Dalloway´s Recovery Journal

[Dalloway]

Thank you my friends, indeed I feel much lighter as SenseOrgan put it.

But the paradox of it is that by being able to be more open and accepting to the world I also feel more pressure on my shoulders. Now I can feel the weight of the life I´ve led so far and in many aspects continue to lead. The heaviness of not being able to move freely in space, of having certain roads I walk, as if my life was some sort of choreographed theatre. All the ways I behave that count as tolerable and acceptable by people around me, the box I was squeezed into, which I cannot move in. I find myself very frustrated for having to live like this.

Something inside me is seeking freedom, free movement, free thinking, free speaking, free existing. But the costume I´m in feels so tight that I feel like I cannot breathe. And the freedom inside me is terrified of this small cell of a life I´m living in. It doesn´t want to live this way. It wants to be understood, to be able to get it´s voice heard. It wants to be known by the world, by people and most importantly by itself.

Many times I feel like an empty shell, like a ghost, walking around in what I perceive as a false world where everything is false because of my lack of connection to it. Because nobody really knows me and I can´t really express who I am. That´s why everything feels so empty and fake. I want to be real and want to feel, just like Frankenstein´s creature wanted to. And in a way I think I already am, but the armour is too tight. It´s uncomfortable. I can´t move, can´t breathe as fully as I´d like to. Or maybe I´m just a little crab that needs her shell changed. I´m just too scared to go to the shore to look for one.

[Marcine]

"Change happens when the pain of holding on becomes greater than the fear of letting go."
-Spencer Johnson

Dalloway, your ever-growing awareness, desire for freedom, self-expression, sharing ideas, making your voice heard... You are in the process of growing.

And naturally with growth comes change, new, unknown, infinite possibilities.

You are on the path.
On your path.
What better place to be?

[HannahOne]

Dalloway, I imagine a lot of us can relate to this: "walking around in what I perceive as a false world where everything is false because of my lack of connection to it. Because nobody really knows me and I can´t really express who I am. That´s why everything feels so empty and fake." I know I can relate. For me this kind of derealization and depersonalization was almost constant when I was younger. It took time to expand my lungs, find bigger shells, approach the shore. I had to scuttle around a lot. The fact that you can feel the tightness shows that you are alive, aware, and at the right time for you, will unfold into your next shell.

I happen to have a hermit crab right now, my kid "rescued" him from a pet store where he was languishing. His name is "Hermy." Very creative! When I got him he was cramped into a too small shell. I bought him several larger shells, and lo and behold, I came to see him the next day and he had chosen a larger one. I worried about him because he mostly sat there. I kept wondering if he's ok. Why is he not exploring, is he unhappy? When I pick him up, and he puts out his antennae. I researched it and it turns out he seems to be molting! He may look like he's not doing anything and just sitting, but he's actually busy creating a larger skin, now that he's found a larger shell to use as a shelter. He's in the process of becoming, just like you.

[NarcKiddo]

Stage one - realise the current shell is too small. Check.
Stage two - acknowledge other shells are out there. Check.

I'm sure there are plenty of other stages before you get comfortable, and sometimes being uncomfortable is also comfortable because it's familiar. But I reckon you'll find a lovely new shell to move into when the time is right. As others have said - you are on the way.

[Dalloway]

There is much sorrow coming with looking for a different kind of shell. The act of letting go and selecting the things that can be useful from your past/present comes with all the memories and flashbacks and regrets and missed (?) chances. Most of the time I feel like something´s missing. Don´t know exactly what or in which area but there´s this emptiness that comes from all the scarcity of the trauma. This scares me a lot. And it´s, again, absurd how I have all these traits and behaviours and pieces that are all part of someone breathing, moving, living in this world, a Dalloway of hopes and tears, fears and laughter.

And hence it´s soo complex to even think about it all, I´ve got a constant feeling or belief that I simply cannot make myself understood. How could I do that with all the stuff in the baggage? But I can´t help but try. I play this game of bingo because I don´t have a better idea. Most of the time I don´t even know what I´m doing. Fake it till you make it I guess.

This is so weird sometimes. Trying to find my place in the world, battling with all the absurdity of my existence, trying to keep my head above the water. I don´t know if it leads anywhere but there´s no other way to find out just to do it. Life feels like a constant change of shells. I have a collection of them that is expanding almost every day. There´s always a new one to try on. Some of it I keep for future use or just because I can´t let go, some go right to the trashcan.

It´s a never ending process of metamorphosis.

[HannahOne]

Dalloway, when I read your post I thought, it's true---no shell can ever contain us really. We use different shells at different times for different purposes. In my own case I gave up on finding the perfect end-all be-all shell once and for all... we are too big for that, too complex. And, it's important and useful to have a shell, if one is a vulnerable crustacean! Shells are useful to interact with the world, in different roles. They are protective and we need protection.

A shell hides what is inside, but that doesn't mean your shell is empty... you're in there! It's just hard to know who we are or find our edges when we have grown up with neglect, absence, loss, emotional invalidation, abuse. When we have not been seen and heard, and not been understood. The relentless feeling of not being able to be understood is a symptom of our trauma and that much I do understand. It resonates with me. I feel that feeling. The not being able to be understood itself helps me to understand just a tiny bit about what it's like to be Dalloway.

I think of the hermit crabs on the beach, carrying their shell. A wave comes and they get washed out, have to keep their heads above water, have to get back to the sand... carry on their crab life. Meanwhile they are growing, molting, transforming and becoming. Necessitating new shells, new ways to move and carry it. Their baggage is beautiful, spiny, shiny, or rounded whorls.

It's true that I can't really understand entirely the crab and its experience. It's life is its own. I can appreciate its beauty, determination, the integrity of its life and choices. I can resonate with it empathically, even if I don't understand all the details, even if all I see is a little claw sticking out of the shell. I know he's in there, being himself, doing his work, and for that I have great admiration, a feeling of awe and connection. I'm over here in my shell doing my work, too. In that small way we are together.

[dollyvee]

Hey Dalloway,

Again your writing brings me back to who I was in university, trying to figure myself out and what had happened. I think the many shells analogy is a good way to look at it. To me, looking back, I don't think there was any easy answer, or "right" way to do things, that one thing that was going to give me the life that I imagined, or the one that I had lost. I have been dropping myself into things and trying to figure it out as I go for 25 years now and realize how far I have come. I do have things that I like, a better understanding of who I am, but that too, is still evolving.

It's your life, you get to live it as you want to and that's not selfish.

Sending you support,
dolly

[Dalloway]

Feeling extremely anxious today. The school is about to start and it brought up a huge amount of anxiety about my future. I´m so afraid of not being able to heal and that my scars will always stand in the way of my happiness and fulfillment. I´m scared that I won´t be able to find equanimity that is necessary to do the job of a social worker. And most of all, I´m afraid of finding out that I´m doing this only to heal myself. I know that would break my heart. I´m afraid of my own voice and thoughts.

That´s it. I´m just very scared today.

[Marcine]

Hi Dalloway,
From one fearful human to another, I say hi friend 

I see your courage in recognizing those fears you wrote about.

I relate to the seemingly endless landscape of deep fear. For me, the more I meditate and write and meet the fears, the more I see them up close and in technicolor. Is this easier? I'm not sure. Certainly terrifying and daunting at times.

I do like consciously facing them head on, less likely for them to sneak up on me and pounce. Shining a light into the darkness and all that.

In seeing the fears, recognizing them, I find there is the chance to release them bit by bit. I have some experience with that. It seems to be a process— repetitive and gradual.

I respect your ability to name the fears.

At least for now, I know I'm not alone and I hope you can feel less alone too.

[HannahOne]

Dalloway, I hear that you are feeling extremely anxious as school is starting.

Your questions sound like the questions of a responsible student of social work. Questioning your motives, your ability, your desire to do the job, these are psychological questions that a therapist would be interested in and compelled to seek answers to.

Questioning oneself can be part of self-reflection. Self-doubt is also part of any endeavor. Can I, do I want to, will I, am I doing it for the "right" reasons, what is it I really want when I want to be a social worker? These are important questions to lean into.

It makes so much sense that these questions would come up now, as school resumes.

You may not have the answers right now, but you are living the questions day by day, and the answers will unfold. Whatever the truth is, you will face it and adjust your course accordingly.

[SenseOrgan]

Hi Dalloway, that's proper anxiety alright. I'm sorry you're going through this.

I appreciate your honesty in acknowledging what lives inside. This is a huge factor in being a skilled social worker, without a doubt. What you do to heal feeds into that.

The best therapists I worked with showed up with their humanity. Their realness was a lot safer than how their "textbook" colleagues presented themselves. You know what it is to suffer. You have a PhD in it. That is education too. Please don't underestimate your own value, that of your informal education, your humannness, and emotional maturity.

You don't need to be "fixed" first. You can be a wounded healer, like so many people are. Sure, a certain base is necessary to do the job. You're working very hard on that, and have been for a long time. I understand the despair that can come with this when anxiety hijacks you once more. You are more than this though. There will be more space in your mind to see that after the hijack. It's pushing dark thoughts right now, which are a projection of your current state onto the future. It's not the future. It's what's happening now: thoughts and pysical sensations. Right now, is there more to do than relating to that the best way you know how to? With a little help from your friends? I think it's great you shared this with us. I hope some connection will land in your system soon.

You can grow into things. When I did an internship, my mentor said that one education stops after graduating and another one starts when you start your job. Great attitude! This is not a black and white matter. If, for some reason, things don't work out the way you had hoped, you can deal with it if it becomes reality. Many people end up in a different spot than what they have diploma's for. It's not necessarily something bad. Life is messy. Good luck. You're in my thoughts and heart.

Much love 

[TheBigBlue]

Dalloway, I hear you and really feel for you. And I love that three friends here in ZG3 have already come alongside you, each holding up a little flashlight to help shine some light into that dark unknown.

The best therapist I have met has been open about having CPTSD herselves. No matter how hard the sessions got, I didn't feel alone with her — kind of like I don't feel alone in ZG3 and on this forum.

I hope your first day went okay. And then the next, and the next. You are brave for naming these fears so clearly. They are very real fears, but they are not predictions of your future.

[NarcKiddo]

I hope you are feeling a little less scared now and that it was some help to write your fears here and receive support from people who care about you.

[Dalloway]

There is a huge amount of grief in me. I´m grieving many things from my childhood, but most of all the disconnection from the whole world and all the people in it. It pains me to think about this original rapture and loss even before my life had a chance to start. I was cursed to grow up feeling isolated and alone in this world, loathing all the people who failed to save me and see me.

My journey started with emotional neglect. My mother couldn´t be there for me emotionally. She only knew how to take care of my basic needs, but failed to provide all the nurturance and protection that a baby needs. She wasn´t my mirror, she wasn´t my window to the outside world. Desperate in my loneliness and confused by the lack of input, I became an anxious and scared person. She couldn´t teach me how to live amongst people, how to interact with them. So I learned that this world is a dangerous, wicked place.

Then came the physical abuse. It taught me that the world is indeed a dangerous place and the worst comes from the people you let the closest to you. Without a compassionate witness, I figured that it´s my fault that those things were happening to me. I internalized shame and a sense of worthlessness.

The third ingredient was my mother´s constant catastrophizing language and her practice of scaring us to death with horror stories about people wanting to hurt us and take us away from her. Danger was lurking behind every corner of the world. There was no safe space for us. The floor was lava. The people were the volcanic stones that burned you if you let them touch you.

All my life I´ve been living in isolation, far from people physically and mentally. I got used to it so bad that now I find it hard to find my way back to them. I don´t even need them, right? I can provide for myself. They are only trouble after all. They are dangerous and hateful and will certainly hurt me if I let them too close. It happened before, so why risk it? This has been the story of my life for the most part of my first three decades of life. Neglect and abuse mixed with a grain of catastrophe, á la my mother.

I find it hard to connect to people. They scare me. Their weakness pisses me off. There´s much learned hatred blurring my vision. I need to be strong to feel protected. This is my safe space. My strength and self-sufficiency.

I write this because I got to a point in my life where I feel like I have to lean towards something else. Towards rewiring the patterns and rewriting my story - or at least the continuation of it. Something´s wrong with this picture someone painted to me. The moment I started to question the story, it all started to crumble. I know it´s hard to change those things in your mind. But I believe that I don´t have to get rid of them. I just need to start painting my own picture, with the colours and the technique I want. Not anyone else. Me.