This isn’t a typical blog post, more a chance to vent my feelings because today is one of those days where the only thing that feels clear is the fact that nothing is clear. I should be napping, as I learned earlier today that I still have a sinus infection, but sleep is evading me. Partly because it hurts to lie down and partly because my brain feels like it’s no longer in my head.
I’m not sure what it is exactly, but I’ve got this feeling that nothing I do will ever be enough. No matter how hard I try or work at something, I’m in the same boat as always. While I know this isn’t technically true, it’s hard not to get caught up in, “I try and try and still don’t succeed, so why try any longer?”
The simple solution would be to stop giving a fuck. And while I can turn that side of me on easily, I don’t want to. This is an area I want to give a fuck. Which makes things that much more frustrating.
Sometimes I want to shut everything off and stop caring. Then I never have to feel. I don’t have to question myself or wonder about anything. Because nothing matters, as I don’t care anymore.
But I won’t, because that would hurt a lot of people that I don’t want to hurt. Which means that no matter how much I wish things (and yes, I mean many things that cover many topics) didn’t bother me, they do. And I have to deal with that.
There’s a line from The Vampire Diaries where Stephen is being told to shut off his humanity, and I remembered thinking, I do that. I shut off.
I try not to. And being passive (while in most cases is a terrible thing) has kept me from doing that. I have kids now. I can’t just shut off the humanity in me. But that’s not to say I haven’t and can’t. So being passive served me. Not because it kept me from saying the wrong thing to the wrong abusive asshole and being punished (though it did that too), but because it’s kept me from shutting off.
This is not to be confused with shutting down. That happens when I am badly triggered.
Shutting off means I no longer feel. Nothing. I’m empty. And lately I’ve been more tempted by this notion because then I don’t have to feel the pain of my childhood either.
The thing that confuses me is that last night I did feel the pain of my childhood. I allowed myself to… Finally. And I let go of a lot. But then today rather than feel light and amazing, I feel confused and empty.
News from the doctor is impacting far more than it should be. As well as discussions that I can normally tolerate. Simple email responses which should be fucking easy are bogging me down.
D would likely say I need to have self-compassion right now. And I’m trying. But this doesn’t feel good. I feel off inside. Empty, but not from letting out trauma and pain.
Maybe it’s an empty that comes with feeling the pain. Not from missing a part of myself, but from feeling that much in such a short amount of time. I wanted my pain gone, so pushed to feel it all. Pain that took many years to build and I tried to rid myself of it all at once. Mostly because I’m tired of carrying it around.
My choice though might be part of my issue. When I was trapped in all that pain, I shut off. Any time I had a lot of exposure, or saw too much, I shut off. I didn’t think that this many years later, exposure could still take me to this point.
I’ll fight it. I won’t give in. But it’s still a struggle.
The only thing that will help is giving myself time and resting. So that’s what I’ll do.
Photo by Bina Sveda at freeimages.com.