Breaking the Cycle
~finally choosing life again~
It can get frustrating to read the lists of accomplishments others have made while I stayed stuck in this mental cage, barely able to go outdoors unless I have my “safe” person beside me. Even then, everything outside feels foreign.
I can’t look into anyone’s eyes, so I stare at their mouth, trying to understand what they’re saying.
Social interactions feel like a slow, torturous death. My chest tightens up, everything starts spinning, and I feel like I’m sinking. All I can do is pretend to be “normal.” I become reticent, but it works.
I have decided not to attend therapy because I can’t deal with social interactions. I don’t need to pay to be afraid- I can do that for free at home. I spent four years overall in therapy, so it’s not like I haven’t tried. I had to be medicated to deal with my appointments; it seemed ridiculous.
Even though I do not have many social accomplishments or fancy degrees, I need to learn to accept myself for who I am, not for what I do. I must remember that I’m a survivor of many things and do my best.
Sometimes I feel guilty for experiencing pleasure, but I remind myself that I don’t need to feel guilty when I’m feeling well. The cycle of self-punishment still lingers in my mind, and it’s a complex cycle to quit. I recite simple, comforting things in my head to help control my inner dialogue. Things like, “Be gentle with yourself,’ and “take it one moment at a time.” Another thing I say to myself is, “It’s OK, Char Char.” I started saying it while hospitalized, and it helps me self-soothe.
This life brings so many types of journeys. Conquering one’s mental health is just one part of the maze. I am trying to address all aspects of who I am. It feels like it’s for the first time because my mind is not rebelling like before.
Healing previously scared me because I have known trauma since my first moment of existence; it’s all I knew. Sometimes it feels like I have had a very long life because I can remember traumatic experiences from as young as two years old.
I have C-PTSD, where I relive these moments in my mind. They feel almost as vivid as when they happened. I also experience nightmares and need to be medicated for them. It makes any relationship I am in more difficult because I look at them through the eyes of a victim. They become my potential abuser, and I recoil whether I need to or not.
I’m kind of like an abused dog that is waiting for another fight. I fear feeling angry, and I fear confrontation as well. I relish honesty but need to figure out how to take it better than I do. I seem perfectly fine on the outside, but inside, I allow it to affect my self-worth.
While I write about my failures and flaws, others talk about their trips around the world. They chase after their dreams while mine remains halted.
I am not trying to feel sorry for myself. I am trying to identify where the actual problem lies. It probably boils down to my self-worth. I used to hate myself and don’t like to share that with anyone. Maybe releasing it will lessen its power. It’s hard to train my mind to think positively. However, I see improvements happening, and it feels really good. It’s like adding vanilla to anything sweet; it just makes it better. Positivity is power; knowledge is strength.
My husband helps quite a bit by encouraging and trying to understand me. If I get overwhelmed, he asks me, “ How do you eat an elephant?” I say, “ I don’t know”, and he says, “One bite at a time.” I know he did not make up this saying, but I find it helpful when things seem too big to handle. Thankfully, I also look to God for help, knowing I can’t take this life alone.
This journey is not over, and it’s not too late for me to achieve other things if I choose. The good thing to realize is that I have a choice, and I need to remember that my accomplishments do not define my value. Being alive is a miracle itself, and I choose life.
~Thanks for reading!~
Photo by Seth Doyle on Unsplash