Growing.

The deeper I go in therapy, the more I learn about myself. Who I was, who I am and how I feel. It’s been a rough ride. It still is.

As part of that learning process, I am getting closer to having to face who I used to be and that causes such discomfort and pain. It is all so very close right now. I remember how it felt to be betrayed, to have my trust broken and how it was to be so alone.

My memories are clearer, I am remembering new memories or filling in incomplete ones. It’s scary and painful, but I am managing to compartmentalise at least. Filing away issues and memories until I am ready to process is something I am becoming quite good at now.

In this process of self discovery, particularly recently, I am beginning to find aspects of myself that I like. And surprisingly, despite the shame, I am even finding myself increasingly defensive over who I used to be.

I am self soothing better than I have ever done before, which is particularly helpful during all the pain I’ve been experiencing lately. Not only do I know how to comfort myself,  but I actually want to. I finally feel I deserve that at the very least.

There has most certainly been a shift. A change in my self perception. It is split into two, where there is fear and shame and self loathing, but at the same time there exists a very real and growing self worth. There is joy in what I have now and great hope for the future, that even in the darkest moments lately, still shines through.

I am growing stronger, I feel more powerful than I have ever done before. I feel that strength and power residing within me, as part of me. The more I feel, the more aware of it I am. Whether it be love or pain, or joy or grief, it continues to grow. Is it that the closer I get to feelings, the more I become the person I should have always been? Is this what feeling is?

 

 

Something happened last night. Something awful and terrible. Or perhaps I should rephrase. It actually happened many years ago. Last night, through an awful flashback, I remembered that something. It is something that has been hidden from me. Or more, I hid it from myself.  It is something completely unexpected, something outside of anything I have explored before, that has me questioning myself. It is something that is feeding the shame that is already so very close. It is something that has the power to make my world implode. It is certainly trying to shake my foundations right now.

I think, had this happened any time before now, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it, not in the way I have today. Because today I am confident in my own abilities and I trust myself enough to know that this did happen and I know I am not lying.

That trust in myself doesn’t take away the pain and the conflict or even the shame and it won’t distinguish the very real fear of “who will believe me?” ..but I feel I have something to hold onto.. and that something is me. I am the only one who has been here for me all the way through. I protect me, I save me and now finally, I am confident that I believe me- I long for the day when that is enough.

Now, for that something? Well, I cannot keep it to myself, but how do I admit to this? I have to put it away I guess. Put it aside, just like every other new memory lately. I have to hold onto myself, because I know, as all the times before, it is my strength that will get me through.

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Wow, I feel crap

Yup, completely and utterly crap. I have energy for work it seems, but as I set foot out of the office door, I feel myself sort of sag. My energy levels dip and I feel like I’m dragging myself to the car. I feel bad that work gets all my energy and my husband and children get a grumpy, stressed and exhausted me. Poor them.

This has happened before, it fits with what I’m going through in therapy right now. I don’t feel hopeless, quite the opposite in fact, but I do feel really unwell right now.

The symptoms are very bad this evening, I keep thinking “OK, enough” and “time to take control” and I get up and try and get on with something normal like laundry. Who am I kidding? I can’t control my symptoms, I can help myself out, I can minimise the effect, but I cannot just stop them by sheer will power. For some reason though, it doesn’t stop me trying!

It helped to write to “him” again today, that is something that I have really needed to do for a few days now, but I hadn’t felt up to doing it until now. It was a big relief earlier, it felt good to recognise the shift in thinking that has occurred (actually not just occurred, I worked damn hard at).

I’m doing really well -something pointed out to me last night – and I recognise that, it is undeniable. I’ve come so far, I’ve made so much progress and I am proud of myself. It doesn’t make this stress go away though. I fear this week, it’s only Monday and I already feel similar to last Thursday, which was a very low and scary point for me.

I am trying to do what I can to improve things for the week ahead (until therapy Friday at least, when I hope I can release some of it), I’ve reduced my hours at work. I had been working extra hours recently; as of tomorrow, I am back to my normal hours. I have been trying to take note of my dips in mood today in the hopes that I can work out a way to help myself. I feel exhausted after work, which is when the symptoms really kick in. I know some of that is to do with the exhaustion from wearing the “I am fine” mask for work,  but perhaps it is more than that. Early evenings are the worst. I will be talking to my husband tonight to see if there’s something we can do to increase my energy to lift my mood and hopefully relieve some of the symptoms. Food and thirty minutes to myself when I get home (where my husband’s job allows) are ideas off the top of my head.

I need to do something, I can’t just ride this out, I am making myself ill. I already feel like an upset child (you know when a child who has screamed for so long, can’t breathe right, so they sort of shudder with each breath?- yup that’s me) and my stomach is in knots. I also worry about my husband and the pressure on him and I feel incredibly guilty (and really upset) that I am missing out on time with my children because when I’m home, I’m exhausted and grumpy. I know it’s short term, I know it will pass, but I also know it will happen again each and every time I’m in the midst of disclosing. I have to find the best possible way to handle it, the easiest way through, not just for myself, but for those around me.

 

Wish me luck.