For the past week I have felt utterly depressed. I really couldn't make heads or tails out it. I felt very sleepy all the time. I wanted to stay home and do nothing. Just sleep and hide. I didn't even want to eat. I felt like I wanted to sleep more than I wanted to eat, and I lost 4 pounds in this week alone, which didn't help because calorie restriction makes one tired and depressed. Vicious cycle....
I had some ideas of what may be behind it. One idea was medication. I had recently been playing around with my medication in an effort to strike a balance between feeling good and actually enjoying some sort of sex life. I found that at half does of Lexapro the sex was satisfying, but depression was creeping in, so I had to reluctantly go back to the usual does. Anyway, so one thought I had was that quite possibly I have just been messing with my medication entirely too much and thrown my system out of whack. Thought number two, this weekend is the closing on my mother's house. I am traveling back to my hometown for this, and it opens up the woulnd of my mother's death all over again. Add to that that I will be seeing my father (ugh). Thought number three, my therapist is going on vacation next week and I won't see her for two weeks, and when she gets back we had planned to begin trauma processing via EMDR re: issues with my father. Of course this could be it as well. So many things, and I had no clue.
I went to therapy pitiful...dragged myself there actually, because really all I wanted to do was go home and go to sleep for like.....hmmm....forever? But I was really hoping she would help me sort this all out, and it was very helpful. It was quickly apparent this all has to do with issues regarding my father. In part the processing of it and in part the issue of seeing him this weekend. I have to go back to my hometown this weekend for the closing on my mother's house.
My therapist and I talked a lot about my father, the things that he's done, the mind games he played (ie saying what just happened didn't happen), and it's effect on me. Tough session, and I had to come home and let it all sink in for a bit. It was helpful though.
Afterwards, I sent this email to my therapist. Hopefully you guys can make some sense of it without me telling you the whole story. I think the only confusing part would be re: my father's mind games. He would literally look me dead in the face and tell me what just happened didn't happen, and I would be so confused as a kid. It's like I would think to myself, "What?" and he would be saying,"This just did not happen." And I would think,"Yes it did.", "Huh?" I would be so confused, and add to that confusion the fact that I was dissociative and what just happened on some level didn't feel real and I was one totally confused little kid. It was a great mind f*ck my young little brain could not unwind. Also my therapist and I talked about how would it feel to be able to say I don't want to have contact with him. Ack!!!! Little ones inside abound!!! We also talked about setting limits with him, or hence my inability to do so, as I am like the baby elephant that grew up tied to a stake who now as an adult thinks she is still unable to break away from that stick even though I've grown and could easily do so. No way I could possibly share with you all I gained from the session, but I would like to share my follow-up email to my therapist with you that sort of sums it up.
I just got home, but I wanted to share some after thoughts if that's ok.
When I first got in the car, I was contemplating the idea of confrontation. Just sitting with that thought, I guess. And when I pulled out of the parking lot this young self sprang a loud thought across my mind,"But what if he really didn't do anything?" That was like, out of nowhere. So then I am "listening" to that, and all I could think of is he really screwed me up.
So then I'm driving along, and it occurs to me that possibly my not wanting to do anything/go anywhere (current feelings) is an expansion of my desire not to go "there" (my hometown) and "there" as in"back there" revisiting the memories in therapy. In essence this little one inside doesn't want to go see him, doesn't want to face the trauma, and hence doesn't want to do anything.
I also am aware (and have been for quite sometime), that I have a tendency to bypass fight/flight and go straight to shut down. Almost like playing possum. Like if I just freeze, numb out, sleep, go away, I will be ok.
I am guessing that is how I dealt with trauma eventually which makes sense to me, especially now having read some of the Pat Ogden book (Trauma and the Body: A Sensorimotor Approach to Psychotherapy). I mean if social engagement and fight/flight proved fruitless over and over again, it makes sense I would skip it all and go to shutdown mode.
I guess those sorts of things are behind my tiredness, withdrawal, not wanting to go anywhere or do anything. I'm essentially curling into a ball like a roly poly.
Perhaps that little one inside needs to do that. But perhaps I can comfort her and allow her to stay safe inside while I stay protectively on the outside. I think over the last few days that "little one" has been front and center, and it's really my fault. I have been denying the existence of those little parts for a long time. I just felt so much better and so much more integrated after processing the hospital, I felt "cured". Then I ditched the whole idea that I was remotely DID anymore at all and shut down my willingness to listen. I so wanted to be done, and I wasn't open to my insiders, but it's not over til it's over, I guess.
I hope that what I wrote makes sense. Sometimes I feel like I'm making sense out of what to many people may sound like nonsense.
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