Jun 8, 2022
i be in my own head fighting for my life
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i be in my own head fighting for my life
Sometimes the trauma tries to drop some new info and I just... pack it up and mail it back. Return to sender I do not want to know this.
The guilt that comes from being a SA survivor and your partner still wanting you to do things you know you can't do for them.
Im too broken to be desirable.
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Hello, all, our system struggles with Alexithymia (the inability to track/identify emotions) and I have just now found two wonderful links that I’d like to share with you all! https://www.therapistaid.com/worksheets/emotion-exploration-scale
https://www.therapistaid.com/worksheets/basic-emotions-printout
Friendly reminder that the color wheel also exists, here it is:
I shall make a separate post about Alexithymia on my next post (hopefully), enjoy this for now!
The Healing
~ Story by Stormi Dawn
She: It's beginning to make sense, this change inside of me.
He: You mean, growing in wisdom and understanding, learning what makes you - well... you?
She: Well, I've been trying to steady myself, but allow myself room to breathe. Like as I do, I'm finally bringing myself together, piece by piece.
He: So, does this unfolding surprise you about yourself? Are all the emotions, all the varied beliefs, accomplishments and failures, beginning to weave a more congruent line in behind and, most importantly, in front of you?
She: The things I think are out of place, I'm finally finding myself able to find the containers they properly belong in, but that's really just beginning. It just feels so neat. Until now, it's as if I had been scattered all about my history, emotions, bad people, and even across some melodies.
He: Is it like you're on a journey underneath all that is happening round and about you?
She: I don't know. It's just like...I think I'm finally healing... like somehow I'm finally setting myself free from all the bondage I've placed upon me.
He: Or, more likely, had placed upon you. [Clears throat] So, are you finding some moments you're actually present, where you can feel and cherish things?
She: It's hard. A lot. But it's happening more frequently. And I'm finding connections where I thought they'd long since past.
He: Are you laughing more often?
She: Yes, and genuinely.
He: Are you beginning to see the lessons more clearly as you navigate your history?
She: Moment by moment, and without all the searching. It's like these moments that come to me are finally setting me free as I figure them out and accept them without judgment. There's just so many!
He: Never healing the wounds means each encounter was even more devastating. It's like a wounded horse staying in a race, his rider not stopping even though the horse is down to three legs. Next you know, the horse starts to get worse and worse off, every gallop is bringing defeat to his body and spirit. As there rider keeps going, the horse rides on bravely obeying his rider and as the rider drives him farther, one small pebble or clump of dust might be all it takes for the horse to fall down completely.
She: So, like, never taking a pause to understand the injury completely, let alone heal. And blaming myself for even getting injured each time as I forced myself to go on without understanding or healing, only applying external disciplines.... that's what's been making me so hollow, detached, and empty within?
He: Exactly. Take all the time you need. Pretty unique you've made it this long functioning with the analogy, huh?
She: Geez. Guess it is. Is it unique that I'm healing these things?
He: That you've never stopped searching for a way to heal, without any proper resources or diagnoses or guidance... that you've held onto finding a way to heal, knowing deep inside something wasn't quite right - that you didn't give up trying for THIS long - that's very unique.
She: So, do you think I'm a bad person?
He: What do you think?
She: I don't think I am. But I think I could've been perceived that way by being so disassociated, so dead inside, so unaware, so shattered, so weird that everything was a tremendous struggle for me. Oh, and quite more naive to things than most adds even more to the complexities I've been navigating. Because, given my age and the current century, not many understand that I'm kinda like a cave man, outta sync, place, and time.
He: You're over explaining again. Do you feel like you need to justify saying you think you're not a bad person?
She: Yeah, I'm still pretty insecure about how I'm seen or, like, taken...or, mostly, I want people to understand I'm just ... really different.
He: [silently thinking, Oh, they know you're different, sweetie. But you're right on their assumptions, they don't understand your story. How could they? How could anybody?] That's why you make it funny. But you've still got work to do on your opening. You been practicing it lately?
She: No, I still have a hard time seeing myself when I look in the mirror some days. It's hard to remember who I am a lot still. But it's getting easier.
He: And more clear. And happening more often. Have you done any rehearsing as you fall asleep?
She: When I'm not lost in longing, yes, definitely.
He: Ah, yes, the longing. It's from spending so much of your life with CPTSD amnesia among other things. You are recalling the things you missed because you couldn't be present when they were happening. That's part of the healing too.
She: Yeah, it does get confusing and makes me wanna run away again.
He: You're figuring out what keeps you steady now, aren't you?
She: Some things. Things are slow some days. Those are when I heal the most and feel the most whole and present. But that madness, that running girl, well, she tempts me to keep up with her.
He: Are you able to talk to her directly yet?
She: No, but I'm learning how to calm her down.
He: You're getting there. I'm so proud for you. Keep up the good work, sweetie.
She: Always. [she winks]
its just not full like it used to be.
and he still loves you and hes still holding you closely and youre still warm and safe. but its gone quiet where the life was. maybe you changed or maybe he changed, or maybe it was always like this. you dont feel bored. you just arent happy either. you are nothing, if not waiting.
there is a hunger you cant fill. a sadness only you can feel. he rolls over in his sleep and you feel like a villain in a movie, destroying something beautiful and soft. so you stay.
you try and make it comfortable, the in between. the bedroom of his mums apartment with the lights off. you know you dont want this to be forever but slowly, slowly. it becomes.
you will wake up next to him one day. this time, in the bedroom of your own apartment. there are two silver rings, a dining set and throw blankets. it was never too late. it was just never the right time, either. its difficult to regret. its harder not to.
Hey cynical and disabled folks, how can I support my fellow community members without shoving positivity in your face?
I want to support you without pushing my beliefs and my worldview onto you.
I know that what helps me may not help others, so I want to ask: how can I better support my fellow disabled folk?