I have to get up at 6am tomorrow, so it stands to reason that I am starting yet another blog post where I feel I just want to vomit my emotions out into the ether. Vomit, heh. Hello, maladaptive coping mechanisms.
I am so not ok and I am so tired with not being ok. I am in receipt of so much support, so much – I am astounded by the level of it, I do not feel worthy, I feel as though it could disappear at any moment and therefore just the process of having to ask for it and then accept it is like a full-time job (because I haven’t got enough on my plate, right). I don’t DO help, I am my own helper and saboteur all in one and to have people take some of that pressure off me is extraordinary. But it is not enough, because my brain hates me and there is too much history; too much of the bad stuff that makes me who I am is still there and is still controlling everything, overriding the good and creating this whirlwind of stress.
My anxiety is overwhelming at the moment. Yesterday I met with my mentor at uni (FANTASTIC lady, she has already helped me so much) and explained to her about something that was making me anxious so that we could work on it (made a complaint, have a meeting on Friday, have anxiety as big as Brazil surrounding it). In the explanation of that I ended up shaking uncontrollably and feeling shit. And today I am just…I described it as static on a television, just hovering. I reached out – AGAIN – to my therapist who is seemingly tirelessly working with me through all this shit, and she called me and I cried down the phone and said how awful and helpless and lost I was feeling, and fifteen minutes later I was feeling a little better. But. It’s just never-ending, and all this having to reach out for help – which people are giving generously, willingly and without complaint – is pushing so many buttons. It’s a fucking steep learning curve for me. I, until this point in time:
1) denied that I ever had ANY NEEDS EVER, and therefore completely ignored them and didn’t recognise them (my therapist said it reminded her of the Puritans in Blackadder :) to which I replied, “emotionally, right? I’m hardly Amish” and then we both cracked up)
2) never previously asked for help to meet any of the pesky needs that slipped through the Net of Denial, or when I did, got made to feel like a nuisance or that I shouldn’t have them or that they were BAD and WRONG and therefore I was too.
So now, I’m a bit like a kid, who’s never had sugar, in a candy shop. I’m allowed nice things and it’s ok? DOES. NOT. COMPUTE. So now it goes like this: first, I realise I need a need met (BIG – HUGE!), which makes me anxious. Then I think – maybe I can get this met, or at least get help getting it met. So then I think about asking for help, which adds more anxiety. Then I DO IT (perhaps the most crucial step – I never really used to do this), but that creates more anxiety, until the person replies. And invariably, they say yes, but then that adds more anxiety because I feel bad that they are having to spend time on me and feel like maybe I don’t deserve it and that they will realise that themselves and take it away from me. Which is illogical and irrational but this IS illogical and irrational, and that’s why I don’t like it. I am used to intellectualising stuff, it’s a massive defence for me, and now I am just FEELING THINGS AND ARGH GODDAMN. Feeling so much. SO fucking much. I am sick of it.
And in a way I am functioning better than ever, weirdly, or not weirdly. You know, the whole ‘recognising needs’ thing. That’s pretty big. But it comes with so much anxiety attached to it, because this is new to me. Brand new, and I am not coping with that very well. Not only is it alien and weird and I am having to navigate my way around it and negotiate, instead of just not engaging at all, I am also having to deal with the fact that this…this isn’t normal. I mean, it’s not, is it? ‘Normal’ people, well-adjusted people, they can ask for things and not freak out about it, right, and not second-guess themselves and everything and everyone? In that sense I am so far from normal that it’s not funny, I just feel stupid and tiny and cheated. I feel cheated and wronged and angry that I am even in this place of being so pathetically grateful when someone shows me some compassion and helps me, allows me to hold their hand when I reach out for it. How fucked up is that? I am thirty, not three. And then I start to hate myself, because hating myself is at least familiar and easier than the growing realisation that I had a monumentally damaging and shit childhood and adolescence, and early 20s, when I dealt with it all by not dealing with it, numbing myself with drugs and a destructive, mutually abusive relationship. I feel like the only medals I could ever be rewarded (in a weird fantasy world where you get rewarded for LIFE) are ones that show just how much I have fucked up (LOSER OF THE YEAR AWARD, 10 YEARS RUNNING! CONGRATULATIONS!). I feel as though I have nothing to show for my meagre, pitiful existence so far and it is excruciating. I do not want to be here. I want to be anywhere but here.
On Friday I went to see a band I love (Mew, which will be another post, because oh-em-gee), and the music ended up being a catalyst for a wave of grief that was more like a tsunami. I ended up crying on my boyfriend afterwards, and almost all of Saturday, sporting the attractive cried-so-much-I-now-appear-to-have-no-eyes look, that you do when you gulp your way through sobs, bawling for everything that you never had or lost, shedding so much snot and yet being so totally bunged up (what is THAT about?) that you sound like someone flu-ridden.
“You can run away
leave your books behind you
but you should look back twice
just to be on the safe side”
“In a big, big way
I am really small
I get off my feet
But I’m still distant”
YEP. Thank you, Mew. <3
Right. Hot water bottle time. Then placement tomorrow. HOW MUCH do I want a duvet day. PLUS, because my life is SO GREAT, I moved my head earlier and now my neck is killing me. I MOVED MY HEAD. *adds onto the gargantuan My Life is SO UNFAIR list*