Tag Archives: disconnected

Disconnect (dissociation?)

Still feeling so disconnected from any part of the past… It almost feels like “living in the present” taken to an extreme level; nothing from the past holds connection right now.

The furthest I feel connected to is maybe this weekend, but even that’s sketchy.

I don’t know… Hope it resolves in short order.

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I feel like a fraud (derealization, depersonalization)

… i feel like a fraud. It’s not a new feeling. Been struggling with it for so, so long. The depression in high school felt fake because I couldn’t think of a legitimate reason for it (read: blocked out the ickier stuff, and felt the domestic violence at home wasn’t reason enough). Getting into an out-of-state university felt like a pity move on their part; they must have needed to fill a certain quota of out-of-state students, so they let me in. Passing any of my classes at all was both a miracle & a fluke. It was both easy and incredibly difficult. Mental health was nose-diving hard, but for some reason they didn’t kick me out; another pity move on their part. I frequently dissociated weeks or months at a time (landing in the emergency room, or not making it to classes due to major depression), but some part of me showed up and did enough work to get a degree.

After graduation, I’m not totally sure how I landed the jobs I landed, or kept the ones I did. The only one I’m not surprised at is the kennel job. I busted my ass at that, and the animals helped balance me. I don’t know how I convinced my supervisors that I was good at what I was doing, but they seemed to think I was. I even got promoted, and hired away for better jobs with better pay… Still totally baffled by that. It’s such a stark contrast to what my life is currently like… I’m half waiting for L to figure out I’m worthless, and finally run in the other direction.

I can’t hold down a job because stress and physical stuff inevitably takes me down… But almost all my testing comes back “normal”, & I don’t believe my own stories of some of the things I remember. There’s again zero connection to any concept of abuse (until my mind & body reacts to something vaguely reminiscent of something from the past… Then Dr C reminds me that’s how trauma works. But… Then why don’t any of my medical tests confirm this? Even the neuropsych testing pointed to me being prone to exaggeration of the negative due to high levels of depression…).

There’s no conscious connection to any of the stuff I remembered while living in my old house again. It seems fake; like a story line from a book I read long ago. The story line is present in my memory, but the emotional connection isn’t. It can’t be a real memory of real events if there’s no connection to it, right?

Even things that happened in the past decade+, and I have documentation of happening, don’t really feel real. My emotional connection to memories doesn’t seem to last. I have a concept of the relationship with my ex, and there’s physical evidence of it, but it still feels just like a plot from a story I read once. Everything I remember from the past feels like a well-rehersed script. It’s frustrating. It leaves little room for feeling like a real human being (though, as I mentioned in group today, there’s stuff lower than pond scum; I’m that… So, technically, not human).

There’s also a whole lot of shame and embarrassment and… Feeling like I have no right to feel sad around the death of L’s dad 2 years ago today. Part of it stems from G being such an ass around who “truly mattered” (read: #1=him, #1.2 & 1.3 = my brother & I, and everyone else was miles below). It feels like I would fall into the “miles below” category for L’s family, so I have no right to feel anything at all around his death (when in reality, I know L thinks I should feel something. Wants me to admit to feeling something around it). It’s just so difficult to get past that early training sometimes…

I feel so undeserving of taking up space & resources.

Part of me feels strongly that I would benefit from having a service dog trained to mitigate both the mental health stuff, and the physical. When I’m put on the spot and asked to explain my reasoning though, I falter. There are other people out there who really need a service dog to get through their lives. It would just make mine more comfortable. That’s not a good enough reason. I don’t deserve the special considerations, or special accommodations. I’ve gotten through life this far, I should be able to get through the rest of it without asking for special treatment. I don’t deserve it. There are others out there way more deserving than me. Who do I think I am asking for something so huge?! It wasn’t freely offered by someone without prompting, and I’m being entitled for asking. How dare I?!

Old tapes are often impossible to erase…


It feels weird; like part of me is still living back in the space that had me hospitalized so often. I get these little glimpses of remembering being in the hospital, and it feels so real in that flash of a moment. The other times, it feels like I’m living in both times at once, only I’m separated from the past by this frosted window. I know the gist of what’s happening, and I can kinda feel it, but it’s distant and away at the same time. It’s almost like knowing and faintly hearing someone watch a movie in the next room; I can hear it, I know the movie enough to mostly know what’s happening moment to moment, but it’s still something I’m not directly experiencing in the moment. The flashes of memory are like walking through the room for a moment and catching parts of it as I pass the tv. I’m not totally paying attention, but I notice it…

Yeah… kinda like that…

I’ve been remembering the various hospitalizations since Wednesday when Dr C brought up the drawing I left with her a few weeks ago… it’s not all restricted to the content of the drawing; its just all of the experiences mashed together. It’s not linear. It doesn’t really make linear sense, but it’s all memories of those times…

L had an unusually late chemo today, and there were a few times I really had to work to ground myself. I kept panicking that I was there because I was locked up, not because I was supporting L through chemo… being the only ones in the room, and it having gotten dark intensified the fears.

Psych hospitalizations are really dehumanizing. It didn’t matter that you likely already feel like crap; the process and experience make it all that much worse…

I dunno…

I hate when all of this comes up when I can’t actually process it for several days. I don’t know what to do with it. It pulls me in, even when I don’t want it to. I know I’ve been distant and spacey a lot today. I’ve been having a lot of trouble seperating from the memories. My brain is living in both times at once, and it’s distracting (even if I feel like I’m mostly in the present, it’s difficult to concentrate when the past is so “there” but indecipherable…).


Sorry I haven’t been around much lately. Losing Chow has been difficult to adjust to. I’ve been withdrawing into myself, yet, paradoxically, throwing myself into things outside the home. It sounds contradictory, I know. 

I’ve been burying the emotional part of me behind a bombardment of stimuli and activities. There’s rarely a moment when I’m not desperately distracting myself.  I’ve not been doing much by way of art or writing though. It’s been mostly “mindless” stuff, like going to dinner with friends (and avoiding anything other than surface conversation), taking the dogs to the park, that kind of stuff. 

I’ve even avoided taking much in therapy. At least, I have up to now. Today’s session might be different. I’ve started attending a group Dr C put together for adult survivors of [mumble, mumble, mumble]… I still cringe and have a small freak-out moment when I hear the title… we’ve met twice so far. The first one was mostly intros and basic group guidelines. The second one was a bit more topic-oriented around explaining PTSD, the symptoms, and how early abuse plays into it. I was ok for the psychoeducational piece of the group, but struggled to stay present when it turned more into talking about the effects on a personal level. 

I think part of my problem with that comes from the walls I’ve put up around the abuse “memories”. I know I was totally convinced at one point that what I was feeling and experiencing were true, but I’ve detached from that the last several weeks. This last group started stirring things below the surface but they still remain below the surface. 

I dunno. On the one hand, it’s a huge relief to have people that seem to struggle with similar symptoms and experiences. On the other hand, I feel like an interloper. They all seem to know what happened to them, and to connect with it. I’m here still trying to remember what the hell it was that came at me in those flashbacks. I know I struggled a lot with them, but they feel foreign to me at this time. It’s like I watched a movie a long time ago, and can kinda remember the plot, but have no idea of the details. And i’m certainly not connecting to it emotionally…


Defragmentation of drive…

The system will now defragment the drive. This process may take a while. Do you wish to proceed?

I’m kinda wishing there were more warnings about this process. I wish I had more of a choice…

I’m disliking the concept more and more. I can’t seem to function under pressure anymore. I’m getting incredibly flakey in general, but add on any stress and I can’t keep track of details, I fluster easily, I lose my words… it wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to be competent at anything I do, but that’s not the way life goes. Instead of anxiety switching on a backup system that allowed me to do what needed to be done, now anxiety wipes everything. I forget the basics of what needs to be done at work, the things people tell me fly out of my awareness as soon as the words leave their lips… my chest constantly feels like it’s caving in on itself.

This sucks…

Can I go back to airtight containers for everything?

I’m tired of the panic over nothing. I’m tired of the flashbacks. I’m tired of the overwhelming emotions that have no basis in the present. I miss being able to function…


Exhausted

A lot of factors are playing into my mood, mostly the effects of insomnia and a packed schedule…

I’m starting to notice that any time I don’t wholeheartedly agree with Dr C, I feel like I need to apologize profusely and agree to think about what she’s saying in an effort to agree with her. I’m starting to become aware that this is a pattern in the entirety of my life. I worry that the person will be mad at me and I will get in trouble (especially if the person is perceived to have any power over me). With Dr C, I’m hearing echos of not only my dad, but also all the previous providers that have admonished me for not simply acquiescing to whatever suggestions they make. It’s not that Dr C has ever acted like that, but all the past experiences push in on me and I panic that I will get in trouble…

I’m also still really struggling with the effects of last Monday’s therapy session. This Monday, she went over some of it with me. I still couldn’t really connect to the experience. I feel like I wasn’t that present at all this past session. I can’t really remember much of it other than the medication conversation we had (where I disagreed  with her suggestion to try them again). I feel like I should go against my gut and try them again. Maybe this time there would be something that would work? Or maybe this time the impulses would finally become too overwhelming and I’d succeed in the self destruction. I’m not suicidal, but part of me is really tired of the constant struggle. If something happens, then something happens…

Depression is a bitch. It permeates every aspect of my life all the time. A lot of times it’s more quiet about it, but a lot of times it’s also overwhelming. Ideally, I would like to leave it behind and be able to enjoy my life without that constant shadow. The trauma work Dr C and I are doing is helping (so much of the depression is driven by the past). I’m just not sure it’s possible to leave it behind forever. I know people say the depression doesn’t stay horrible forever. I get that it moves in waves, but I wonder how many people can comprehend how utterly unbearable it is when it hits. It’s not simply a lull in life, it’s a loss of all hope and all ability to see any glimmer of true joy. I can smile. I can see happiness in tiny moments. It just hurts so much when it hits. It’s like living with horrific burns all over and knowing you have to live in excruciating pain indefinitely… it sucks, and that’s an immense understatement…

On the plus side, I don’t have much time to myself this week. Dr C suggested I not spend time alone. By coincidence, I work 4 days at the kennel, and we have plans all weekend. I’m also helping my niece with some work over the weekend. The most I’ll be alone all week is Friday when I get a day off from everything… I’m exhausted, but having expectations prevents the self-destruct urges from getting too overwhelming.

Dr C had suggested the triggering and overwhelm are because we are moving too fast in therapy. I’m not really sure how to slow down. The memories and flashbacks come whether or not we cover them in therapy. At least it’s safer to be triggered there than it is randomly at home or at work. At least in session we can talk about what’s coming up. Between sessions, it’s so much more overwhelming…