The Shadow is Cast

I need to like myself?

 

Now damnit, I have worked very hard to like as much of me as I can at any given moment. Do I really dislike parts of me? Yea, sure. Who doesn’t? Is half of it a warped reality? Oh yea, I know that too. Do I like myself 100%, 100% of the time? No. Do I ever expect to? Nope.

 

I like parts of my physical being. There are parts I don’t like, and some of that pulls back into a sense of dysphoria. I am working the best I can around that. Some days are easier than others, but in general I can handle it. It has taken me quite awhile to get where I am, but it really isn’t as bad as it could be. I take the physical a day at a time.

 

I really dislike parts of how my brain works. I hate how it gets caught in loops. I hate how I always overthink everything. I hate how my brain assumes the worst 95% of the time. I hate the flashbacks and regressions. I hate how my brain guilts me into thinking having emotions isn’t okay or that my emotions cannot be real.  I hate how my brain convinces me that I cannot be deserving of attention or affection, though with this case in point I wonder why my brain fixates on that. Can I fix these things by liking myself? From where I’m standing… no.

 

I need the help of others to start working on rewiring my brain. I cannot do this alone. Little by little, with people supporting me I can work on seeing things as they do and not through a lens of trauma.  Sure, I’m going to be carrying the majority of the work on that but I need breathers too. I don’t know what it’s like to like certain parts of me and there isn’t just a magic wand that changes that. How am I supposed to learn that without being able to see how others look at me? How can I work on screwing with my stuck points if I don’t get evidence that is against what they are? Only way to get that evidence is with others, it cannot be done alone.

 

Telling someone they need to just like themselves to me is like telling a person it’s all in their head. How is that supposed to help a damned thing? Why would you tell someone that they just need to like themselves or that they just need to get out of an area and everything will be fine. A geographical cure can work for some people, but not everyone has the resources to do that.

 

And to tell someone who finally is a little more stable because both people have jobs and the one has one they are amazing at, that they are just stuck now. That’s offensive. I have struggled, they have struggled and now we have employment and we enjoy it. I don’t always love my job, but I’m good at it and I’m making a difference. My spouse is amazing at their job and they love it. I have never seen them happier going to work in the morning than I do now.  We are in a little community and honestly with the work both of us are doing, we could make a difference for the better. We could bring some of these people out of the shadows and let the diversity that is hidden shine.

 

To be disappointed that I’m “stuck” now? That’s an opinion of you. I don’t believe I’m stuck. Sure, I wanted to go out and about in the world, but I also have never had the resources to do it. I made do with what I had. Guess what, I made it work with what I have and I’m honestly content about it. I found amazing people to work with, a doctor I don’t hate who I trust, and an amazing man to help me start working on everything in my head.

 

When I went and talked to the person who has now severely screwed up my head, I wasn’t looking for this superhuman person with all these powers. I was looking to talk to someone I trusted. I was looking to remind myself there have been people who have supported me. I wasn’t expecting a lot nor was I expecting that they would be able to even do a lot to ‘help’ me. I needed to just talk with someone I trusted and let the little kid breathe a moment. I thought maybe I would take some of what the old white dude said and apply it. I thought okay, I will go where I trust and feel safe and let the little one exist and maybe he can tell me what he needs.

 

The opposite happened. I am angry. I am bitter and petty. I am so immensely hurt. I hurt more because the little one in me feels rejected and like he was struck. I feel responsible too because I am trying to get to a place where the little one realizes that I’m not here to hurt him, but I went and did something that ended up hurting him and myself. I do not know how I will ever talk with this person again at the moment. I might not. I might suck it all in and cut as much as I can of them from my memory. It won’t be the first time I have done that with a person.

 

I am still feeling immensely empty. I have not had a feeling like this that is so strong I can physically feel it in awhile. I do not want it to turn to the type of bitterness I hold toward other people. I had trusted this person since I was 19 and for me, 8 years is a really, really long time for me to be able to trust someone. I do not want to be turning the hurt I feel now into the level of bitterness that I could turn it into. I am bitter now, yes, but it is more of a general bitterness that goes with the pettiness I’m also feeling.  I do not want it to get to a point where I have a physical/emotional reaction every time I hear their name or see them.

 

My old white dude is going to have his work cut out for him this week. I don’t know if I am going to be ready for it, but I am going to do it. In a year’s time, I have never lied to him nor have I completely avoided things. I don’t plan on starting the next year with him doing that.
A day at a time, just little by little.

Empty.

I have never felt so empty or alone.

 

I was supposed to reach out. I was supposed to make contact with people I trusted who have supported me. Let me have enough time to catch my feet and move move forward in other ways. Let me know I can bounce back.

 

I’m bad at this.

 

Actually, I’m pretty horrific at this.

 

I always have fear of asking for help. It takes a lot out of me to even start thinking I need to ask. Then I build myself up. And, if all goes to plan… I am sometimes able to choke my fear and ask.

 

I am still very bad at this.

 

There are times I will start, but hit the abort button halfway through it.

 

I wish I would have done that.

 

I bit my tongue because I wanted to believe in people. I wanted to believe that on some level I do matter. I wanted to trust.

 

…My fears were confirmed.

 

I’m not a disappointment, but the fact I am here in the area I’m in.. that’s disappointing. I’m also “stuck” now because my spouse has a job they love and one they are loved at. This is apparently a bad thing.

 

I hear words coming out of their mouth and perhaps my brain just stopped listening… or perhaps I did hear what I thought I did and I’m begging inside for it not to be true.

 

I am no longer in X place in my life, so they cannot be of help. Nobody in that section can be of help. I just need to like myself or something. I just need to get better.

 

I trusted them. I respected them. I put a bit of my faith in humanity in them.

 

…I am empty.

 

I thought I had made so much progress in a year’s time. I was starting to unhook some things in my mind. I was not always feeling safe, but I had a better footing.

 

I am not safe now. I am not trusting. I am not okay.

 

The worst part? I can feel the little one inside me crying out… cause he thinks that once again, he is not good enough. He thinks he cannot be loved or cared about. He wanted to see the good. He wanted to feel the warmth of the sun. I think that’s the biggest slap, because he had hope.
…Hope is such a dangerous thing.

Whirlwind of Anger and Emotion

In an odd turn of events, I have my teenage self under control. It is a rare thing that happens. He isn’t normally my good inner self. But here he is, the calmest of the three. My adult is tired, because he’s trying so damned hard to keep everything together and appear to be competent. Then there is my little kid and he is being my troublemaker. I’m not used to him being the issue, so I’m even more at a loss right now. Every time I talk about these three inner folk with my old white dude, I make sure that he doesn’t think I’m crazy. He just looks at me, chuckles, and tells me that I’m perfectly sane.

 

So my little one is a ball of emotions. The only one I can identify is anger, which scares me. I learned very, very young that I needed to not have certain emotions. I learned early on how to hide them or just sort of block them out.  Most children will throw tantrums of a need of theirs isn’t being met and they don’t know what to do other than get angry because they can’t regulate their emotions yet. That wasn’t an option. Getting angry at all wasn’t an option. If I did, things would be worse. It didn’t teach me anything other than I wasn’t allowed certain emotions and nobody would take the time to talk to me.  I would be ignored more than I already was if I didn’t “act right” and yet I was never sure what acting right meant. I adapted to what I thought was wanted… which leads me to where I am now.

 

There are days where I am scared of myself. That has come and gone for years, I know my limits with it. I am not near the line I set for myself eons ago, but the fact I had to remind myself of where that was a bit of an eye opener.  I hadn’t realized how much I had been retreating into my head and turning off different emotions again.

 

I am trying to learn how to help my inner child but he’s building walls and he is hiding. I keep getting flashes of emotion and some memories. I can’t stop them.  They are spanning great lengths of time, but each one is being seen and felt through the child. I had been getting one or two the last couple weeks and those are normal. They just happen and have for ages when I retreat too far in my head. I honestly thought it was normal because it was normal for me. Thanks PTSD. The last couple days have been bad. I haven’t had flashes like this in awhile. I’m going to have to bring it up with the old white dude this week. I hadn’t really mentioned them before, because they just exist and I learned how to deal with them for the most part. I know, the old white dude could help me work with them better but it just seemed insignificant at the moment. It was trivial compared to other things I was dealing with.

 

By seeing even adult memories through the child, I’m losing control of more of my emotions. It’s getting more primal, more out of control. I don’t know what to do with emotions like this, I have no idea at all. I never learned proper ways to deal with emotion, because I was just supposed to not have them. The more I try to move forward, the more boxes that are opening in my head and I can’t handle them. There’s more pain, more hurt, more sadness and loneliness…and after the fact comes anger. Hot, visceral anger. He is angry that nobody noticed, nobody ever seemed to care. He’s angry that he had to hide himself for so long and had to suffer alone in the darkness. There is an anger that he had to leave the land of magic that so many children live in… because that’s where kids exist, before he was ready to. Nobody taught him how to grow or express himself. Instead he was taught to hide, to pretend, to not have feelings, to not cry. Crying was always followed with that phrase, “Knock it off or I will give you something to cry about.” So I didn’t anymore. To the best of my ability, I hid it and caused it to cease to exist. It took me over two years to be able to cry in front of my one college professor who I saw on basically a daily basis. Over two years of stress, pain, and feeling so hopeless at times. You know what I was scared of most when it finally just burst? I was more scared that she would push me away. I knew I couldn’t hold it in anymore, but as I sat there at first I was afraid I had just ruined a relationship that meant a lot to me. So I didn’t know what to do when she did the opposite of that. She listened, she waited, and most of all she was kind. She didn’t think any less of me for releasing all those pent up emotions. I think she was more relieved in some ways that I was finally able to open that door a little bit. I’m afraid I’ve slammed it shut again though.

 

I didn’t understand what I was experiencing when I was little. I did not have anyone to help me understand what I was experiencing. What I did learn was that I was getting the message that I couldn’t be. Literally, I could not be as I was and I had to change to be safe. Kids want to feel safe right? I didn’t know what safe felt like because I constantly policed myself to make sure I was following all the rules I thought I needed to follow.
I am not sure why the little one in me is so angry. I might have theories to talk over with the old white dude when I see him, but I don’t know if any of them can hold water. Since I started writing this particular post a couple days ago, I still don’t have any idea. All I know is that I don’t have control over him and he’s a ball of emotion… with nowhere to put it.