Not doing ok.
These meds really suck. Went to theory this morning dragging my ass and could not process what was going on in class. Now I’m feeling like shit and thinking i should just withdrawal from the public again. Life is too hard for me. Probably because i was supposed to be dead by now.
Its Saturday and im feeling very worn out and exhausted from just having a panic attack over the filth in the house.
I was vacuuming hair and got so overwhelmed that I was fighting back dry heaves and first, then had to ask Jonas for help organizing my thoughts and cleaning plan, at which point I broke down completely.
Dry heaves, crying I couldn't control, constricted throat. Is that panic attack? Or anxiety attack? At any rate I was just overwhelmed with thoughts of filth and clutter, and saw no way out of it.
Then dark and angry thoughts were piling on and i had to disconnect in order not to explode, although i was getting angrier and angrier.
This makes the second breakdown of the month.
On the 22nd I had a short bout of depression but I don't remember the exact trigger. Mostly feeling terrible about myself after a Theory class a few days before, no doubt. Yes, i think that was it. And then it all spiraled from there. To even feeling crappy about having to take all these medications knowing they're going to put me out, and Im stressing about school work that needs to get down. Then for some reason I just couldn't push through it anymore. Its not like I every denied it... it just all decides to come out.
I know I was having trouble with dissociating and derealizing, running into things and feeling like a husk, and also feeling like the environment i was in, which was the park, wasn't real. This continued for a couple of days where I felt on the verge of having a larger bout of depression.
Was it burnout?
Ive also sacked my counselor. He was a douchebag. The basic story is that he stood me up our second session. Ok, I can let that go. The third session, knowing that its going to get intense and feeling like I had to put a wall up for my own safety of emotions and mind, I suppose I came off as angry. I walked into the office, he's asking me questions but im distracted making sure my phone is off. At some point he starts talking about false beliefs we have about ourselves. I know what he meant but he put it in a weird way that I asked for clarification. Then he totally turned it around on me making him feel like crap and "self conscious"... a false belief about himself.
None of what he said had anything to do with false beliefs we have related to trauma. Instead he turned it around to ME making HIM feel bad about HIMSELF.
The story he gives:
You looked mad when you first walked in and I was wondering well is Monica mad at me? Did i forget the schedule again? What did I do to make her mad? And now Im feeling self conscious. Or i could think, poor monica doesn't seem happy, maybe she had a hard night, etc.
WTF does that have to do with trauma and false beliefs? That had to do with mindreading and making assumptions. He totally turned it around on me to make me a bad guy. So I've sacked his fat ass. (Nov 1) He seems like his life is a shambles and his fat ass isn't even healthy, so why would i trust him to help get me own life in order. ive trusted my red flags
The event I am, considering, as being the worst is the very first one that I can bring to my memory. It was a very very early memory of violence, and or the threat of violence on display. Also, it was the first memory experiencing absolute terror.
Why do I think this occurred? The most straightforward and logical explanation would be because my father was unstable, and my mother was codependent. The cause of this event was probably jealousy, emotional, dysregulation, snap anger, … etc.
This event was so foundational I believe it started me on a path of being constantly on edge. I learned not to trust the people around me who were supposed to protect me. I learned that I have no power to protect myself. I learned how to keep hanging on to a bad situation, and hoping it was going to get better only to find that it never actually got better. I learned that the people around me who were supposed to protect me. We’re not actually safe people to be around. I learned how to withdraw from the world and be safe in my own imagination, and in my own escapisms. I learned I wasn’t really important to those same individuals who were tasked with raising me. As a result, I didn’t really ever have a close emotional bond to them even though I desperately wanted one.
Stuck points:
