1.03.2009
Amateur Therapy Hour
It all comes to the surface eventually, doesn't it? Like the spirit trying to reject a splinter, it pushes it closer to the surface so it's easier to remove.
I can't believe how bringing this up has opened a real can of worms for me...emotionally. It was the toughest shit I have ever been through, and while the repercussions have led to good and beautiful in me, trying to dig the thorn out really hurts. Because there is so much to it...what to say, what to say? It would take a lifetime. Where to begin? At age 8 or 18 or 28? What to tell? What to leave out?
You all are wonderful. Do I tell you that often enough? Simply wonderful.
Sue posted today about not having to answer to anyone...and I really want to be there...I am closer than ever, but I still struggle with worrying that people will hate me and walk away. I guess if that's the case, then you are better off without me.
Anyone still here?
It has been a hard year...any of you who have been around know that. And just when I think it HAS to get better...the breakdown of new things, every day, relationships, lead to hopelessness again. Expectations are an evil thing because they are rarely met...so I am wondering if the key is to learn not to expect much from anyone? A cop out, sure? But a better coping mechanism than addiction? You tell me.
I Facebooked today "What determines happiness?", because it seems extraordinarily elusive for me. Is it something we are born with? Something learned? Something added to us? Something chemical? Or do we all sit around thinking how elusive happiness is for each of us, not knowing that it is as fleeting for everyone else...and that we are no different?
Day to day it seems I am lifeless and feel as though nothing will ever be right in me. I remember being 8 years old and being sure I was just entirely broken...that God messed up when he made me; God saw me and said "Oh shit, this one is going to have a tough go of it"? That feeling has never gone away. I tried to drink it away, tried to eat it away, tried to sex it away, tried to pray it away, tried to give it away, tried to God it away....but nope, still there.
I know I'm not the only one...are we a breed of ingrates? Why are we in so much pain, so dissatisfied? Everyone has trauma and crisis in their lives, why can some of us never recover? Are we addicted to the pain...is it the only way we know how to identify ourselves? Do we fear losing some sense of uniqueness if we become happy?
It is this pain that caused everything bad in my life...the pain I have known since early childhood...but I don't know where it came from. I can't point to some event that caused it...it's like it was always there. Did something happen to me that I don't remember, or am I just way too sensitive, as everyone has told me my entire life? Because I feel as though I have taken every negative emotion...every time I have been laughed at or criticized or stepped on...and shoveled them into a stinking pile of poop in my soul. Maybe some people just know better how to compost?
Granted, living north of 45˚ will probably kill me one day. This time of year is the worst...we are organic and our modern lifestyles do not allow us to hibernate the way we need to in the winter. We have to face the cold and darkness even though nature intends us to reside underground, in the relative safety of the dirt, where no one expects anything of us until the first warm rays fall on us. So we're left to slog through, only half-awake, half-alive.
I look at the meth addicts that are so common here in the NW and think, what a shame, see how their life has been ruined...seen them try and fail to kick it, because it creates a perpetual numbness that only meth will counter. But then I think, how am I different? My drug is legal, but no less destructive. I am 38 and have the health problems of a person much older. I knew all along I was harming myself, but for whatever reason it didn't matter. Because in some sick way it kept the pain at bay, a chain on the dogs.
Or maybe because we are in this inward pain we have to create reasons, legitimate excuses to feel the way we do. It's not acceptable to be in pain for no apparent reason, but if we are made fun of for being fat, or whatever evidence of whatever addiction, then we do have a legitimate excuse for being in pain. Maybe we fear that if we were to do something about the addiction, if we WERE to kick it, then we would still feel just as much like shit but have no excuse for our pain? I think as a child I was hurting and was told to get over it, to stop being dramatic...so I created real reasons to be in pain so they would stop telling me to stop crying.
Sure, we can take medication, but what good is a drug that just numbs it all...reducing our capacity to feel pain while also reducing our capacity to experience pleasure? Seriously, what good does that do? (And I do not stand in judgment by that comment; speaking for myself here.) I would rather experience every fucked up moment of my existence and know I'm alive, and know who I am, even if no one else is OK with that person, and to be able to cry and not feel like everyone wants to fix me, (because crying obviously means there is something really wrong...either in our lives or inside of us, right?) and to be sad and not have people tell me that is the wrong way to be, and the only right way to live is happiness.
I no longer hide behind the pain, and I'm still believing this will lead to something good in my life. Not today, but someday, down the road, I will not have to medicate, if only I am free to feel. Right now, in this moment, I will eat my cookies that are slowly killing me from the pancreas on out, but maybe tomorrow I will eat one less, and feel one more.
So if sorting out the reason for the pain means I can kick the addictions, it's worth it. But does anyone really ever have success with that, or are some of us just going to be in pain no matter what? If not one thing, another?
And fellow pain-bearers...tell me, what is this total disconnect I feel whenever anyone asks how I am? Why am I unable to tell anyone how I am hurting? I feel shame for my pain, is that it? Because still I am unable to answer that question for anyone. And what are these panic attacks? "It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter" my mantra when curled in the corner. That puts the pain at bay again, for awhile.
Yep, I'm broken. But are we really supposed to feel whole?
You might say, "see a shrink, for godssakes". Truly, I would imagine that my collective readership has better credentials for psychoanalysis than thousands of dollars of therapy. And I can't afford it anyhow.
Have at it.
Fallen: Part I
Amateur Therapy Hour
She's Like the Wind
Awakenings
Fallen II: Shit Makes Things Grow
The Saturnine Cycle
Light in the Windows
I can't believe how bringing this up has opened a real can of worms for me...emotionally. It was the toughest shit I have ever been through, and while the repercussions have led to good and beautiful in me, trying to dig the thorn out really hurts. Because there is so much to it...what to say, what to say? It would take a lifetime. Where to begin? At age 8 or 18 or 28? What to tell? What to leave out?
You all are wonderful. Do I tell you that often enough? Simply wonderful.
Sue posted today about not having to answer to anyone...and I really want to be there...I am closer than ever, but I still struggle with worrying that people will hate me and walk away. I guess if that's the case, then you are better off without me.
Anyone still here?
It has been a hard year...any of you who have been around know that. And just when I think it HAS to get better...the breakdown of new things, every day, relationships, lead to hopelessness again. Expectations are an evil thing because they are rarely met...so I am wondering if the key is to learn not to expect much from anyone? A cop out, sure? But a better coping mechanism than addiction? You tell me.
I Facebooked today "What determines happiness?", because it seems extraordinarily elusive for me. Is it something we are born with? Something learned? Something added to us? Something chemical? Or do we all sit around thinking how elusive happiness is for each of us, not knowing that it is as fleeting for everyone else...and that we are no different?
Day to day it seems I am lifeless and feel as though nothing will ever be right in me. I remember being 8 years old and being sure I was just entirely broken...that God messed up when he made me; God saw me and said "Oh shit, this one is going to have a tough go of it"? That feeling has never gone away. I tried to drink it away, tried to eat it away, tried to sex it away, tried to pray it away, tried to give it away, tried to God it away....but nope, still there.
I know I'm not the only one...are we a breed of ingrates? Why are we in so much pain, so dissatisfied? Everyone has trauma and crisis in their lives, why can some of us never recover? Are we addicted to the pain...is it the only way we know how to identify ourselves? Do we fear losing some sense of uniqueness if we become happy?
It is this pain that caused everything bad in my life...the pain I have known since early childhood...but I don't know where it came from. I can't point to some event that caused it...it's like it was always there. Did something happen to me that I don't remember, or am I just way too sensitive, as everyone has told me my entire life? Because I feel as though I have taken every negative emotion...every time I have been laughed at or criticized or stepped on...and shoveled them into a stinking pile of poop in my soul. Maybe some people just know better how to compost?
Granted, living north of 45˚ will probably kill me one day. This time of year is the worst...we are organic and our modern lifestyles do not allow us to hibernate the way we need to in the winter. We have to face the cold and darkness even though nature intends us to reside underground, in the relative safety of the dirt, where no one expects anything of us until the first warm rays fall on us. So we're left to slog through, only half-awake, half-alive.
I look at the meth addicts that are so common here in the NW and think, what a shame, see how their life has been ruined...seen them try and fail to kick it, because it creates a perpetual numbness that only meth will counter. But then I think, how am I different? My drug is legal, but no less destructive. I am 38 and have the health problems of a person much older. I knew all along I was harming myself, but for whatever reason it didn't matter. Because in some sick way it kept the pain at bay, a chain on the dogs.
Or maybe because we are in this inward pain we have to create reasons, legitimate excuses to feel the way we do. It's not acceptable to be in pain for no apparent reason, but if we are made fun of for being fat, or whatever evidence of whatever addiction, then we do have a legitimate excuse for being in pain. Maybe we fear that if we were to do something about the addiction, if we WERE to kick it, then we would still feel just as much like shit but have no excuse for our pain? I think as a child I was hurting and was told to get over it, to stop being dramatic...so I created real reasons to be in pain so they would stop telling me to stop crying.
Sure, we can take medication, but what good is a drug that just numbs it all...reducing our capacity to feel pain while also reducing our capacity to experience pleasure? Seriously, what good does that do? (And I do not stand in judgment by that comment; speaking for myself here.) I would rather experience every fucked up moment of my existence and know I'm alive, and know who I am, even if no one else is OK with that person, and to be able to cry and not feel like everyone wants to fix me, (because crying obviously means there is something really wrong...either in our lives or inside of us, right?) and to be sad and not have people tell me that is the wrong way to be, and the only right way to live is happiness.
I no longer hide behind the pain, and I'm still believing this will lead to something good in my life. Not today, but someday, down the road, I will not have to medicate, if only I am free to feel. Right now, in this moment, I will eat my cookies that are slowly killing me from the pancreas on out, but maybe tomorrow I will eat one less, and feel one more.
So if sorting out the reason for the pain means I can kick the addictions, it's worth it. But does anyone really ever have success with that, or are some of us just going to be in pain no matter what? If not one thing, another?
And fellow pain-bearers...tell me, what is this total disconnect I feel whenever anyone asks how I am? Why am I unable to tell anyone how I am hurting? I feel shame for my pain, is that it? Because still I am unable to answer that question for anyone. And what are these panic attacks? "It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter" my mantra when curled in the corner. That puts the pain at bay again, for awhile.
Yep, I'm broken. But are we really supposed to feel whole?
You might say, "see a shrink, for godssakes". Truly, I would imagine that my collective readership has better credentials for psychoanalysis than thousands of dollars of therapy. And I can't afford it anyhow.
Have at it.
Fallen: Part I
Amateur Therapy Hour
She's Like the Wind
Awakenings
Fallen II: Shit Makes Things Grow
The Saturnine Cycle
Light in the Windows
No comments yet