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.
I’ve been feeling worried, anxious, confused, and overwhelmed for the past few weeks. I thought I’ve been handling it pretty well. Using CBT, REBT and DBT skills to stay afloat.
But today… Today came the final blow. And I need to protect myself and just. stop. feeling. So right now I give myself permission to numb the pain however I can. Today, I get a free pass. And I don’t give a damn if it’s destructive. Today I say fuck CBT. Fuck “healthy” coping skills… Sometimes they just don’t cut it.