Inexplicable Explanation

 

These past few weeks, I’ve been finding myself becoming increasingly more of a sap over small things.  Or suddenly struck with fear or dread over something I see on the television.  I watched Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. I am a horse lover, so I like the movie, but I cried the entire time.  That’s not normal.  I cried when a man was kind and caring to a woman on a television show.  And I start thinking, “Wow, I’m emotional with no explanation.” But there’s always an explanation.  I just have yet to find it.  Or want to find it.  Normally it’s the latter.
I had not been putting much thought into it until it refused to be ignored the past two days – over the weekend, when I was laid up in bed from a herniated disc in my neck.  I’m going on month 5 of this, and after a long week, I had planned on having no plans over the weekend.  Apparently, my emotional self, and all the other “selves” that come with that, took advantage of this time.
Perhaps I have been avoiding them.  Even neglecting them.  Or perhaps I’ve downright abandoned them lately.  I think I’ve had to.  I’ve had stress lately…I think I’ve lost time once or twice.  My memory has been downright shitty.
And now I’m crying at animated movies narrated by Matt Damon from 2002.
How the fuck did I get myself here?
I keep thinking, “Yeah, you’re good…You don’t need therapy anymore.  Besides, what else can she help you with? Clearly, you’ve made your decision.  Clearly, you think you can handle having contact with your father while still living near your mother who works long distance for your father.  Clearly, you think that’s the only way forward right now, so clearly, that’s the way forward.”
Clearly.
Have you ever gotten yourself so screwed over in a position….Financially, mentally, emotionally….That you just can’t find a way out?
That’s where I am.  It will be years before I dig myself out of the hole I’m in.  I’m working on it.  I’m trying to explore possible escape routes.  But it appears I will have to suck it up and take the long way out.
I sure hope my life is worth it. Good thing I’ve got this new semicolon tattoo on my ankle to keep me sane.

An assignment

I’ve decided that, given how unsafe I feel at the moment, I am going to try to write out what I’m feeling every day (or most days) while T is gone. The more this stays inside, the more it festers and the more I feel like I just can’t take it.

Today. I’m fantastically unproductive at work. I feel on the verge of tears, and I keep thinking how much I’d like to just lose all awareness of everything – of what I’m feeling, of what I need to do, of who I am. There is a knot in my chest that keeps tightening. Every minute here feels like torture.

I miss T. After more than 2 years of therapy with her, I have reached the point of attachment. It hurts that she’s gone, and I wish she were here just so I could feel that comfort and safety of being near her. At least when she’s in the same town, I know she’s close. It almost feels like I’ve lost all object permanence and I think that, just because she’s out-of-town, she’s never coming back. My mind knows that’s not true, but my heart feels like it is.

I know, theoretically, that these feelings are normal, but it still feels ridiculous for me to be this way as an adult. I should be able to manage being by myself and take care of my own emotions without relying on someone else to help me regulate. I should know better by now that suicide isn’t the way out. I should have more appreciation for my life. T told me this story last week about her father who was a Holocaust survivor. She said that when he was on his death-bed he said, “It’s still a beautiful world.” She went on to say how we all survive our own Holocausts. I know she meant well, but I now feel like I am a horribly ungrateful person who has absolutely nothing to be unhappy about, especially in the light of what others have suffered.

And yet, I’m still stuck in this place and I’m trying not to do anything bad to escape it.