We are at the end of week 7 and I do not seem to have settled into any sort of comfortable place. I find myself becoming quite overwhelmed over the smallest things leading me to spiral into quite dark places.
Most days, out of nowhere, I get this sense that it would be better if I just gave up. Some days I’m not even sure if the part of me that wants to stay alive is winning anymore. I reach out to T because I feel like he is the only one who gets me but I’m not even sure what it is that I really want from him.
It’s actually an incredibly difficult place to find oneself in. Wanting to feel better but not being able to ask for what you need because you don’t even really know what you’re looking for. Descending into the deep pit of despair where you don’t even know if you have the strength to pull yourself out of anymore. Frustrated because you try so hard to do things for yourself but you still feel like you’re asking for help all the time. Wondering if others find you as needy as you find yourself.
And therapy? Therapy does not feel safe or secure or even…what’s the right word…sustainable at the moment. And I know I shouldn’t complain because at least I still have contact. At least I can still hear the sound of T’s voice. But there’s just something missing. I can’t read him. I need to see his face, his eyes. I need to see him breathe. Because no matter how hard we try I cannot feel safe through a telephone.
There is just this deep, deep sadness that I feel all the time and I find myself withdrawing. I find myself distancing. Whatever this is, I’ve left it to sit there…and it’s built. It keeps building and it always hurts. Even when I don’t feel it at all. I need to get it what it needs but I don’t seem to know how.
I am told that all of these things are because of trauma. I get that everything happened a long time ago. Part of me definitely gets that. And I guess it’s why I feel so frustrated. Because it was a long time ago and it feels like it just should stay there…not follow me all the time.
That’s the hard part. It always follows me. All of the time. How are you supposed to be able to keep surviving when it just never goes away? And T tells me that I’ve already survived, but I sometimes wish I didn’t.
So often I feel like I am not even human anymore-just a ghost passing through existence-feeling as though I am nothing.