This is the start of something written last night…
I was never a child
I never played
I never laughed
I never talked
I only watched
I only hurt
I only played
I was never a child
I’m finding it increasingly difficult to write, reflect, or do anything artistic… as soon as I try, anxiety hits, and I doubt myself. I think that the main reason for this, is the continued compartmentalisation, and disconnect that I’m experiencing… On the surface, I appear to have everything “together”… yet, I’m struggling with feeling so overwhelmed, that I’m again in the suicidal abyss.
It’s easy to list off the things that are causing me to feel overwhelmed… it’s more difficult to address them. My ability to verbalise anything during therapy is near zero. I’m constantly assaulted with images of graphic self-injury, as I sit in silence… What torture the mind can put you through, never ceases to amaze me. A combination of my worst fears, horror movies, and flashbacks are now a regular Monday morning occurrence…
In theory, I know that the inability to write, speak, and the compartmentalisation, are all symptoms of the overwhelm… but, I’m very aware that I’ve been like this for a long time now. It seems as if my “good moments” are further and further apart. When people ask how I am, the only words I can say are “I’m ok”… I’m not able to say anything that would explain what’s happening in my head. Part of this, is my continued need for invisibility; but a larger part is that nothing I do seems to connect with reality. In so many ways, I seem to only exist in the moment… not in a positive, mindful way; but in a space where I have no sense of anything as being real… I’m just “there”, with no connection to anything. Intellectually, I know this isn’t good… it’s always been a precursor to serious bouts of self-injury… but, I’m at a loss as to how I can ease it.
Allison also seems at a loss as to what will help. Considering how little I’m able to verbalise what’s happening, that’s understandable. Last week, Allison had assumed that I’d put her back in the “useless” basket… but, I know that she can’t work with someone who can’t talk. This is all on me, not anyone else. In case you hadn’t noticed, my self-loathing and intolerance are at new heights… But, I know that unless I can start to communicate, I’m going to continue down this negative path. I need to stop isolating, and reach out… I need to start caring… I need to stop playing the game…
It hasn’t escaped my notice that I’ve reverted back to the dysfunctional behaviours of the past… outwardly appearing fine, and hiding the chaos. The piece I wrote last night was about never being a child because of that disconnect… if I’m not able to make any positive changes soon, I’m not going to have a life because of that same disconnect.