Next stop crazy town

Yesterday was rough. I often get these waves of darkness that completely consume me. I call them crazy train...well actually a friend dubbed them crazy train. They have died down over the last year or so. Now they only last about an hour or two (followed by some recovery time). They used to knock me out for a full day or even longer. All I can do is curl up and close my eyes. Sometimes I'll sob and cry that really hard cry that gives you a headache, blotchy face, and puffy eyes for 2 days. I find it incredibly ironic that the "happiest time of year" brought out such dread and darkness in me.

This is a text message that I sent to my best friend describing how it feels: me-...Sorry I just wanted to make a connection with somebody. her-:( :( :( whats going on in ur head today? me-A lot of scary stuff. Its like some evil being is right inside of me covering me with a dark heavy blanket and I literally feel like I will never be happy again, like I won't make it. Its like a weight is sitting on me reminding me of how terrible I am. It whispers so many things to me like "you are so disgusting, how could anyone give a shit about you, you are pathetic, you are so unlovable, you are such a worthless filthy little girl." and I'm defenseless against it.

When these crazy train moments occur, I usually send out apology text messages to my closest friends. I apologize for things like-being an idiot, being an embarrassment, for being a failure as a friend, for making them put up with me, and even for being a burden in that moment when they are talking to me. Sometimes I really wonder why or how they put up with me. I truly believe in those moments that I need to apologize to them, in a desperate attempt not to lose them but most likely pushing them away all at the same time. Once I went so far as to say goodbye and apologize for wasting their time being my friend. I am blessed to have them though. I have never met better people. I am honored that they do "put up with me" and every time I go crazy they listen, sympathize, offer help, and then tell me shut the hell up.

I never like to verbalize what actually goes on in my head. More times than not I censor and leave the "bad stuff" out. I'm ashamed of them. But maybe I should start trying to manage them a little bit better. This is a perfect example of how my "healing journey" has been. I've been looking at it all from over my shoulder, backwards. Maybe soon I can slowly start to turn around, face it head on, and stare it directly in the eye.
~SS

Burdens

I don't know why I do this, well I don't know why I do a lot of things but that's not the point. I don't know why I look at this as something I'll "get over" or something that will go away eventually like a cold or the flu. I find myself wondering when I can go on with life, not have to deal with ____ or think about ____ or experience this or that. I'm waiting for some magical day when I wake up and it's all over, it's all gone and is only a piece of my history. How silly of me to hope and dream that I can live a normal life free of worries, haunting dreams, shaking, and doubts. How foolish of me to forget that this doesn't go away. I have to live with this forever.
"The familiar sting wells in my eyes and my heart sinks deep in my chest. Darkness takes over and I imagine my good-byes. Nothing can stop it; tonight there will be no rest. Images flash, too gruesome to share...such a heavy burden to bear." -Me

Holding on to what hurts

It's like everyone is given a crystal figurine when they're born. A symbol or shape that only has meaning to them. It is uniquely theirs. As infants, when we are protected, it is sheltered for us as we are cradled, rocked, and cared for. As we grow we're told to be mindful and take great care of our special gift. If anything might happen to it, though, at least we have people who can try to help manage the burden of keeping it safe. Helping if it gets scratched, teaching us how to care for it, and keeping it clean and protected. As we get older it is put in our possession and we become completely responsible for its protection. We're told we only get one and we'd better be careful. With courage and confidence, we take what we have learned and carefully venture out into the world to practice all that we have been taught. Filled with wonder and hope, we trust that we have the tools to keep ourselves safe, while knowing that we will always have love and support behind us when needed. But that's how it should be...unfortunately for me, my crystal was scratched, dropped, damaged and left unprotected-yet I was given all of the same messages of caution to protect my one and only gift. So fearfully, I picked up every broken piece and shard I could find in hopes of just keeping them all together. It might not have been whole anymore but at least I had all of the pieces. I was too young to even know that they could be broken, let alone what to do with the pieces. I just clung to them, no matter how sharp, because I knew it was my responsibility, it was my fault I was broken. I should have been more careful. I tried to mend it so many times but I would just cut myself. As time went by I would drop some of the pieces that I couldn't hold onto any longer. There were other things to focus on; to hold. Temporary relief. Distractions. But they would only cause me to lose track of what I had left. Once I realized there were very few pieces remaining, I tried to go back and find them. Some little ones were recovered but mostly the pieces were too damaged or too hard to find, so I just left them. Every now and then I would examine what was left. Embarrassingly, all I had were unrecognizable shards stained with blood, sweat, and tears that I used to hold so tightly to them. Now I am desperately clinging to what shattered pieces I have left because it's all that I have. Fragments of what used to be, miniature reminders of what should have been whole, what should have been complete and beautiful. I was responsible for protecting my gift and this is all I have left. I can never let go of the only pieces that remain -even though it hurts and I am badly scarred from them, I simply cannot let go...

 "The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen." -Elizabeth Kubler Ross

My Kryptonite...my achilles heel.

You know what really grinds my gears?

Not trusting my instincts. I would sooner declare myself a horrible, stupid, miserable bitch than trust that the situation I'm in is no bueno, or the person I'm talking to is actually an asshole. I'll think to myself, "Alright, this guy's a condescending prick" or "I don't like the way he said that to me" and I'll feel GUILTY for thinking that and change it to take the blame myself like,  "Oh my god, (my name), you are a complete bitch" or "seriously, (my name)?, get over yourself!" It makes me want to scream!  It happens everywhere. At work-I'll have a gut instinct about something and I'll ignore it, or not follow up on it, just to find out later that I WAS DEAD ON!! Like literally, exactly right. It's not like I'm in bad situations all the time-this is mostly in reference to my work, the people I date or the people my friends date, etc. Sometimes it will even lead to self-abuse. I don't know if it's a recreation or a reliving of "punishments" and experiences of when I was a child, or what. But I'll berate myself. I used to do a lot of self-harm (although I didn't consider it to be self-harm bc it wasn't the typical method). Now that I know what I'm doing I try to control it, but it's still like a natural response to my "stupidity", my mistakes. I'll even bring up past mistakes and punish myself again for it. Things that happened years ago, a decade ago even....it doesn't matter. I hate it. It's amazing, really, the number of thoughts I have. It's funny because I really don't think the average person could  handle it. I will go through this multiple times a day and still work a full day, handle other people's "stuff" and text my friends, email colleagues, drive where I need to go, have meetings, and everything else. Is this how it's meant to be for me? Like is this just the hand I was dealt? Is this something that I just have to live with? Or can it stop? Is it possible to change? Am I the only one with this shit or is this common for "survivors"?


I'm not even sure how to do this...consistently anyway.

 

How are people "kind to themselves" as a way of life? I can go like a day, maybe, or for a short amount of time. When it comes to myself, my natural reaction is to be hurtful. When it comes to other people, my instinct is to doubt, because of the way I think of myself. And I just have to laugh, because nobody really knows! 

This is how it feels

Sometimes lyrics are the only perfect way to capture my emotion. I can't verbalize it, I can't draw it, I can't write it....but this is how it feels. 

All those feelings you have inside of you. All those feelings you’ve hidden, don't keep them bottled up, ignored. Let them out. Set them free. Face them. Sit with them and sort them out. Don’t be ashamed or scared of how you feel. Figure out why, and decide what you’ll do with them. Feel. Feel everything.

 

~SS

Feisty...

 Today I would just like to vent.... ARGH!!!! Some people are so blind and it drives me absolutely insane. I think I'm a little on edge because the past few days I have been having nightmares again. I get really agitated when I have these dreams. They freak me out and I wake up in a panic and it takes several hours to truly calm down. But that's enough of that...what I'm really irritated with is this guy I'm sort of dating. He seems like a nice dude and I'm not picking up on any pressuring behaviors or anything like that...he has asked me two or three times "the story about my family" but I am not there yet, man. I don't trust ANYBODY with that information, and you just never know how it will be received. Anyway...I'm annoyed because he will say things in a "sweet" tone but I automatically think he's condescending and ignorant.  Example: I worked three jobs while I was interning so I could support myself....he said "Oh, are you a bit of a work-a-holic?" Noo....internships in my profession don't pay and I had "bills to pay and a mouth to feed, ain't nothing in this world is free" ...and I like to keep busy to avoid flashbacks, triggers, and nightmares (exhaustion was the only way I could sleep)...ain't no rest for the wicked. And then he "sympathizes" with me saying "Wow. I didn't realize that. that would've been rough as a student. i used to complain about my internship only paying $19/hour. Lol." and Yes. That was very nice, and I agree that he was trying to relate, but it made me MAD! I had to stop talking to him so I wouldn't overreact. Now looking back...not a big deal. I'm glad I didn't say anything I was thinking. I was all ready to get on my "hard work ethic" soap box and start a big sob story about working my ass off so I can remain financially independent from my abusers. But it's not the time. Sigh. Sexual, emotional, and financial abuse really does a number on sur-vi-vors...(I still have a hard time with that word). 

 Now I'm not sure this is right way to start thinking about people....but I don't want to have this fantasy of someone saving me and listening to my past and telling me that nobody will ever hurt me again... I don't want to bank on that happening. It's not likely. But maybe if I raise my expectations of myself I can set an example. ?? I don't know...maybe not. We'll see where the wind blows......

~SS

Inspiration

And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
 

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while DARING GREATLY so that his place shall never be with those timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.