I stepped away from the world for a bit… and when I say a bit, I’m talking around 2 and a half years! It wasn’t intentional… it just kind of happened. I’ve kept mostly to myself for so long that going back out into the world was always going to be one big experiment. After leaving long term therapy, you’d hope that things are going to be okay and that being a human would be easier. It is some days and some days it’s not. Therapy didn’t “fix” me, instead, it gave me an opportunity to begin a journey of recovery. I’ve learned to accept that actually, the journey to recovery never really ends; every day we’re learning to cope, every day we’re still falling down and getting back up and every day we are still learning to love ourselves. I think I’m okay with this being a journey.
So. I’m literally just going to start ranting about what’s plaguing my thoughts at the moment:
Funny things, aren’t we? I’m not the best person at communicating with people. Most of time I find it difficult to appropriately express what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling. Sometimes I don’t understand what people are saying and what they mean and I’ve learned to ask people to clarify, but it’s still hard. I’ve always said that being around people causes so much chaos in my head. I thought maybe after therapy that would just magically fix itself but of course, that’s not the case. However, I think I’m half way to learning what the chaos actually is and what it means.
I am currently having a very difficult conversation with a friend of mine. It’s so fucking hard but actually, I’ve ran away from the subject matter for over a decade. Initially I felt like telling them to “fuck off” and run away from it as fast as I could. Cut that person out. Pretend it never happened then beat myself up. However, I’ve been fighting the urge to run and avoid and I’ve decided to write on here before I respond to my friend’s message.
I’m sure you’ve all felt that impulsiveness, right? Someone will say something and then all of a sudden, you’ll feel a million emotions all at once, screaming in your head, twisting your gut… and you don’t even know what any of them are trying to tell you… you just know that you’re going to explode… then, for me, I respond to people with rage. I follow whatever those horrible and negative feelings are and then I act upon them. This usually leaves me without friends or saying some horrible things to people… So, I’m taking a breath and processing the message.
I’ve been trying to process the message for 8 hours (bearing in mind this message is very, very long and detailed) and I don’t even think I’m half way there yet. It’s like I’m some kid that doesn’t understand basic communication! I’ve gone through the message picking out the bits that I don’t understand and then asking my friend what they mean. I’ve learnt that’s it’s okay to ask. I’ve opened my laptop to work on three video edits at once. I’ve barely eaten because I just wanted to throw up every time I thought about food. I’ve wanted a damn drink so, so, so bad. I’ve sat here with my shoes on at 10pm, having an internal argument about whether I should go to the shop and get some alcohol. I rode it out, counting down the minutes to 11pm when the shop closes and now I’m here, sober, listening to music, typing… I guess that’s progress, right?
The feelings haven’t changed but I guess it’s about trying to understand your feelings, acknowledging them and in turn, trying to change your response… Three years ago, it probably would’ve gone like this…
Friend replies to your message. You feel like someone literally just stabbed you in the gut. Panic. You reply, your words dripping with rage. You say things that probably shouldn’t be said in such a way. You hurt them. You probably end up losing that friend. Then you’ll act on the rage and go and do something impulsive, whether that be cutting or going out and getting absolutely fucked. You’d get so drunk that your inhibitions would lower and then you’d attempt to kill yourself. You’d still be alive the next day but you feel numb, you feel that you somehow deserve to suffer, you feel ashamed. It takes you a week to get the alcohol out of your system. Then, you’re stuck in a fucking hole, feeling like the world is closing in and you’re not sure if you’re going to be able to get up again.
It is so easy to give in to this response. It would be oh so easy. It’s taking all my strength not to act this way. The awful feelings and thoughts are still there and I would give anything for them to stop pulling me apart. Man, I could fucking drink. But I won’t. A few hours ago, my mind tried to have my evening planned out for me: I was going to get some alcohol, probably cut myself and then take more of my Quetiapine than I’m prescribed, just so I could pass out and not die. But I couldn’t. I can’t. I have to find a way to deal with this in a healthy manner. I must stay alive for my daughter.
I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much again tonight… I better start typing out a response and it’ll probably take me a few hours.
Whoever’s still on here, I hope you are all doing well.