I don’t know why I don’t write when I am struggling the most. It would help so much to reflect in writing without it actually being a diary where I tend to censor myself. But instead I am just stuck in my mind and because it all seems so chaotic, I don’t think anyone would get it. I mean, I don’t even get it. I have had so much on my mind lately and so many stressors, and so many bad things happening. Writing all that down now wouldn’t make sense. But I think it all led to where I am now – both mentally and physically. And I am just stuck, and sad, and hopeless and helpless.
My mother was here to visit me for three weeks. She is kind of the only connection I still have to many childhood and every time we talked about anything from the past, I got triggered. I also got to know some things about her and her experiences from the stuff we all went through, that were absolutely shocking. Like that my brother is the result of a rape. And hearing those things sort of made me aware of that the memories or ideas that I have had about my past, are actually true. I have been trying to minimize my own trauma a lot throughout the years and any kind of visual memories that I have no emotional connection to, I dismissed. But listening to my mother’s stories, it made me realize how much of it overlaps with the pictures, and with the idea of how my father was as a person. She even validated some of my memories, as in how much he emotionally and verbally abused us. And when I tried to poke a bit if she would think that sexual abuse could have happened, she absolutely seemed to not even question that it could have happened. It all fucked me over a bit. I am still dismissing a lot, it goes in waves, and also has to do with how much I actually remember from my childhood at the time. But in that moment, when she was here, it all overwhelmed me.
It wasn’t only that. We also did a lot of activities and basically were out and about every day for three weeks. I pushed through, I wanted to give her a trip of a lifetime. So once she had gone back home, I crashed and needed two weeks to recover. And then? Boom. Covid. I had all the symptoms in the book and while I got through it eventually, I think it triggered a Chronic Fatigue Syndrome flare-up for me. Mind you, I never was officially diagnosed with CFS but a doctor told me that it is likely and because there isn’t much that can be done, only reminded me of pacing. Whatever. I struggle with terrible fatigue and brain fog. I actually couldn’t go to a concert that I had tickets for tonight. I know that it sounds fucking privileged but there isn’t much in life that brings me joy. Live music does.
I have also had to deal with something different that is quite difficult to explain. Simply put. I have been helping an old friend with a place to stay for the last few years but it is getting more and more frustrating. Things are in my name and she is messing it up by not paying the rent. I don’t have the spoons for this. I need to fix this (cancel a contract with the landlord and cancel the contract with her) but it is too overwhelming. I know I can’t push this away because it could end up costing me a shitload of money that I don’t have. But fuck, I am really not good with dealing with this kind of thing. I wish it would all just go away.
It has been an exceptionally hot summer here. I absolutely hate heat. I hate summer anyway but usually the summers are bearable here. But I guess that is over. So the heat has made my anxiety worse and I think it contributes to my sleeping issues too. I have slept so so badly the few weeks. I often wake up in the middle of the night, just in utter panic. I don’t know what exactly it causing this. I was thinking it might be physical but then, maybe I am having dreams or night terrors I don’t remember. No clue. But me on little sleep while not being in hypomania? Yeah, go figure.
Because I had Covid, I couldn’t see my therapist for while. And then she went on vacation too. It is hard for me to feel a connection with someone and just not having seen her, made it more difficult to kind of feel safe with her again. And we have just had this problem with talking about how I don’t trust her enough to actually do a lot of work. What’s funny is that I never thought about having trust issues. I guess it is because I never had to actually trust someone to make something important work. I came to the conclusion that it is shame that is stopping me – fear of shame, fear of being judged. It really is a huge theme in my life. Dontcha dare judge me for that now.
She suggested a Trauma and DID workbook to get a tiny bit more structure into therapy for now. Apparently, I had told her that I needed more structure and professional approaches. Well, not me, really. But anyway. I started reading the book and I freaked out. Mostly because all the grounding exercises never worked for me. So I decided to write it down in a notebook, reflect why they have never worked and what else I might need. Well, that burnt me out because I hate deep reflecting on my own and now I feel like therapy is never going to work for me because I fail at mindfulness and the 5,4,3,2,1 grounding technique. I only see my therapist for about 75 minutes once a week. So now I got to wait another five days before I can discuss this with her. I am glad I wrote it down though. My brain is always full with so many thoughts, I always end up neglecting what I have wanted to bring up. I’m fun like that.
I feel like a total mess right now. Not even like a breakdown kind of mess. Just you know. I am a mess and this is never going to improve why am I even trying. All I know is that I can’t live like this and I fucking hate that I have a billion things to manage every day while I am just stuck. This fatigue (plus the other physical symptoms) are making me feel really bad mentally right now. I want to be able to do things that make me feel good. And I am constantly trying to figure out what symptom is mental illness and what is physical illness. Because if it is anxiety, or depression, or dissociation, I can push and try. But if it is one of the autoimmune illnesses, then I am supposed to rest, and pace and count my spoons. It doesn’t help that I am always so disconnected from my body. Alienation from the body, a form of depersonalisation. Sounds fancy. And apparently it is not a good thing.
Fragments of Reality 