So, clearly “every day for 30 days” was a stretch. Noted.
So was writing solely for myself.
Today I feel ……. scattered. Overwhelmed. Exhausted. Disconnected.
I also feel on the verge of tears frequently today.
I am trying so hard to be gracious and kind to myself. To be patient. I have a lot to grieve, but I think I still judge it when it surfaces because it’s not ….. ________ (I don’t know what word goes here …..)
When your spouse or partner or parent or child or best friend dies, people understand your grief. At least for a time …..
But when the grief is the result of accumulated, immeasurable, intangible losses, people in general have much less understanding, tolerance and grace. For example, a lost childhood. Waves of this are innumerable and nonlinear, they hit when one LEAST expects them, and they’re hard to even allow (at least for me) because they’re so ….. _______ (again with not knowing the right word …..)
My therapist was noting today that I struggle a lot with time, meaning I feel extraordinarily pressured by it. This is the result of many, many unfortunate events as a child, as well as life in a society that is in chronic rush in every area of our lives.
I do feel pressured by time. I hear all of the ungracious, non-understanding, impatient and judgmental things people in my own life have said and the armchair experts say in comment threads on social media. All of the notions that, collectively, spell WE DO NOT WANT YOUR DISCOMFORT AND SO YOU SHOULD BE OVER THIS.
But I’m not. And trying to force it, while also trying to hide everything inside while doing so, has just brought me here – this place where I think a lot about Not Being Here Anymore, and writing in an anonymous blog to try to help myself through it. (And a reminder, or intro if you didn’t read my initial post: I am not in active danger, I do not have a plan, and I have good support.)
***(two days later)***
It is now Day 7. This time, it wasn’t on purpose. I really thought I’d finish that on Monday. Yesterday, I got my first covid vaccine, and while I did have a lot to write about, I ended up being very busy managing the panic of having to go get it, etc. – among other things. PTSD: The Gift That Keeps On Giving.
Here is what I know today: I fell asleep on the couch last night, and woke up at 12:42am panicking. My heart was racing and I was very nauseated, and a torrent of tears were just behind a screen door. Often, the most helpful thing is to let the tears come; what comes up can move through. But I did not have the bandwidth at that point to manage any of it, so I took something to help me sleep and I turned on the TV to distract myself.
This gets old.
So does not having the control of things the way society and friends and (former) religion and other entities have made me believe I should. Do people not get that NO ONE would like for me to heal and be different more than ME?!
Yesterday, despite having my first dose and being on the way to getting back to normal activities, etc., I did not feel hopeful. That was, in itself, disappointing. There is an older person in my life whose spouse is extremely high risk through no fault of their own (why did we ever start moralizing covid risk???). The person and I are on basically the same vaccine schedule, which means that, in just a few more weeks, I will actually be able to see them in person for the first time in over a year. Not seeing them, in particular, has been the hardest on me, and it’s curious to me that one dose down didn’t make me feel excited that now it’s really only a few weeks until I finally see and hug them. HUG THEM. But I don’t.
It’s survival mode, I know. I’ve been rather shut down. Not going to a place inside that allows hope is a safety mechanism in the brains of people like me – it’s not a choice we make. And after a year of continuous crushing disappointments and delays and cancellations etc, it makes sense that my brain isn’t currently open at all to the hope of seeing and hugging that person soon now. It’s the person I’ve missed being in the physical presence of the most all this time, and it started out as “just for two weeks,” which became three months, then two more, then “who knows when,” then the holiday surge set us back – on and on. I’ll believe it when I see it. I kind of still don’t believe I got my first round yesterday, let alone that soon I will have my second, and will no longer be at risk of hospitalization or death from C19. (Unrelated, this paragraph looks a little like the state of Pennsylvania …..)
Getting my first dose didn’t lessen the ideation. If I’m honest, the trouble I had leaving the house, and taking a new route to public transportation (and taking public transportation for the first time in over a year), and going to a different pharmacy than mine, etc. all added to the overwhelm I’ve been experiencing, as well as the weariness. I think if I could get people to understand one thing about suicide, it’s that it’s not a problem of selfishness or lack of motivation, or the need for a different perspective or _________ (*insert whatever one tells themselves from their armchair about suicide*). It’s a pain problem. Often, it’s a pain + exhaustion/overwhelm problem. For me, it’s not that “I can’t do this anymore.” I know I can. It’s that I am so very worn down from the process of continuing to find courage and battle monsters again all day another day, and I don’t want to anymore.
It’s not that I don’t see the good in my life. I do. Pain, overwhelm, and other things I can’t explain or make sense of to anyone who’s never been in my specific shoes make seeing the good in my life its own source of pain.
It’s also exhausting to constantly “hear” (read) all of the sound bytes on what one needs to do to change their brain or life. Experts promote whatever they’re selling on the backs of those for whom there is not a simple solution or even set of solutions.
*** (three days later….. ) ***
There are probably a thousand ways to read into my delays. Whatever the reason, I struggle with doing this. With finishing posts. With publishing them. I’m not adding more to this today, I’m just hitting “Publish” because I think I need to follow through more than I need a new or finished post …….
Anonymously Open 