Noise's Journal (TW: Self-Hate, Abuse Mentions)

[WhiteNoise]

Whoooo boy, first journal entry. Here we go, come on, you can do this...

I thought today was as good as any to start journaling, seeing as today I let my therapist know I wanted to try trauma informed approaches instead of just talk therapy for my anxiety. I chickened out three times before this, which is pretty good considering my track record. Hens look at me and start laughing immediately, that's how big a chicken I am.

Mostly I was afraid of being a special snowflake, seeing as I've already been diagnosed with ADHD, Autism and Generalized Anxiety. Adding one more to the list felt wrong, like I was faking it. And of course since I'm predisposed to doubt myself all the dang time, and to believe my self doubt with gusto, for a while I convinced myself pretty well that not only did I not have CPTSD, but that even if I did, a whiner like me didn't deserve treatment. If I wasn't better by now, six years after my escape, then I just wasn't cut out for any kind of recovery.

In general, I still don't think I'm worth it.  I don't need an excuse to cut myself down, I do it automatically without prompting.  I've even deliberately re-traumatized myself a few times, as a punishment for doing something wrong.

I need to fix this. I'm not getting better, in fact, I'm pretty sure I'm getting worse.

~~

So I didn't finish writing this, however many months ago.

Since then, therapy has ended. Very recently actually; last week was my final appointment. I feel a mix of disappointment and relief. I was seeing this therapist for over a year, and I made no headway at all, we focused heavily on my symptoms of anxiety, using CBT. As I've said to every single therapist and mental health professional I've ever met, I don't have any thoughts to control—my anxiety is biological, for lack of a better term.

After doing some reading from Pete Walker's CPTSD book, I realized that my anxiety is more my sympathetic nervous system in constant overdrive then classic GAD.  I'm constantly tense, everything makes me startle, my sleep is fitful at best, even though I'm good at falling asleep and sleeping too much.

Also, I hate myself.

I hate myself so much. When someone tries to get me to do the "tell me five things you like about yourself" exercise, I fail to come up with even one. I despise myself. Every single day I'm coming up with ways to punish myself for being a worthless pile of sludge of a human being.

I am pathologically incapable of receiving affection.

My cat, Saffron, for example, is a foster fail, who I hand reared with her two litter-mates from about one month old. Because they were so under-nourished when they arrived, their schedule of care was much more like that of two to three week olds, waking up every few hours to weigh, feed, stimulate (kittens can't go to the bathroom on their own in early life) and medicate them. Because of this constant handling, all three of them grew up to be extremely friendly cats.

Saffron literally sits in my lap all day every day, and if she's not sitting on me, she's sitting next to me. Obviously it's her choice to be near me. She likes my company.

Deep inside, I can't convince myself that she loves me.

I've tried! And I absolutely adore her; sometimes just looking at her brings me to tears with how happy she makes me. She's a wonderful, loving, intelligent companion, and every single day is better with her.

But despite the abundance of evidence that she loves me, something in me cannot accept that.

Same thing with my friends and family. I have a violent emotional reaction to praise.  It literally hurts to hear it.

So... Yeah. I desperately need help. I'm not sure if I can fix this on my own.

Now that I've stopped therapy with the person from my local health clinic, I'm going to try and do some digging for a therapist who understands CPTSD more. I have a lot of work to do, I think.

Anyhow, I'm going to sign off, before I can't climb out of the self-hate pit. I think I'll read some chapters of Maiko-San Chi no Makanai-San, a manga about a teenage girl who works as a caterer at a maiko boarding house. I really identify with the main character, Kiyo. If anyone reads this and needs a little boost of happiness, I can't recommend it enough.

-Noise

[Not Alone]

WhiteNoise,

I want to applaud your bravery in posting your journal entry. I know that can feel really vulnerable and scary.

[WhiteNoise]

Today I had a consultation with a therapist who treats CPTSD. She had a really nice, soft voice, which probably shouldn't factor into my decision to choose her, but I do like it nonetheless. More importantly, her approach includes emotional and somatic therapies, not a mountain of CBT. At this point I've got the emotional control of a vulcan, courtesy of CBT, and can barely connect with the pain that's ruining my life.

Next Tuesday is my first session with her, and I'm looking forward to it!

[Snowdrop]

Sounds promising. I hope it goes well.

[WhiteNoise]

Thank y'all for the comments, I really do appreciate them, even if I forget to respond.

I have therapy today at 12:30, I'm simultaneously very eager and dreading it. I don't want to hurt, but I know that this therapy is a good kind of hurt. I've spent a long time burying this pain, only for it to seep out in the worst places.  I forget how much pain I'm in, until it all tumbles out.

Today I'm really, really hurting. I kind of feel like a toy on a shelf, covered in dust, forgotten. I want someone to pick me up and love me, give me a bath and stitch up my injuries, but I'm scared that if someone does, I'll just break for good at the first gentle touch. Or worse, that afterwards they'll put me back on the shelf. I'm very scared of being vulnerable.

I guess I'm also kind of preemptively tired for all the work I have to do, mental health wise. I have a really, really long way to go with how much I forced myself to be 'functional' over the years. Half of the time I'm millimeters away from a breakdown, and the other half I'm ""totally fine!""

I'm very good at faking being relaxed and cool, but really I'm just kind of numb inside.

It does feel kind of good letting this out, but mostly I'm trying not to drip tears on my keyboard.

Here's to emotional ventilation, whether I like it or not.

[Jazzy]

Whitenoise, it is so great that you are actively taking steps to move forward with your healing journey. Posting here, seeing a new therapist, trying a new type of therapy, whatever is helpful for you, really. That's awesome, congratulations!

I'm sorry to hear you're hurting so badly. It is a difficult journey, certainly. I believe in you though, I'm certain you can continue to progress. I also believe your keyboard will be fine with some tears on it, and that you are what deserves the consideration!

I hope your therapy went well, and continues to do so. 

[Not Alone]

WhiteNoise, I could relate to what you wrote. I like your analogy of the toy on the shelf. How did your therapy appointment go?

[WhiteNoise]

Thank y'all for your kind responses, they really encourage me to push forward, even though it's very difficult right now.  I think I've left the floodgates open a little bit recently, and I feel a lot more vulnerable and tender than I normally do.

Therapy went pretty well! We talked about polyvagal theory, and how heading down a path with more neurological/somatic solutions, as well as emotional ones, might be a good place for me to start, healing wise. My therapist confirmed my theory that CBT wasn't doing very good for me anymore, and was in fact, starting to do harm by assisting me in repressing my emotions. The amount that I've started to cry in therapy also shows just how raw I am, how much hurt is still buried underneath it all. 

I am very curious to see if my medication needs might change with treatment as well. I was originally on a path for medication and therapy for severe anxiety, but that centered around the standard model that my anxiety was a disorder of uncontrolled anxious thoughts. I might have to talk to my psychiatrist about what medications work better for intense somatic anxiety.

In general, I think I have a tough but good trek ahead.  As I tumble along, I think I'll daydream heavily of another trip to Japan, the only place in my recent memory that allowed me to truly relax. Actually me and my therapist have decided to dive deeper into what made Japan such a healing, calming place for me, which I'm very much looking forward to, at the very least for getting an excuse to relive those wonderful moments.

I'll try to write again either right before or after my next therapy session on Tuesday.

[WhiteNoise]

I got my wisdom teeth pulled on Wednesday. I was put under general anesthesia, thank god, I probably never would've done it without a complete knock-out. So far recovery has been quite smooth, very little pain, funny enough. I was in much more pain from my rotten teeth.

They only got this bad because my father weaponized my healthcare. If I didn't renounce my mom, I didn't get treatment, it was that simple. While my mom did her best to afford things on her own, like my toe surgery, it just wasn't possible for me to see the dentist very often, and combined with my sensory issues regarding brushing, three out of four wisdom teeth had irreparable damage. So all four went.

I'm writing about this because it's really revealing to me just how automatic my emotional suppression is, and how toxic it is. Sure, no one likes getting dental work done, but I was absolutely flooded with terror.

That is, until I wasn't. At some point, like a building with fire sprinklers, my brain just shut that down. I was pretty much catatonic from Monday (when I had the first visit to look at my teeth) to Wednesday (when I had surgery). I was actually supposed to have surgery on Tuesday, but the surgeon turned me away because he thought it'd take too long to wake me up after surgery. As it turns out, I was a very easy patient, as my wisdom teeth weren't impacted, and I was under for less than an hour, but the refusal on Tuesday only made my week even more difficult.

Right now I'm trying to get work done, but I'm pretty much on the verge of tears, and I have been since this morning. My inner child keeps snatching the reins and calling for mom, and it feels like no amount of comfort is enough, even though I'm not in physical pain.

Half of me never wants to shut down again, because I'm so sick of the fallout afterward, when all my emotions just gush out, and half of me never wants to get rid of this shutdown mechanism, because if I lose it in public I will die on the spot from shame.

[WhiteNoise]

Hello again!  I rediscovered my account here while doing some social media management/restructuring, and decided to return.  Forums are much better for my mental health than standard social media stuff, so I've been working on building myself a much more welcoming internet environment full of the things I like.

Wow, it's been a little over a year (and a half?) since I've posted here, and I can't promise that I'll be consistent in the future, but I definitely want to try.  It feels like much longer than a year and a half though, I honestly assumed that I'd been gone for more than three years.

I've been working with the same therapist since then, and she is honestly so excellent.  I'm glad I picked her.  She has such an excellent understanding of trauma recovery, and is so consistently supportive and helpful.  I am definitely healing, although it is very slow going.  There's a lot to work through, and the more aware and healed I become, the more I realize just how precarious my mental health situation is.  At the moment, I know for sure that I'm about 5 Really Bad Days away from completely losing it.  My whole adult life has been structured around suppressing negative emotions, to an unhealthy degree, and now the dam holding everything in place is in disrepair and in danger of collapsing.  Unfortunately if that happens, my mother would probably put me away in a mental health facility, and that would be a very large roadblock on my healing journey.  So most of my life right now is focused on avoiding bad days at all costs, even if it'd be healthier in the long run for me to go up against challenges to see that I'd come out on the other side unharmed.

Now we're looking into a WRAP (Wellness recovery action plan) to put in a bit more of a safety net, as well as figuring out how to get my mother involved in my recovery, because currently all she does is make things ever so slightly worse.  We're also discussing partial hospitalization, either as a proactive step toward further healing, or as an alternative to my mother calling 911 again when I have a particularly bad flashback.

Here's to continuing down the rocky road of recovery!