I don’t even know anything anymore. I want to say that I finally know what is going on with me, but I don’t. I’m a mess. My theory is that somehow I’ve started processing trauma relating to my parents, but it’s burried so deep and it started so early, that I literally have no way to express it.
I feel lost. My body is doing whatever, I’m sick every day, often several times a day, at this point it has become my new normal. It’s not fun. Also I sometimes start randomly shivering with cold. And thenI feel super hot. My sleep is all over the place. It feels like I’m fighting something, but I’m not physically ill.
Emotionally, it’s even worse. I function every day, but I feel empty. I have zero motivation to do anything. And then I have outburst of anger. Or crying. But nothing seems real. I feel so detached from everything. I thought that crying would help, because it did in the past. I would cry and the emotions would get out and I would be better. But these past months, it’s not working. I cry, but it doesn’t bring relief, nothing really does. And before you think it, no, I’m not pregnant. I wish I was, but that’s for another day.
I guess it makes sense in a way though. My therapist said that kids start to understand things way earlier than they have words to express or name emotions. So when something happens, even though I don’t remember, my brain does, my emotional memory does. But I don’t have words to name it or process it, because when it was written in my brain, I didn’t have words for it. And since I allowed myself slowly this year to just feel emotions and don’t supress them all the time, all the anger and pain my parents caused started to surface in full force.
The worst part is, I can’t accept help. My husband tries to be helpful and supportive, but it’s not working. I hate myself so much, with such force, I hate the fact that I even exist. I despise everything. And I can’t accept his kindness, having anybody be kind to me is… it makes me lash out, badly. I have never been good at accepting help or support from people, I have trouble with people saying they love me or being kind to me. I usually just brush it aside or make a joke or something like that. So him being kind and wanting to help is hurting me. Literally. It’s fucked up, but it is what it is.
Last week my therapist told me that she’s really sorry I’m going through this. And I felt nothing. Sure, it was nice to hear, but it didn’t touch me. I thought it would make me cry, but no. Nothing, nada. It’s… weird. And sad. And confusing. And it’s making me angry, because I kinda get where it all started.
Last night, I ended up crying on the bathroom floor. I didn’t want to wake up my husband, not that he would be upset, but I just couldn’t. It was late and let’s face it, he’s the one earning money, he needs to sleep. I cried, because I felt lost. I feel like dead weight, just slowing everyone down. Because I want to be better for him so badly, but I don’t know how. I’m nearing thirty and this is so not what I envisioned my life to be at this point. I see my friends having lives I thought I would have by now. I feel like such a let-down.
It’s not great.