Living As All of Me

[SenseOrgan]

Look at you go HannahOne! Fantastic to witness, even through text. Go team life!     

[Blueberry]

Hannah1, i find your post from July 27 really inspiring! Also the title for your journal, it fits with my own healing journey.

I find intake paperwork or even just questions where I get to answer orally really difficult to the point of emotionally exhausting. That's probably the same as triggering. I am getting better at them, but then I have been doing them off and on for a long time.

[HannahOne]

Well....

Thank you, Blueberry and SenseOrgan, for reading and cheering.

I am ashamed to say I did not go to the wildlife rehab. And I spent much of the day in bed.

What is going on?

Part of me is scared. Part of my is embarrassed. Part of me is hypercritical.

Maybe this is an opportunity to consider more what integration means. This is the biggest problem I have across all my life, and it's a very human problem, it's just much more pronounced in me: I do the things I don't want to do. And I don't do the things I want to do.

I'm just so state dependent. In one state I am crystal clear. I talk such a good talk. Or walk such a good walk. In some states I can paint like no other. I'm amazing! In other states, I sob just looking at the brush. In some states I know I want to go out and explore. In other states, I call out with an excuse that doesn't even make sense and then stare for hours.

I have worked to become more aware of what state I'm in. I've worked to have more of a handle on moving between states, on regulation, on grounding. I've worked to help my states communicate, to tolerate more than one state at a time, to both not want to go to the wilidfe rehab while also going and remembering that part of me thought it was important and will be very upset if I blow it up...

And it's such a working in progress. AFGE. Another ___ growing experience. Part of me is so FRUSTRATED. Wants PROGRESS. Whatever that is? It's not progress if All of Me cannot sustain the insights, cannot sustain the awareness, cannot regulate enough emotionally to do what the insights and awareness propose.

How can I get better? Despair.

I can remember that, so far, it doesn't matter if I don't show up. If they fire me they fire me. And, there are things about it that are triggering and maybe too triggering. Working with the squirrels was good. But it's not squirrel season, so now most of my time is spent cutting the heads off meal worms and packing cups with frozen mice. I just don't have a strong stomach, a strong soul for it. It's why I dropped out of pre-vet studies. So it's possible this is not the right fit. It's also true I've become scared socially of the bosses, scared of not knowing what I should be doing, generally afraid. But some of that might be the triggers of the dead creatures.

I can not catastrophize. I'm disappointed in myself, and, oh well.

I can get up and try again tomorrow. And the next day. And keep trying. ?  Part of me is so tired. So so so so so tired of this "trying" thing. Trying what, why? What am I doing? How is any of this worth it? Here comes the skeptic and the existential questions that have no answer....

I don't know what so dysregulated me this morning other than it was early morning and I couldn't make a good decision.

And also, the only part of me that wants to go is the part that wants a job, wants to be productive, wants progress. And that part cannot override the parts that are turned off to it now, maybe because of the death, maybe because the social situation started to feel too scary, maybe because of the boss with her "that look on your face" comment.... does it really matter? I just don't like it anymore.

I am sad to leave, and unsure what to do next. It's hard not to put it in the "another thing HannahOne failed to do" column. But it was only ever an experiment and I learned some things. I learned I can do tasks and learn routines, I learned I like doing things with my hands and not so much thinking, I learned I like some social structure. What didn't work is major lack of clarity about my tasks, that it started at 8 am when I'm not able to really make good decisions that early, that squirrel season ended and also the boss that was my boss went out for surgery 5 weeks ago? And without her I felt quite lost. And all the death.

his is what being All of Me looks like, I can't just imagine something I want to do and then do it, I have to learn, try, explore, negotiate, and accept if something doesn't work even if part of me really wants it to, if only out of pride. Pride goeth before, and all of that.

Ah, the highs and lows, the ups and downs, as I tell my kids. NBD. Carry on, HannahOne. Tomorrow a man comes to the house to fix various things. A nice triggering event! Let's see how that goes. And I need to schedule a few appointments. T And look online for more volunteer opportunities to try. Try, try, try again.

[Blueberry]

  
 

I resonate with your post so so much. The number of things I've planned to do, even wanted to do in the last weeks, but then stayed in bed or went back to bed... It seems to be part and parcel of cptsd for some of us. As is feeling ashamed, for many of us in fact. So, at least you're not alone and can maybe feel some comfort there?

[HannahOne]

Blueberry, I'm sorry to hear you struggle with this kind of thing too! I find it so FRUSTRATING.

What is it about CPTSD that causes this? It's a lot of emotional flashbacks, I think. That's the "state-dependent" thing. Is that it? Well, also avoidance. And hyperarousal....and the disturbance in self-organization: the dissociation, negative self-concept, relationship struggles (the boss!). UGH.

Ugh ugh ugh. UGH!!!!! 

Frank, have mercy. Frank was served a giant pile of dandelion leaves, and then literally leaped into the air and came down on his side, immediately asleep.. He flings himself around in the most hysterical manner. FLING! He switches from one state to another so smoothly, from alert, to chewing, to pausing chewing to listen, back to chewing, to asleep, suddenly AWAKE! and on all fours.... how does he do this sorcery? Why do I not have such a gearshift inside?

I know I am avoiding the wildlife center because I got scared socially, about the shoe covers but more about the boss, not knowing her name, and her comment, and not knowing what I should be doing... I just could not make myself face it today. Next two weeks my kids' schedule interferes....I don't know. I know I am hyper vigilant when there. And struggling with the relationships, feeling surreal. Dissociating. Having emotional flashbacks, hiding and feeling like I'm going to be punished. Part of me thinks that's ridiculous. I can see how absurd it is, how it is a prediction error. Yet my nervous sysqtem does what it does and my prefrontal cortex just can't reason with it. And I do think the dead animals are triggering. Taking a deep breath involves breathing in the smell of dead animals, meat, guts.... noticing my environment involves seeing the worm squirm away while my job is to kill it... I think it is too triggering, I can't be present, I don't WANT To be grounded there. I'm sad because I loved feeding the squirrels and cleaning their cages. It's just that's not all of the job and now it's none of it. The others who work there are literally former physicians, or animal control officers, or pre-vet students, one said she LIKED gross things.... I need to try the library next, I guess. I'm sad.

Frank, have mercy.

[HannahOne]

One thing that went wrong about not going to the wildlife center is I failed to take into account All of Me. I didn't step back and listen to what different parts of me were feeling. I just got into a conflict, GO vs NO. And then one side won.

what I would prefer to do is negotiate. Listen to all sides. Seek common interest. Compromise.

I don't want to face the day again. I Want to be unconscious and stay in bed. It's already late.

What is this? Part of me wants to live, wear clothes, meet people, try. Part of me wants to be unconscious.

What comes to mind doesn't seem like an answer but we must follow every thread. I was my mother's therapist growing up. Waking up I recalled being around three and she gave me her childhood doll. She grew up very poor so any toy was very special. And as we went about our errands, I lost it. I have no memory of losing it. What I remember is her dragging me store to store to ask about it, and it not turning up. She was so bitterly angry and sad at me. I couldn't contain it and was numb and floaty, guilty and ashamed, self-hating and horrified at my selfishness, at the pain I had caused.

Why did this memory come back to me now? I've always had it, I've talked about it before in therapy.

Growing up listening to her horrible memories made her useless to me, she was the child and I had to the the adult. I was born into this guilt for having it better than her, and I did, even though there was still not enough food and no mothering, what I had was better than what she had, I had toys, and my father didn't hit me. Only my mother did. I had it better. There was a guilt I could never make up for, just my existence was like a thorn in her side, even though she said I was her sunshine, apparently I did not shine enough to make her reliably wake up and make food.

She was always in bed. Wanting to be unconscious.

I never did this in bed behavior until the pandemic when it was forced isolation. The forced isolation was a huge trigger. As a child I Was totally isolated until I went to school. Even doing the pandemic, I got up to make the kids their meals, if they were around I was up. I never wanted them to see me that way.

The other memory that came to me is sitting by the sliding glass door with my dog in the apartment, looking out at the lights. Wanting to go out,, knowing people were out there living their lives and their lives were so different than mine, I knew from TV they had tables full of food, lights on, people talking.

So there's a part of me that takes my mother's place of staying in bed, that thinks it's better to be unconscious and let life pass you by, it hurts less that way. It's a way of not being here, of being somewhere else, without actually leaving. And there's a part of me that longs to go out, to be somewhere else in a different way, to engage with life, that wants to go find someplace else to be.

But neither of those is being here. Both the staying in bed and the going out are ways to be somewhere else. The idea of not engaging and engaging are both... ideas of things I. might do, conditional possibilities.

How to be here now? Where am I now? Who am I right now? I'm in bed, but trying. What is trying? I'm reflecting, I'm mentalizing, I'm trying to be attuned to what's going on inside. Trying to negotiate a compromise. But both sides in a way are wanting the same thing, to flee. They just disagree on how to flee and which one costs more, is worth it, etc.

I'm not my mother's therapist anymore. I dont' speak to her.

I'm sorry I lost the doll. I think I was already so dissociated I probably was barely aware I was ever holding it.

I could never make up for her childhood. I couldn't be her sunshine. I am not nuclear fission. I am a person. I don't have the gravity to keep her in orbit around me. And she insisted I orbit around her, which is not what the sun does. I was in an impossible position.

I feel in an impossible position. It's impossible to get up. It's impossible to go to the wildlife center. There's also a hopelessness about all of it, I know neither one matters or will make difference. Will make it different. Will make me different. There's an underlying futility to "Trying." Because YAY, I tried, and then BOO, I gave up, and then YAY... there's an underlying futility to "progress."

I guess we're talking about acceptance.

And presence. How willing can All of Me be to be here now?

Not too very. Everything is a trigger. The dishes in the sink and the clothes on the floor make me feel like I'm neglected and also I'm my mother, I'm not functioning, I'm ashamed. No matter what I do I'm both me and my mother. But this part doesn't know adult life is complicated, and until yesterday I was not in bed, I was out 6 straight days and more painting, friending, taking care of kids and being a taxi, cooking meals, which makes dishes and clothes and I've done both dishes and clothes daily, they just add up because I'm doing them for four people...

I will get up and create a little more order in the environment. Part of me will be very pleased to do that. Part of me will do it anxiously to hide the evidence that I'ma bad person who has dishes in the sink/can't manage. And then I will sit at the table and work on the art project. All of Me wants to do that, even though it's worrying what might be revealed.

First I need to eat. Always the food, fear of not enough food, fear of eating food, fear of not being a sunshine made of light, fear of having gravity, of being solid. Frank, have mercy. He chews his leaf with vigor, so strong is his drive to live, he has no thought of not eating. He eats voraciously as if the carpet is a threat, as if his plush life depends on him consuming every last available leaf... and it does. His body knows it needs to eat. Eat a Lot of vegetable material to get enough protein to make the muscles to keep his heart pumping.... it's all about staying alive. For what? Is it worth it? These are questions better not asked, according to Frank. The questions themselves are the thorn. Don't eat the thorns. Eat around them. Mmmmmm.... green leaves, with the sunshine pouring in the window. He once ate straw and drank from a moldy bowl, but he doesn't think of it, now. Just eats his leaves with seriousness and the gravity it deserves, the serious, delicious act of staying alive.

[HannahOne]

Life has a funny way. I walked the dogs and came back to a package. Don't remember ordering? Opened it. Pink pants. Pink silk pants with a little nick at the cuff, a little split detail. They're not gonna fit.... they fit. Fabulous. I went on a hunt on Postmark a week ago, I forgot. Oh yeah! I'm wearing pink silk pants and a denim top to do the dishes and I'm feeling fine, I'm dead serious about these dishes, and the delicious food I'm going to put on them in about twenty minutes.

The spell can be so easily broken. I want to know more who is casting the spell and why. My silk pants rustle when my thighs move. Oh yeah. Gonna put on "Only You" by the Flying Pickets. All I needed was the love you gave, all I needed for another day, and all I ever knew... only you. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgDKtLPp46s

[Hope67]

 

[sanmagic7]

AFGE. Another ___ growing experience.

reading this, hannah1, my first thought is this is EXACTLY what progress is.  being able to recognize a growing experience - that's a big deal.  thinking about and recognizing what might and what might not be good for you to do or take on - these are all signs of progress.  i think a lot of times we aren't able to recognize the progress cuz the expectations for us from others have all been so big, so overwhelming, so inexplicable, and so impossible too many times.  those kinds of expectations sat in our brains and were consistently reinforced so that we aren't even able to  recognize progress when we see it if it isn't some kind of grand gesture or accomplishment.

your thought processes are so wonderful in my perspective.  i do hope you can eventually see them for what they are - signs of progress.  you're doing it.  love and hugs

[Blueberry]

I can get up and try again tomorrow. And the next day. And keep trying. ?  Part of me is so tired. So so so so so tired of this "trying" thing. Trying what, why? What am I doing? How is any of this worth it? Here comes the skeptic and the existential questions that have no answer....

This is part of what I so strongly resonate with. Also planning to do things (like you going to the wildlife rehab) and then not going. Decades ago I was so reliable! If I said I was going to turn up, I did. Not so now.

Some of this, for me, I put under Depression, which is one of my major comorbidities. But otoh I also think this thing I call depression is more than depression. It is not helped much by taking my anti-deps. I think it is intrinsically mixed up with my version of cptsd. Something I learned/copied from a parent/developed as a survival skill as a child. A child. Not a teen. I presume that all or almost all of my Inner Selves carry depression to some degree. If that doesn't resonate with you, that's OK, please ignore.

And also, the only part of me that wants to go is the part that wants a job, wants to be productive, wants progress. And that part cannot override the parts that are turned off to it now, maybe because of the death, maybe because the social situation started to feel too scary, maybe because of the boss with her "that look on your face" comment.... does it really matter?

I also resonate strongly with this, most especially the BBM bit. I don't know if the part of me that wants to be productive is the only part of me that desperately wants a job despite all evidence that it is just not possible anymore. For this part, being productive means being productive for other people including for society so as not to be a burden. So definitely preferably volunteer work as opposed to not working at all. But I mostly no longer can. I do have a sort-of job, tho unofficial, where I get remuneration-in-kind rather than in money. About 3x per month.

I wouldn't be able to do what you're doing. The descriptions from further back of the baby squirrels and the baby raccoons with their blankets are cute and I love that you got to do that. I wouldn't have been able to feed them tho, that has to do with stuff in my past. The problems you're facing now - no way could I go through with those, I'd be so triggered, permanently, in a totally different way from if I had to feed the baby animals by syringe. My nervous system would override everything, I wouldn't even get out of bed, far less get to the animal rehab place. A slightly different perspective maybe? If it helps you, great! If not, ignore.

reading this, hannah1, my first thought is this is EXACTLY what progress is.  being able to recognize a growing experience - that's a big deal.  thinking about and recognizing what might and what might not be good for you to do or take on - these are all signs of progress.  i think a lot of times we aren't able to recognize the progress cuz the expectations for us from others have all been so big, so overwhelming, so inexplicable, and so impossible too many times.  those kinds of expectations sat in our brains and were consistently reinforced so that we aren't even able to  recognize progress when we see it if it isn't some kind of grand gesture or accomplishment.

 

Hannah1, I agree with san here. I don't always recognise my own progress either, especially when it's "just" in my thoughts, some realisation or other. But san is right, it is progress. I hope you can see your own for progress some time too.

[HannahOne]

SanMagic7, thank you for always seeing the good in All of Me. I get so frustrated and upset with myself. I always appreciate your perspective.

Blueberry, thank you so much for sharing your experience. There is some depression for sure. Like you I NEVER was like this! I was always the one who showed up, never missed a day of work. So this is "not me," dystonic. And upsetting. And like you it's more than depression. For me it feels like a war between parts. I cannot override anymore, without that survival fire under my butt. Which is probably a good thing? Except now I'm like an untethered balloon. If I'm not surviving I dont know how to live.

Thank you also for reflecting how the wildlife would be too much for you. I have been thinking about it. There's a reason I didn't continue pre-vet studies. I have to go with me, All of Me, who I actually am and not who I want to be. Yes it's very cool to feed the squirrels and I love the animals. It also feels important to do, good work, helping. And, I can't help at the cost of myself. I can find other ways to express myself in the world. Thank you for your comments. I'm sorry we're struggling like this! CPTSD, what a witch.

[HannahOne]

Recording for my own bad memory: Very hard to leave house. Went to paint with friend. Came home feeling tired, relaxed, happy.

It's frustrating. I want to be able to leave the house every day in the morning. Easily. In a doable way. Because I'm happier, so much happier mentally and physically if I do.

what IS this gremlin that keeps me from leaving?!

Oh little gremlin, come out come out wherever you are? Show yourself. I have a teeny tiny cup of compassion for you.... I will try to get a bigger cup tomorrow...

I am so curious! What are you afraid will happen if I leave the house?