Ugh, my stomach feels gross. I really wish I had someone to talk to to tease apart everything that was happening that set me off emotionally and caused me to feel sick to my stomach.
(Note: I apologize if anyone has been trying to communicate with me. I have to really to brace myself for the sorts of hurtful responses I might get from people, and I’m not in a place where I’m ready to deal with that.)
It started off because I joined in on a girlfriends Meetup group. It meets online on Zoom. Basically, it’s just a group for girls to get on to meet other girls. They just talk about typical things that a bunch of girls might talk about.
Unfortunately, my life has been so messed up that I can’t relate to these girls. Not ony that, but some of the things that came up seemed to trigger my past trauma. I had all kinds of horrible feelings including feelings of despair and alienation. There was a lot going on, but I don’t want to get into details now because my mind fees like a mess. I fee so scared and alone. One triggering thing was that I got reminded of how bad my survival skills are. Lack of survival skills has been one of the biggest sources of difficulty in my life. I don’t know anything about cars. I somehow never seem to be abe to develop a support system. Those sorts of survival skills are the ones I lack. Another trigger thing is the reminder that other people aren’t as alone as me.
But then I had to face another truth of life. (Background: My family was very dysfunctional and abusive with a high number of personality-disordered individuals.) After some really sick, twised things happened involving my famiy, I was forced to cut ties with them and their posse. My sister-in-law emailed me at some point. I wasn’t sure if she was a trustworthy person or a flying money out to gang up on me with the rest of the posse. I just told her I couldn’t communicate with her and avoided her for several years. For various reasons, I thought I shouldn’t just dump her and should instead try to find out what her agenda realy is. She had been kind to me in some ways and wasn’t obviously trying to start a fight from the beginning like the rest of my family had been. (Although she had acted stange and suspicious in other ways.)
So, I went back and dug up the old email.
It was a long, drawn-out email full of fluff. The first time I read it, my brain fog might have prevented me from realizing that she had just written me a long nonsensical emai In reality, I was probably also in too much of a state of shock at the time to read it clearly. But now that things were settled down, I could see what was really there. I wish I could just share the email here so you could know what I mean. Instead, you’ll have to trust me. Ugh, it made me sick. We, to be fair, I already felt sick due to the Meetup group, but now I just felt worse.
If you haven’t dealt with flying monkeys or fake friends in your life, you might not understand why it was so upsetting to me. I’ll tell you this — I’ve dealt with enough scummy people in my life by now that I can spot the signs when someone is trying to be fake chummy with you or fake friendly because they have a hidden agenda and don’t want to talk straight. Flattery, exclammation marks, confusing and contradictory statements, criticisms disguised as them seeing eye-to-eye with you.
I feel sick.
I guess now I know what kind of person would marry my sick brother and what kind of person he’s into. Honestly, I had some bad feelings about her from before. She gave me bad advice that got me in trouble (She had told me exactly what to write in an email to someone, claiming that’s what she does for a living and that it’s what she tells her clients to do. I believed her so was very surprised by the angry response I got when I emailed it). She gave outlandish and insulting reasons why I couldn’t visit her and my brother while also pretending we were friends. The lie was so absurd that it was just insulting that she expected me to buy it. He mannerisms gave me too much of another female narcissist I’d known — talking to me as if she knew me even though she didn’t know me. She also gave me that look that suggests you’re a freak, although it was subtle and I tried to brush off that it happened.
It answers a lot of questions about my brother. He was playing weird games with me. I won’t go into details now, but I guess we’ll say that I found out that he wasn’t that person I thought he was. When you’ve been naive your whole life and you see the world as it really is for the first time, it’s too much to take in. Who can you trust?
I didn’t know people were like this.
What’s amazing is how little emotion she had about the whole thing. My brother losing me, my parents losing me, me losing my family, none of it was a big deal to her. Her lack of desire to try to help. She had absolutely no compassion. That alone said a lot about her own inability to feel. All she cared about is writing a strange, manipulative email. Some people live for manipulation. Nothing else interests them or has any meaning.
Well, I do feel a little better now. This cold word is still cold. I don’t know if I’ll ever escape the cold. If I knew how to, I would have done it by now. On top of that, my motivation levels are near zero because my life is virtually nonexistant. The only life I have is talking to people who hang out on the street outside on rare occassions. I get a little burst of motivation from that, but that’s about it (I wonder if that’s how loneliness affects others or if it’s just me).
I’m still in shock that my family only now wants me for thrills and has no sentimental feelings towards me. After al, we used to have some innocent times together. We looked like a normal family in ways. I’m not sure if I can ever find a way out of this mental confusion.
I just went brain-dead. I had some good thoughts in my head this morning for what I wanted to write about. Everything was relatively clear in my head. Then I went and ate food and felt drained and unrefreshed. Not sure if it was the physical activity or the food that messed things up. It’s disappointing because I was doing so good, since yesterday, my head was clearer and everything felt better. Now I’ve snapped back into the drained, lethargic state. To be fair, it had started creeping up on me a little before, while I was on the computer. I hate being on the computer!
Side note: I equate happiness with mental clarity. When my head is clear, I feel good and function better. Everything works better and therefore feels better. Easier to know what truly makes you happy and to pursue.
Now I can’t remember what it was I wanted to write about. I remember now. Oh yeah, it was going to be about looking for friends and what sort of life I’d wish for. It’s so much harder to try and fantasize about those things now that I’m in a drained state, though. My enthusiasm for thinking about this has disappeared now!
Wow, I guess I never realized what a difference it made in my writing when I’m feeling good versus feeling bad. When I’m feeling good, I know what I want to write about and have clear purpose and goals in mind When I’m feeling bad, I have to push myself to write and have a hard time even knowing what I’m writing about. My IQ goes way down. I hate being brain dead! Would you rather be rich or have a functional brain? Would you choose love or a functional brain? I’d go with the brain.
Of course my awareness of my emotions, desires, hopes and goals has faded. Note: This is not the most brain-dead I’ve ever been. It has been much worse in the past. Funny thing is all I can think about now is eating sugar to help me feel more refreshed. I wish I knew what had triggered this! Sometimes it’s obvious what triggers me. It’s often something I’m allergic to or have a negative reaction to. I’m not sure what it was that triggered it just now, though.
Well, here is an intro to what I’m going to write about when I get my head straight:
I need to be able to be somewhere in my future where things are going right and life is less unpleasant. I’m struggling too much to write right now. I’m going to lie down and pray I’ll get some vitality back in my system. My arms are hurting too much when I type and it hurts to try to hold my body up to reach the keyboard. I’m done.
Something finally clicked for me. I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to explain this in words.
I’d been thinking about some confusing and traumatic regarding my abuisve family too much lately. I didn’t realize how deep it was sending me into a bad place.
Of course, I want to reach out to someone for comfort. But I don’t have anything like that, so I get this uncomfortable feeling. It’s like I long for comfort but feel frozen inside. My whole lilfe feels “frozen” in that I don’t feel like I’m living.
Of course, this leads me to want to do more things in my life to feel better in this feeling of deadness coldnes and silence. It kind of leads to an impatient feeling because I feel I just have to do things. (More on this later.)
I also feel a physical pressure building up in me including in my head. It feels like I can’t breath and like my abdomen has turned to stone. There’s so many other horrible feelings that go along with this, but I want o get to the point.
Note: I realize it sounds like a panic attack in ways but it doesn’t meet criteria for a panic attack.
Also, there’s this feeling that I’ve been trying too hard to escape this bad feeling and I’m so tired of trying everything. I can’t try anymore. Nothing I do gets me anywhere. I’m just always at this place with no escape from the bad feelings, confusion, trauma and isolation. My brain just goes into anaysis paralysis. I feel much like this woman in the picture below, collapsed and unable to make a move because she’s at wit’s end and tired of trying.
When I check in with myself to figure out what’s wrong, I feel no emotions (Although they are there. I just can’t feel them. I feel suffocation, deafening silence and lifelessness instead). Instead of my emotions, I experience other desires in response to the emptiness. I feel a desperate need to fill the space. A desperate need to prove that I am somebody because I feel like nobody. A desperate search for something that has form to deal with the formlessness, like a nice picture or an animal.
I feel so calm and emotionless, that I can’t see myself exploding. I feel way too in control. I’m tired of feeling this in control. I hate this never-ending calm. I just want something to change in my life. I can’t keep going like this on this never-ending search for solutions as year after empty year passes.
Well, I do explode, eventually. All that pent up emotion comes out because I can’t hold my breath anymore and can’t keep my body held wrapped up tight forever. I can’t keep lying to myself that this is okay, that things are all okay. I can’t forever sit motionless watching life passively. My system can’t take it anymore.
I’m screaming for help and no one hears me.
I’m screaming because it feels better to at least let ou that desire to try to ask for help even though I doubt anyone wil help me. But it feels better, regardless.
I once felt a reprieve from these bad feelings and bad habits. It happened when I thought I wasn’t alone. When I felt physcially comforted by another person. When I thought they’d be there for me and wouldn’t leave me alone or forget about me. I was no longer screaming with no one to hear me. I felt heard. I felt not alone.
Now I realize what attachment theory says about me. I scream because I haven’t completely given up the way a person with avoidant attachment has. I scream because I’m neglected yet still think maybe someone could come back and save me. Help me is the thought behind my screams. Screaming is an instinct, a natural cry for help. Of course you can’t do it in public and expect a positive response. Ironically, you have to scream for help in private where no one will hear you.
I tried some Bach Rescue Pastilles and started feeling more optimistic and less lethargic. Coincidence?
I first started feeling really heavy and lethargic when I got on the computer this morning. I opened the window to let in some fresh air which barely helped. I took the medical cab to an appointment and noticed I no longer felt that heavy feeling when I walked back in the house. It’s like I’d walked into a completely different place. Not only that, but I also felt hunger and craved particular foods! I instinctively knew what I wanted to eat and needed to feel good and nourished! I usually don’t feel hunger in the normal sense and have a difficult time grasping what I want to eat. I just eat because I know I should eat, or think I should eat. (The best description or explanation I’ve found for this is the description for alexithymia in the book The Body Keeps the Score.) Ironically, even though I felt much better in that sense, I still wasn’t feeling great about life. I still felt pretty unenthused and not very optimistic. My brain power felt limp (more on that later).
Side note: For me, the ability to feel hunger strongly relates to happiness. Maybe this sounds weird to people who don’t experience it, but trust me, if you experience this sort of thing, you’ll know exactly what I mean and completely agree. You just can’t be happy in a true sense when these sensations are numbed or cut off.
Unfortunately, after a few minutes of being in the house, the heavy feeling started to come back. God, I hate this place.
It goes beyond just feeling heavy, lethargic and depressed. My brain just feels kind of frazzled. I feel in such a state of confusion of what I’m going to do, what I need to do, what I want to do. I just feel so much confusion. I keep turning things over and over in my head and can’t find a solution and don’t know what to do. It’s a horrible experience. (Contrast that with how I feel now that I feel better — I am able to type this blog post whereas before I couldn’t even get started in writing because my brain was so frazzled. Right now, it is clear in my head what I’m writing and doing here and I don’t feel weirdly mentally tormented in any way!) This tongue-tied experience really brings to mind the concept of witches putting hexes on a person’s ability to speak. I often feel like someone with a hex on them or like a bug that’s trying to walk after being sprayed with insecticide.
Note: I don’t know what that all means, but I’ve found that this problem get’s especially bad when I’m having a migraine. I’ve also found that I experience the same thing with “neurological migraines” where I have the same symptoms without the physical head pain. So perhaps I was headed toward a migraine.
I also had noticed on the way back home that my vision has been back to being flat/2D. I’ve found that this correlates with depersonalization and derealization and is related to a lack of gamma brain waves. But, basically, I seemed to have been slipping back into a depersonalized state without realizing it was happening. And I feel HORRIBLE when I’m depersonalized. When I’m depersonalized, I tend to have more grief and longing for my family, tend to experience more age anxiety and regret over the lost years of my life, and tend to have more feelings that I’m not really living and that I essentially barely exist as a person. I start mentally scrambling for a sense of wholeness.
Okay, alexithymia, neurological migraines and depersonalization all at once! What does that mean? To me they all seem like things that would be related. However, it could just mean that I just have a bunch of different neurological problems that aren’t actually part of the same thing. Like maybe different parts of my brain are being disrupted and each is causing different problems. Sigh. I’m so sick of having confusing neurological issues.
The lethargy and mental confusion and anguish when I sat at the computer was bad enough just by itself. Let alone all these other weird problems.
Anyway, I took some Bach Rescue Pastilles and feel much better. I’m not sure it’s coincidence. My head feels clearer. My vision seems sharper too. I’m able to function pretty well, it seems. Things seem more 3D. I’m not sure about the alexithymia but my mental clarity seems to be generally better, regardless. The neurological migraine thing definitely cleared up.
Well, I feel like I accomplished something by writing this all out. I never before put into words very well all of the experiences I was having. I’m not sure I was capable of doing it before.
Mental clarity, visual crispness, and “feeling okay” go together for me. I know B12 is heavily implicated in this illness. I know that people found improvements in their vision when they followed a high-dose B12 protocol. I’m not sure I like the idea of taking pastilles but they’re something I might have to do until the actual nutritional pathways get fixed. Actually, this is probably similar in ways to the concept of “supplementing” gamma brain waves.
Interesting side note: When I tried a Historical Remedies Calm Drop, I felt relaxed, fell asleep and my pain went away. With these pastilles, I felt more alert and awake rather than weak, dead and lethargic. I was no longer feeling like a zhombie. (I was in bed almost 10 hours last night but was awake, just lying in bed feeling like a zhombie, so I’m not sure how many hours I was actually asleep versus in half-awake zhombie mode. I was in super-zhombie mode this morning in bed and semi-zhombie mode during the day.)
God, I am a zhombie. Someone must’ve eaten my brains.
Being a living conscious zhombie is a terrifying experience. I don’t think people who haven’t experienced this understand this. And, ironically, you don’t realize what a bad experience it was until you snap out of it. Then you GET it.
I don’t feel exhausted after having written all that above. Normally I would. Normally writing feels excruciatingly difficult. Everything felt so excruciatingly difficult before this! Now everything just feels easy, no difficulty at all. Things just flow. My brain doesn’t feel like it’s going to short-circuit.
Side note: There are a few things that have had a similar effect on me in the past. Methyl donors (not sure if it was TMG, DMG, or DMAE), detox ear acupuncture, and iodine all have enhanced my vision. I can’t forget that histamine leads to poor methylation (hence the need for methyl donors). I really need to work on keeping my histamine levels down. I remember feeling more at peace when I was taking Quercetin to calm my histamine. I know that fixing the gut flora helps methylation issues. I can’t remember what the gut flora’s relationship is to histamine, although fixing gut flora is supposed to lead to better B12 levels ultimately. I know iodine also has a relationship with the gut flora, helping to boost immunity and combat yeast overgrowth in the gut. But I also know that the level of stress that sets of these illnesses leads to depletion of key minerals, notably magnesium. I can’t help but think the vicious cycle won’t end until magnesium levels are restored. But I know that, one way or another, restoring deep sleep is also key.
I wonder how many people feel like this all the time. Life is so much easier like this. I feel like I’ve been in this rickety wagon my whole life while everyone else is riding in a nice horse and carriage. This is what luxury feels like.
Well, at least I’ve written my thoughts out, if only for my own sake. This post might be good for me to go back to for reference. I wish I could explain to others why I struggle so much to function and get actual things accomplished. Why I can’t focus on my goals let alone figure out what my goals actually are. I can barely explain to myself what’s going on let alone explain it to someone else. I can’t just go to a therapist and say, “I’m upset about _____. I really care about ____,” and have a normal session discussing my feelings. Instead it’s more like, “I don’t really care much about anything so I can’t really feel bad. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know who I am. I just know I’m tired of feeling the way I do. I just want to feel hunger and also a nice feeling of fulfillment when I eat. Do you know what I mean?”
I’m afraid to go to sleep and wake up feeling bad again. Bad sleep means I wake up with vertigo and brain fog. I know I should sleep with my head elevated but haven’t managed to find a way to get it to feel comfortable. I know people with EDS say they benefit from elevating their feet instead. The blood seems to be pooling in my legs pretty significantly, so maybe that’s why I have a hard time getting comfortable with my head elevated. I know sleep position could be such a simple solution if I could get it to work! I’m using a CPAP now, but I never wake up completely refreshed. I’m not sure if I’m doing something wrong or if it’s not that effective.
Writing all this makes me realize how I have to be my own best friend. You can’t discuss things like this with other people. They aren’t going to understand. Discussing it with myself is more productive. I can’t really explain much of anything in my life to another person. People don’t even understand when I try to say, “I’m sick,” or “I have trouble functioning.” I’ve often wished I had a wise older person to turn to for help or advice, but now I realize wise people don’t understand these things. They only understand normal life experiences.
I’m feeling a little more weak and washed out again. I’m wondering if the effect of the pastille is wearing off. Interestingly there’s this sensation like my eyelashes feel more like they’re sticking together. That really doesn’t seem weird when you understand ionization and ill health. This icky, sticky, slimy feeling is part of it.
I don’t feel as positive about life anymore. I feel exhausted of it. Exhaustion, exhaustion, exhaustion. I crave food not because I’m hungry but because I feel it will help counter this weak, washed-out feeling. It feels like a desperate attempt to push the blood flow back up to my brain. Which reminds me — this washed out feeling is directly related to POTS and dysautonomia, isn’t it:
I’m still in awe of how clear my head is now (the 2nd pastille may have kicked in). I’m much more able to see the big picture of my health issues. I don’t feel like a rat running through a maze but more like I’m above the maze and can see the whole thing. Same goes for understanding my life. This is actually similar to the effect gaba had. The fuzzy sticky feeling is gone too.
I’m still not able to figure out anything else about my life though, like, “Where do I go from here?” I still can’t find much meaning in life. I want to experience something beautiful, in a deeper sense. I wanted to believe there was something beautiful and wise about my ancestors but then I met some of my relatives and found out they’re nuts. Now what? Everyone I know that’s my age in America seems like they’re lost, looking for something to live for or at least something to keep them busy.
I want to experience love and joy. There’s no warmth on my birthday and holidays feel empty and cold. Life itself is just more of that same theme. No rites of passage, no real connections to anyone outside of distant connections.
I guess it’s time for me to go. Ugh, the discomfort is coming back but mainly because my housemate came back and he’s an aggravating person to be around. My jaw seems to subconsciously tense up when he’s around and I imagine my brain waves go haywire. I’ve often found that whenever I’ve managed to find peace in my system, he upsets it. I’m really tempted to get some anxiety reducing aromatherapy in the air in an attempt to get him to calm down in hopes that he won’t upset my calm as much. My first attempt is going to be to keep some orgonite around and see if he calms down. If that doesn’t work, I might try aromatherapy.
I’m feeling too frazzled and upset right now. I go from being a calm rational person to being one of those people that can’t stop complaining and being upset. I’ll try not to think of this too hard. I’ll try the orgonite and try to stay optimistic. Ironically, even though he upset my calm and happiness, my optimism is still there! I do find it harder to write without second-guessing myself as if someone is repeatedly punching me in the head ever few words I type. I just can’t think as straight anymore. Maybe it’s the jaw-clenching. My face is probably in a grimace. Rudeness hurts. People like him are considered to be the type that upset the vagus nerve, that put you in a state of distress rather than a state of social engagement.
I’m going to have to change the title of this blog because just seeing the title makes me depressed. Right now it’s called “Waking Up To Nothing”. Not only do I have to see the depressing title, but also the bland appearance of wordpress and lack of activity on here feels like a letdown. It’s a desert. Desert’s are depressing, right? (Do people who live in the desert use antidepressants to cope with the dearth of beauty and activity?) I guess this is why people log onto Facebook — because it there’s always something going on. My Facebook is relatively quiet these days, though. Well, at least someone said some nice words to me on a cfs group on Facebook, and, honestly, it does make me feel better. People are usually so cruel to you when you are struggling in life, at least in America, and seeing people who are understanding or compassionate changes everything about the vibe of this life.
The cruelty of “friends” and family is something that is part of my post-illness trauma, now. It’s all I see when I look at this world. When someone says something kind, it makes the world feel less like a horrible place to be.
Anyway, I’m upset because I’ve been way too tired. At least I woke up feeling okay other than being tired. I felt a little confused because I woke up with reminders of my family. (I had to cut ties with my family because of their abuse.) I still miss what my life was like when my family was around. My thought on waking was that I should see a therapist that specializes in grief. I considered looking for a therapist that deals with alexithymia but figured I wouldn’t be able to find one.
Wow, I was just googling alexithymia and found this quote: “Some alexithymic men and women believe that their partners have emotional problems. They think they’re too intense and irrational.” – (from the article: Loving Someone with Alexithymia). That describes the schizoid in my life. It makes that I’m on the milder end of the alexithymic scale. I do feel like I’ve become more alexithymic as I’ve known him. The more I’m around him, the more numb I feel and the more I lose enthusiasm for life. That’s another story, though. Interesting that they believe there is no link between alexithymia and psychopathy: “Alexithymic individuals, unlike psychopaths, feel a normal range of emotions. They just can’t interpret their own emotions, nor other people’s emotions.” I wonder if narcissists are alexithymic or more like psychopaths then?
Wow, this is also true of him: “They don’t understand why their partner is hurt by certain behavior, or that they aren’t happy, or that they need something, why they’re sad, why their mood changed, etc.”
“They don’t like reflection, double-meanings, poetic language, irony, or romance.” Maybe that’s why he doesn’t understand when I say, “This is funny,” when I’m referring to something ironic. He also hates if I try to reflect on anything. He hates it with a passion. Not sure why. Maybe it hurts his brain to try to think like that.
Wow, the ending to this article was a let-down: “If your alexithymic partner isn’t willing to seek help or try to change, there’s no point in prolonging your suffering. You have to know when to throw in the towel.” I’ve always wanted to get far away from him because it hurts to much. It hurts in ways beyond what this article mentioned. I just never could get away because of my illness, lack of resources, lack of money, lack of support, etc. I had to figure out how to put up with him, and that essentially meant numbing myself or trying to tune him out. The article gives no options.
I found this blog post: Alexithymia and Attachment Style. It says, “The most common attachment style in which you will find alexithymia is the Dismissive-Avoidant.” Well, at least now I know his attachment style. I knew he was avoidant. That much was clear.
Well, I’ve got my work cut out for me. I really need a way out of this hell, but I’ve been too paralyzed to dig myself out of the hole. At least I was able to write this blog post, which is something. Perhaps I can find a therapist who is actually helpful. Maybe they can help me meet my practical needs. Maybe they can help me meet my emotional needs. I really don’t know.
Here’s a couple quotes that really need to be emphasized:
“Emotional reciprocity, love and belonging are essential human needs, if these needs are not being met and the reason why is not understood, then mental and physical health may be affected.” Maxine Aston
“Many of us leave families where there has been abuse or trauma with symptoms of AfDD, but those clusters of symptoms have never been named. It’s all been lumped together under depression, or anxiety, or PTSD, or “Stop whining and get over it.” Affective Deprivation Disorder and Alexithymia in Marriage
I was always weak from ill-health before I met him. I did come from a cold family that set me up for ill health long before I met him. I don’t necessarily think my upbringing is the sole reason for my health problems but I do think it’s a contributing factor that really seems to have prevented me from getting better or from staying better when I experience periods of recovery.
The only way I know to try to create connections and meet people is to try to meet people online. It’s hard because, when you feel needy or emotional, you really don’t feel like talking to strangers about fluff in order to eventually develop the type of relationship with them where you can actually talk to them about what’s really on your mind. You just want to be able to get it out, right now! I feel like I’m constantly working, constantly climbing this hill. I don’t have time or energy for frivolous connections with strangers. I’m just fighting for the ability to think clearly under this brain fog, fighting to deal with the pain and discomfort in my body, fighting to be good enough… I don’t even really know what I’m fighting anymore. I’m just fighting for things to be okay. I just need a ticket out.
I’m trying to transition from writing privately about my days to writing publicly.
The problem is that, if I write publicly, I have to figure out how to explain what I’m dealing with to any random person that might try to read this post and try to comprehend what’s going on. Which makes things so much harder!
Here it goes:
I’m feeling better today. My head’s been in a fog lately. Today it finally feels crisp and sharp. Yes! The foggy-headedness is one of the worst feelings and it creeps up on you. I’ve developed techniques to help clear up the fogginess, but I start forgetting to do them. I start thinking I don’t need them. Then the fog gets heavy, yet I don’t realize it’s happening.
I really felt horrible last night. Not just because of the fog but because of horrible abdominal pain and a desperate horrible feeling that accompanied it.
I did a lot of my physical exercises that I’d been neglecting last night and this morning. I also did some brain entrainment.
I feel so much less lazy today! And lighter in my body. Clearer-headed and less exhausted.
You could say: My brain feels less “heavy”.
If anyone is actually reading this, I guess I should tell you what I did. I usually write in this blog assuming no one’s reading. But with this clarity in my head, somehow I’m more able to imagine that someone else is reading, I guess?
Well, the first thing I did was a salt enema followed by magnesium citrate enema alongside a chi machine. Helped a lot. I did Dr. Wilson’s pulling down/pushing down meditation, Frolov’s breathing exercise, and hand mudras. I drank some Moringa and brain entrainment and used some posture training devices to help the kegel and lower abdominal muscles. And I did a salt rub and cold shower and morning sungazing. And drank my sodium and potassium water.
I can say that almost every one of these has an immediate contribution. I do feel the mudras helped me sleep better and wake up more clear-headed. (Although I am using cpap and keeping that on properly at night helps a lot). Cold showers and salt rubs are really good to help freshen up your body. Can’t believe my abdominal pain has lessened! Just relaxing and having a little fun last night helped the pain a lot, honestly.
My body’s been feeling too heavy today. I don’t know what it means. It, of course, comes with this desire to do something uplifting in my life. But I don’t know if my life is the reason I feel so heavy. In other words, I’m not sure if this feeling is just caused by my health problems or if it’s an emotional reaction to my life.
I haven’t had the motivation to work on anything. My brain feels fried, like I’ve been reading and using theomputer too much and it’s just fed up. It feels too painful to think anymore. No more reading, thinking, googling. I get punished with more depression if I do. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Brain, what do you want me to do?When will you allow me to feel good?
In reality, nothing I do ever seems to get me anywhere in life. Everything I do is an exercise in futility. In the end, I don’t know why I do anything if all I get is just pain and punishment with no positive future ahead. I feel like a rat running around in a cage, a painful cage at that. The rat will never leave the cage no matter how muh it fights or how hopeful it is that it will someday get out if it just keeps working at it.
I know with this heaviness comes a feeling of tightness in my chest and difficulty taking a full breath. Again, I’m not surewhy this is hapening to me now or what to do about it now. I might try meditating to get my body to relax. I might try enemas as constipation can cause feelings like this. The irony is that it’s really hard to get the willpower and focus to do anything when I feel like this. But I’ll manage to get around to doing those things eventually. I’m not very hopeful that they’ll work.
I remember when I used to feel this way everyday. I was draggingmy body so hard. It was worse then because my brain was also worse. It was so hard to think clearly. At least my brain is a little better now.
I wish I had a positive uplifting person in my life to keep me going. I wish I could taste a little bit of life, just to have a positive feeling to hold onto and keep me going. My soul can’t imagine the feeling of a nice life, so it seems like it just gives up. There’s no carrot at the end of my stick to keep me going.
Wow. I didn’t expect it to feel so hard to do a therapy intake.
Things were okay at first, but then my therapist wanted to know what happened during the past ten years of my life. A lot happened, and it’s hard to explain. Hard to explain partly because I don’t really know what happened. I was pretty out of it during much of it due to my illness. So many days were just a blur of nothingness. Just days of just being paralyzed, of watching life pass by through foggy glasses. Days of not knowing what I ate or if I ate, of not having anyone to talk to, of not even knowing what I did that day.
The part that gets me is that she was upset I didn’t mention emotional and sexual trauma. It kind of shook me that she expected me to bring that up while I was trying to explain everything else.
In reality, although abuse and trauma is all painful, it’s trivial compared to the big picture. Trauma just a side effect of all the other things gone wrong. Trauma happened because I was in such powerless and helpless positions. If we don’t focus on and fix those other things putting me in a helpless state, well, the trauma’s always going to be there. I really just want to be somewhere positive, happy and optimistic right now, not a place and position in life that reminds me of how helpless I am. Of course, chronic illness always makes you feel helpless. But your situation around you can go a long way in reminding you that you maybe have options versus making you feel completely powerless. I guess that’s not something most people understand. I want to be somewhere where I can do some things with my life that bring me joy, hope, happiness. I want to feel good, even if it’s temporary. I want to know that if my health gets better, I can know to expect more and more of these good things in life. There’s no way to be able to visualize what good must feel like when you’re living in a place that sucks you dry.
(Also, interestingly, some people with chronic illness, hypothyroid, candida overgrowth and such mentioned that their imagination and ability to visualize went away a few years into their illness. I wonder if that’s why it’s so important for me to see things with my own eyes and why I can’t imagine happiness without being able to see, taste, and feel it at least a little. Maybe that’s why “normal” people don’t get me.)
I think back over the intake. Are there things I shouldn’t have told her? I feel inevitably, I’m going to be misunderstood. No one understands how hard it is to survive when you’re mind and body are broken AND you lack resources at the same time. No one understands what it’s like when antidepressants don’t make you happy so it’s easier to just not take them because at least your days pass faster when you’re not on them (at least for me, antidepressants made me more awake and more aware of my uncontrollable reality, which was not really something pleasant. And they didn’t make me feel good the way a hot fudge sundae or a warm blanket would, which is what I was hoping for.) I just want to feel good.
And I just want life to make sense. — Wouldn’t it be easier just to forget the past ten years? Just to start over today as if I was born yesterday and none of that happened? I have the naivete of a teenager, and it feels like I never actually became an adult. I feel like people act a lot different when they find out that I’m not a teenager anymore, even though I am at the same level as a teen in many ways. What do they expect? I guess at this point in my life, people expect me to have done a lot of drugs, partied, gone crazy, had lots of sex and really understand what the world is like and what it’s like to be grown-up. My therapists kept asking me if I drank, smoked and did drugs, and it made me feel weird. It made me feel like I should be doing all those things, for some reason. Or maybe it’s because I’m the black sheep of the family, so you expect me to have done some crazy “bad-kid”-type stuff. (I shouldn’t have told her of the abusive things they did, because people like to try to justify abusive things by saying the person who’s abused is bad and deserves it.) Maybe it’s because someone in my position who’s in their right mind would turn to drugs to help them function and cope with the situation. Instead, I lived this watered-down life which might deem weak. Okay, I don’t think the therapist was thinking that I should do drugs, but I did start to think that she was thinking that I just didn’t have the gumption to do things I should be doing to get out of my situation. Like, maybe she thought I should have physical attacked people who abused me without worrying about the consequences. Maybe she thought I should have done more reckless things in desperate times. Maybe she thought the fact that I wasn’t doing drugs meant that my situation wasn’t actually rough enough or bad enough. People with truly rough lives always turn to drugs, right?
I’m an outlier I guess. If drugs actually felt like a warm blanket or a hot fudge sundae, maybe I’d do them. Well, I’ve heard that heroine feels like a warm hug, but somehow opioids don’t appeal to me because my body is already pretty and numb and dissociated. Doesn’t seem to do me any good.
I just want to feel good and try to stay in that place of comfort and bliss for as long as I can. No talking about the past. No digging up old abusive people. Just want to feel okay as long as I possibly can until this chapter of my life finally ends.
Shudder I’m too tired to write about this right now, but if I let fatigue get in the way of doing things, I wouldn’t get anywhere in life. Here it goes. I spent a therapy session Tuesday explaining how my relationship with my pseudo-brother and caretaker came to be as well as hinting at some of the more troubling things that he has done that left me traumatized, feeling unsafe and enshrouded in a cloud of hopelessness. The therapist asked questions as to whether there was anything physical going on. I didn’t go into full detail into the rape and ongoing sexual abuse that had gone on, but I just let her know that there were things that happened that I didn’t want. I kind of regret telling her now. We had another session on Thursday. It was then that it became clear that she didn’t understand anything about my life and didn’t understand what I told her on Tuesday. She started bring up this idea that we had a relationship where he was providing me with money in exchange for sex. What??!!!! Did she forget everything I told her on Tuesday? Or is she doing this on purpose to troll me? I had explained this all to her. I had explained that I was too incapacitaed to work and survive on my own. That I couldn’t drive, had difficulty walking and standing, and even struggled to use public transportation. That I had no money. That I had amnesia and pseudo-amnesia. That there was no one who knew me well enough to understand and help me. She should know that I need assistance. I had explained that I had no one who I could talk to who understood the details of my physical issues and the troubling abuse I had experienced at the hands of loved ones in my past, other than him. There was only one person who knew what happened to me in my blackouts and the parts of my life missing from my memory. I needed someone who knew what was happening when my physical issues hit and left me incapacitated. I needed someone who wasn’t going to push me to do self-destructive things to make my situation worse rather then scream at me that I’m lazy, worthless and a disappointment when I can’t do them or start losing consciousness. I needed someone to help me come to terms with the incredibly f-ed dynamics of biological family and keep me from making the bad decisions that led me back into their sick, destructive games. Was she just pretending to be sympathetic on Tuesday while secretly assuming that I was lying to her and only clinging to this guy for money while believing I’m perfectly capable of surviving alone??? WTF??!!!! It feels like she was playing some sort of game with me. Oh my god. If she is unable to undersand my situation, the things that I need and the things that are keeping me traumatized and unhappy, then how is she going to help me? The only way to fix a problem is to define and understand the problem. So I’m left feeling depressed after sessions because I’m left feeling helpless and disempowered and that’s what depression is. Can’t therapists at least give their clients a spark of hope so that they can a tiny reprieve from their depression?? To be fair, not all sessions are that bad. Some of things she said in this particular session had just left me especially shocked. She also keeps trying to pigeon-hole me suggesting that I will never succeed socially and should just give up on ever having friends or belonging anywhere. At least that seemed to be what she was insinuating. I tried to ignore it the first time this happened, but on Thursday it started to really feel like that’s what was going on. I had told her that even if I was able to be independent and had a job that paid rent, I’d still be very alone in the world because I don’t have social skills. She didn’t argue with that. Didn’t even try to offer an inkling of hope. Didn’t even offer suggestions. Huh? As a therapist, why would you do that? Lack of empathy? Or intentional sabotage? I can’t help but wonder if in the back of her head, she was thinking, “I’ll lose clients if help them find solutions to their problems. And this one’s so out of it and confused right now that I can probably get away with leading her on.” Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t want to give up. What’s the point in giving up? I don’t have a sedative drug to turn to if I do accept giving up. By her sitting there quietly as I explain that I can’t expect to hope for much of a safe, meaningful or pleasant life anyway since I don’t have social skills, she is pretty much suggesting that I give up. Checking in with myself right now, I’m tired and cold. When my body temperature gets low it tends to make my energy lower. And when you’re tired, looking at a frustrating picture like this feels overwhelming. Problems are great to approach when you’re full of energy and ready to tackle things but not when you’re dragging yourself. Anyway, I can’t help but feel like my therapist doesn’t understand the concept of dissociation very well. Maybe she doesn’t understand that dissociation led me to accept abuse and feel confused For anyone who’s reading this and doesn’t know, dissociation makes it so that you don’t feel strong emotions when you are abused or traumatized. Instead it’s like you feel nothing, and feels almost as if nothing happened. If someone asked you what happened, you might even say that it’s not a big deal. But just because a person looks okay on the outside, doesn’t mean they are okay. A good therapist should know this I hope. A lot of people have already been groomed for abuse beforehand, sometimes by another abuser. It really bothers me that therapists don’t understand this and don’t act accordingly. If she doesn’t understand this, maybe that’s why she twisted my words in her mind and said to herself, “She won’t admit it, but she had sex with this guy for money. I’ll just casually bring it up next session.” Shudder My therapist is really knowledgable. She knows a lot of concepts. The reason I stuck with her is that she was the only person who wanted me to read up on dissociation and actually went through and explained some psychological concepts to me. Somehow, though, she doesn’t seem to really understand how some of that stuff affects a person and affects their behavior. It’s like no one taught her how to put these ideas together. I’ve still managed to get some benefit from seeing her. It hasn’t changed my life, but it’s helped me understand it. That’s one problem solved, right? Still, I’m pretty tired of it. I don’t think it should be this long and laborious of a process. Ten years from now, people will say, “If you don’t like the situation, why didn’t you just leave?” (People love to say that, don’t they?) At least I can say, “Well, ask my therapist. I’m not sure why the process evolves so slowly.” Right??!! I don’t think they’ll like that answer. Well…I know I shouldn’t give in to the pressure of those kinds of people who make assumptions about what’s possible in another’s life without making an effort to learn about that person’s situation. (Whose the lazy one, them or us?) The problem is that they have such utter confidence that you should be able to just snap your fingers and get what you want that I can’t help but feel that the world really does work that way and I’m doing something wrong. I feel confused, find myself wondering, “How could they even think like that? What do they know that I don’t?” Wow, my mental clarity is pretty good today. Cold and tired but my mind is sharper. I’m amazed that I was able to write all that. I feel good about what I wrote, but I feel like another person would read it and still be cold and unempathic the way my therapist is cold and unempathic. I feel like my ability to communicate my thoughts and feelings with another person just isn’t there. I mean, on Tuesday therapy session, I thought I had communicated really well what was going on and found out Thursday that there was no understanding at all. I think this post may be the same. I may think that I communicated well here yet be completely wrong. What is wrong with me? Am I an alien? Could I ever find another person who understands me, therapist or otherwise????? The overwhelming pain of facing the reality that I’ll never be understood is too much for me. I don’t like being an alien alone in this cold world. I don’t like how everything I do fails. Failng at being understood. Failing at communicating. Failing at finding comfort in another person, therapist or otherwise. Failing at finding a joyful life worth living for. I just want a therapist who can empathize. Who can understand what makes me happy and what brings me down. Oohh… I’m really not sure if that last paragraph would make sense to anyone. Basically, it helps me feel less dissociated if someone is able to empathize with me. I tend to disown my feelings around people who don’t empahize. People who are abused might understand what I’m saying here. I’ve done EMDR sessions with my therapist and still felt this numbness. If you haven’t done EMDR, it is hard to explain. You are supposed to face strong feelings. Interesting images have popped up when I’ve done EMDR, but no feelings have been processed. It’s still like I’m seeing it all from a distance. I don’t necessarily blame that on my therapist, but it’s interesting how the detachment/disconnect is still there. EMDR doesn’t seem to help. I don’t know if I’ll ever be not emotionally alone in this world. And if I’m always going to be alone, what do I do???? I’ve tried to become more like the people around me to connect with them. I thought, if the feelngs I have and the things that make me happy don’t fit into this world then I’ll have to change myself to be more like the people around me so that I can connect with them. I don’t like drugs, but I thought I’d have to do drugs and learn to like them since everyone else was doing drugs. It didn’t work. It all made sense when someone explained that they tried the same sort of thing in their marriage to an emotionally unavailable schizoid. They said they felt lonely and tried to be more like the schizoid. It didn’t work. My pseudo-brother/caretaker is schizoid. I had tried the same thing with him. I tried so hard to embrace his world since I couldn’t change it. I tried so hard to change myself, to feel the things he thought I should feel and not feel the things he thought I shouldn’t feel (Mostly, he just thought I shouldn’t feel.) I know I am different to him. He thinks I am an alien and his is normal. Here’s the deal. Schizoids are supposedly not the majority of the population. To me, it sure feels like they are the majority. I mean, he’s the one person I see 99% of the time. So, all I see is schizoid everywhere. On top of that, I grew up in a strange family that always invalidated my emotions. But, to be honest, everyone else I see around me looks like that too. My therapist, for example. The checkout clerk who looks at you with cold eyes at the grocery store. The stranger who gives you bad life advice. The drugged up man on the sidewalk who looks at you with apathy. The man asking you for a cold sexual relationship with no respect or appreciation for you as a person. The bad acting on the television. The people who constantly invalidate the homeless and the miserable by stereotyping everything as mental illness without looking deeper and having compassion. This woman who as married to a shizoid says that she found a man who was loving and emotionally available. To not give up hope. I want to believe that. I want to believe that I can find someone out there that I can connect with. I’ve been repeatedly told that there’s something wrong with me and I’ll never fit in. My therapist here is gaslighting me with the same message: You’re the weirdo here. I’m the one that has it all together and you’re the screwed up client, remember?? People like to say, “You’re weird,” without telling me why I’m weird. Well that’s kind and thoughtful of them. “You’re crazy.” Just in general, I’m crazy? Or did I do something crazy? Exactly what makes me crazy? Could you tell me the rules of how a person is supposed to be so that I know when I’m doing something “crazy”? The reason I find it terrifying to have this emotionally unavailable schizoid as my only life influence is because his twisted reality is not one I want to be part of. He thinks a lot of things are wrong that I think are right: He hates female traits. He finds it disgusting when people exercise their creativity. He hates ambition. He hates that I would like to put some effort into my appearance. He hates it when I take photos. Something about that is just cringeworthy to him. (I’m not sure what it is about it, but I’m obviously too broken in my brain to ever understand it.) He hates my emotions. He hates the things I want to do with my life. Not all of them, but a lot of them. He hates when I talk about science or biology. He hates that I put so much effort into understanding things instead of playing video games and watching TV like he does. That’s one of the most interesting things. He believes a person should spend all of their free time on entertainment and not try to do anything with their life and let problems stagnate at the same time (through hefty denial and avoidance). In order for me to fit into his world, I have to give up my values, you see? He’s not willing to accept and even possibly appreciate my values. To be fair, I also find it really hard to be okay with his. The immense pressure to try to fit into his world is always there. Do I have to learn to embrace his hatred of creativity, of science, of beauty, of progress, of meaning, of reality? Do I have to delude myself into believing he’s attractive and a perfect person with no flaws and that I am a complete failure of a human? He even told me when he met me that he thought there was a problem with the way I was and he wanted to make me more like him. He succeeded in making me feel more numb, but he never managed to completely get rid of all of my values. Well, that was somewhat of a ramble, but the question still stands, “Will I ever be able to belong in the world. Or am I just an alien in a culture that I can never fit into wihout giving myself more brain damage?” I genuinely do feel hopeless about it. Is this the hopelessness that antidepressants are supposed to make go away? (So far, no antidepressant or other suggestion has made it go away, for those trolls out there who want to assume I haven’t tried.) I’m genuinely sick of the people that I know. And those people make up my world. Therefore, I am sick of the world. I don’t understand the point of a mindless hedonistic existence dissociated from reality and enshrouded in denial, delusion, hate and abuse.
I just watched someone review a TLC show featuring a Tunisian guy who met a Canadian woman online. I had so many thoughts about what I saw that I don’t know where to start. But, ultimately, people’s reaction to this show left me feeling depressed, alone, upset, and hopeless.
I’m in my mid-thirties and have never really had a true relationship. I’m not sure how much you could say that I’ve even dated. Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to date. When I got much older, my life got stranger. I won’t go into details now, but I did try dating given my unusual situation and with what little knowledge and resources I had for dating. I basically just ended up in some bad situations. I’m not sure I would call them dates.
The only one that I might call a true date involved someone who I was not attracted to. I felt absolutely nothing. Well, that whole thing has been a painful experience for me and incredibly traumatic. It resulted in a 10 year “relationship” with the “relationship” part missing but lots of very unpleasant sexual experience and abuse. Of course, I’ve always been alone in all this.
Back to the TLC show:
People were super-critical of the Tunisian man and the nature of his relationship with the Canadian woman. They basically had very lofty ideals and expectations of life. And this probably was because these people had lots of options in their lives. It’s easy to idealize life and have great expectations for it when you have options.
I saw their relationship as not that bad. There were a couple things going on here:
For one, people did not understand the Tunisian man and where he was coming from. I understood because my family is originally from the Middle East where the culture if very similar. I liked the man and understood him. Sure, he couldn’t “see” the concept of a relationship the way that people from other countries can, but that’s because of his culture and experiences. I’d say he was a little clueless due to his lack of experience with relationships. I still think I preferred some of his views and attitudes to those of more experienced people. It scared me to see how people reacted to him. If people reacted to him in that way, how would people react to me? On some deeper subconscious level, I’ve already accepted that I don’t have a shot at love partly because people aren’t going to understand me. Watching this show, I thought that maybe if I moved to the Middle East, I’d have a better chance because people would understand me.
There was a traumatic incident in my life that really made it sink in that no one will want me because they won’t understand me. I met a guy who I fell in love with and thought my life was going to completely change. To some extent, he knew that I didn’t understand how relationships worked. Nonetheless, he expected me to understand how the body worked and what happens when two people who are attracted to each other get together physically. (I have had sexual experiences before, but not with someone I was attracted to. I’ve found that having a sexual experience with someone you are attracted to is very different from the experience you’ll have with someone you are attracted to.)
Anyway, apparently he didn’t want me and that had something to do with the fact that I didn’t know what to do with someone I was attracted to. He didn’t bother to try to understand where I was coming from. But on top of that, he didn’t understand that I didn’t have options. I didn’t have a family to turn to for comfort. I wasn’t able to meet many men and he was the first and only one I’d met that made me feel comforted and not alone in over a decade. So, unfortunately, he was all I could turn to for hope.
Let’s just say, his response to me was to treat me like I was not human. Apparently everything I said or did was wrong and was an inconvenience to him. He wanted a girl that could give him what he wanted and didn’t have any of the struggles I have. He had plenty of options, so he could easily just discard me with no emotion.
The other part of people’s reaction to the Tunisian and Canadian love story that bothered me was that they scoffed anything and everything unusual. Sure they scoffed at all the weird things the Tunisian did as I mentioned before, but they scoffed at every little detail like how the woman went about choosing her wedding dress, how she prepared for dealing with having limited sexual interaction with the Tunisian, how the Tunisian reacted to her, etc. Again, people didn’t bother to try to understand the perspectives of the Tunisian and Canadian and rather viewed things through the lens of “This is the right way and only way that people should think and act regardless of their background and circumstances.” *Sigh* Again, that gives me no hope for myself because I’ll never know how to be “normal” and do things the “right way”.
Lastly, the Tunisian and Canadian did get in some arguments, which is to be expected. They’re in the early stages of knowing each other and from completely different cultures. There’s going to be some kinks to work through. Well, according to the viewers, any sort of argument means that a relationship shouldn’t be worth pursuing at all. That just shows how fortunate these people have been that they expect everything to come easily with no hassle or struggle. That’s completely foreign to me. I thought the amount of fighting in the relationship wasn’t even that bad. And honestly, it was upsetting to me think of all the hell I’ve been through that was much worse than what you saw in the TLC show.
Ultimately, I was left feeling like my life is a complete lost cause. I’m not even close to any sort of love life let alone having friends who understand me. I guess I’ve tried to imagine that the degree to which I’ve been misunderstood in my life was all in my head, but this reminds me that it’s not and I can expect to be further alienated in my life. Everyone wants to be “normal” to be able to have good life. It seems for people like me, we have to take any man, even one that always fights if it means escaping the life I’ve got.