I really do love after all? Then there are moments where I know I love that person/those people and I feel it, but that feeling can come and go so quickly sometimes.
I’m one of those people who almost never cry at funerals. Instead of thinking I’m at the funeral in order to say goodbye to someone and all of that funeral stuff, I’m dreading going due to the social aspect. It’s not about the person who passed away, it’s about my own social anxiety and unease. The exception was at my grandmother’s funeral, where I was in a dissociative bubble and so disconnected from everyone there that it felt I was alone.
When a public figure dies, for example by suicide, I don’t feel a thing. I don’t get why suddenly everyone is talking about it and seeming to genuinely feel sad about it. Sure, I pretend I care, and it’s hard (and shameful) to admit this, but I actually don’t. This always makes me feel like a hard, cruel person. Or not human at all.
I told my therapist this in our session last week. We were talking about my uncle who recently got diagnosed with cancer. She asked me how I feel. My answer? Nothing. I feel uncomfortable, but not sure exactly what that feeling encompasses. Where once I felt so close to my uncle and knew I love him, suddenly I don’t feel anything toward him. My therapist mentioned something about trauma and PTSD symptoms, but I can’t really remember what all she said… My mind and memory have been cloudy lately. Want to bring this up again in tomorrow’s session.
I saw there’s a new X-Men movie coming out in February, and just watched the trailer. When the first film of this movie franchise came out I was obsessed with it. I’ve watched the first 3 movies at least 40 times each, and the later ones about 10 times or so. Which is why when Jennifer Lawrence was cast in one of them a few years after the first 3 I was ecstatic. The point of bringing this up now is because while watching the trailer I got the same feeling I did all those years ago with the first film. These are my people. I’ve always felt like an outcast and “defective”. I would pretend I was one of those characters. My favourite used to be Phoenix (Jean Grey) and I took on that character. I was Phoenix. These days I still feel like a mutant, an alien on this planet. And this questioning whether I truly love is just one of the reasons for that. This new X-Men film is Jean’s journey on the “dark side”. Maybe I’m closer to that version of her.
Sometimes I feel like I have a lump of coal in place of a heart. That’s how I feel right now.
It still catches me by surprise how quickly my emotions can change from one minute, hour, week, to the next.
When I wrote my last post I was in a pit of despair which had rolled over me while doing some movement and muscle exercises (sensory integration stuff). Everything just suddenly seemed pointless, and didn’t have the strength or energy to stop the spiral leading me down a dark road.
Once I’m in that dark place, most of the time I can’t even summon up the thought that it will be over soon. I forget that our emotions are like waves, they come and go. You know, the stuff we’re taught in DBT. In those moments it feels like it’s never going to end. That this is it. This is life. This is me. This is how it’s always going to be and there’s nothing I can do about it.
When I’m not in that place where suicidal ideation is so strong, then I remember that this too shall pass. Then I can see the waves and am more able to cope with the emotions rising and falling, crashing and calming.
Here’s to riding the waves.
Early morning: Had a nightmare that my girlfriend and I broke up. Woke up with a sigh of relief “whew, it was only a dream.”
A few minutes later: Wait, no, it wasn’t just a dream. A punch in the gut. Overpowering sadness and pain. Physical chest pain also present.
About an hour later: Numb. Dissociated. Thank goodness. Thought that pain was going to kill me. Literally. Can a person die from a broken heart? Like, can you actually get a heart attack from too much emotional pain in one go?
Late morning-afternoon: The truth hits again. I hate her. No, I love her. Dammit! I hate people. The human race sucks. Going to go live in the woods. Overwhelming rage. Panic and fear (can’t remember why). Feeling so stupid. What the hell is wrong with me? Despair: I’m useless. Worthless. Unlovable. They all left. Everyone leaves. Another breakdown. Dissociation again. Forget the next few hours.
Evening: Exhausted. Depressed. Going to take some pills and go to bed super early.
Just threw everything out of my closest. Time for some spring cleaning! Yay! I can take on the world right now, and WIN! I’m so fucking awesome! Riding the glorious wave of hypomania. Feeling so happy, I could burst.
Okay, now back to my cleaning. This room is a beautiful mess right now.