My Own Worst Enemy

I have so many deadlines and projects going on that it’s almost a circus around here. Yet I’m just sitting here on this fine Sunday afternoon staring into space and thinking about what I should be doing instead of actually doing them. (Where’s the fun in that?!?) *Things* are dancing around in my head. Not physical things, although I’m beginning to think that would be easier. More like all these little antagonising thoughts.

Until rather recently, I could just stuff these thoughts before they really made a dent in my consciousness. At first, I wasn’t even really aware of them at all. Yes, I’ve always known that my background is a little…em…unconventional, but the emotional and psychological ramifications of that hadn’t yet crossed my mind. Getting there was long process.

It started with learning the correct terms for emotions. And I mean really basic stuff that most people learn when they’re quite young. I knew words like ‘anger’ or ‘sadness,’ but they had absolutely no meaning. It was like hearing a word in a foreign language used repeatedly– you begin to recognise the sound, but you still don’t know the meaning.

Once my emotional vocabulary had expanded sufficiently, I had to learn how to identify these things as I felt them. That happened through relating emotions to physical things. Anger was a pain on one side of my head. Sadness was pressure in the centre of my chest. I stayed at that stage for a very long time. To make a long story at least somewhat shorter, I learned to acknowledge these feelings internally, and then say them aloud. Nothing drawn out– I’d just turn to my best friend from time to time and say, in a very flat (and, in hindsight, hilarious) tone that I was angry or whatever was going on at that moment. Finally, and I never thought this would have been possible, I learned to express some of these feelings in a very reserved fashion that came frighteningly close to appropriate.

So much for that.

A couple of weeks ago there was a shift in my thought process. I’m aware of the shift and, in part, aware of the internal person who orchestrated it. Now it just feels safer to keep these little internal battles just that– internal. It’s become hard to acknowledge things externally again, but unlike before, I still feel them internally. Lovely little dilemma there that ends with my feeling miserable but not being able to communicate that at all. Back to that ‘physical things would be easier’ bit– it all leads to insomnia, migraines, and a whole host of physical fun. I guess different is a better word than easier.

The thing of it is, my problems, especially the grief issues, are not new. There have been no late and great changes, no exciting new developments, and there aren’t likely to be any time soon. Talking about things, then, seems a bit pointless. What can I say to those close to me that hasn’t already been said? Still, I seem to have this bizarre need to keep talking. (This is a crap time of year for me, so my posts of late have been bleak to say the least.)

So here’s the great debate, and I’m guessing other survivors have faced this as well– how do you deal with the issues that don’t seem to change? Part of me (and I mean that in a non-DID sense) says it’s ok to talk about these things. Part of me says it’s time to stop leaning on everyone for support and deal with things on my own for once. And yet another part of me says these issues should just be put away again.

I feel like scolding them– bad emotions! Back in your boxes! Years ago my brother-of-choice joked that he thought the British would have bred them out by now. Apparently we’re still working on that one. 🙂

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