hey, how's it going...

[Vexed]

I'll try to intro myself the best I can, but I'm detached momentarily and trying like mad to not stare off into oblivion for hours. Checking out is easier ... not productive, though I much prefer this to feeling. I'm stumbling around in the dark I suppose. Typing might bring me around.

Certain stressors tend to make me "depersonalize" more than others. Tonight's events are strange, though. I should have been mortified, yet I've felt nothing but the sensation of my heading filling with heaviness, a sort of mental sludge, and a feeling of intoxication; Pink Floyd was a genius.

It's taking forever to write this. Have I even said much? okay ... me ...

I'm Vexed, if that wasn't apparent enough. I've got more trauma responses than I have a memory for understanding them. I seem to be a mystery to everyone, myself included. My kids hate me because they've lost me to depression and anxiety more than they've had a functioning mother. I'm sure they have more reasons to resent me for but this at least is legitimate. If I wasn't trying to raise my last child, without such hostilities towards me and their lives, I'd give up fighting and let myself slip into the quicksand. I have to struggle for the will to care about anything. I'm just so tired.

This isn't who I am. This is what is left of who I once was.

[Three Roses]

Hello and welcome, vexed! We're glad you're here. 

You're found a group of people who understand, and can listen with sympathetic hearts. You're not alone here, many of us dissociate, freeze, etc., and struggle with depression and other debilitating effects of the trauma we've survived.

So come in and pull up a chair! Read some stories and check out the Resources link, we're happy to meet you.

[Vexed]

Thank you.