SoCS prompt new/old

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Oct. 3/2020

not really sure how to use the new wordpress, but trying to start writing here again so following prompts/challenges seemed like a good idea.

well, i didn’t do this on the day i was supposed to, but here goes anyways.

new- what is new in my life? well, the pandemic of course (new/old to everyone now). my life seems so lonely now, which is both new and old- it’s been such a thing for such a long time but so many of the little things- even just sitting in a coffee shop with people- that i used to do are gone. for how long?

and the isolation is old, old. goes back to growing up so isolated i never saw people (outside my father’s people, and other abusers) aside from school and if i was lucky a small excursion “into town” with my father (which was fourty-five minutes away and a very small town- my father’s own paranoia and CPTSD kept him away from people. he was like those vets people talk about who just decided to go live out in the woods so they could not deal with the world. only he was a “vet” from the War and being in a Concetration Camp as a child. (and i’m letting myself not correct spelling here, this is supposed to be stream of consciousness).

but his isolation made me isolated. (not that having the stepmonster move in when i was 11 made it *better* at all- aside from maybe having less time alone with him, although time with her was- not better,really).

i feel like it’s the same stories i tell to people about that, and i laugh when i say them, but there’s things under the narrative i never get too. like how the other week i told my counseler at IOP some stuff about my family and my aunt and my conflicts about talking to her and casually mentioned how she’s convinced my father murdered one of his girlfriends. (this is totally outside the ra or any of that). and i said in passing she’s probably right. and i could *see* the guy kind of freaking out and i just- hadn’t even thought about saying it….

alright, even for one prompt. lets see if i can keep up on this.

2020 word of the year

inspired by various things i’ve seen online about this, and the lovely Blessings Manifested planner i had last year (which i may get one for this year if some money i’m hoping for comes in) which had this whole thing about that in it…

i *think* i’ve decided that this years word is “Intention”.  both to do things more intentionally, and to follow through on my intentions.  i want to be doing more (although both my T’s tell me i always feel like i’m “not doing enough”, no matter how much i’m doing, and that i’m one of their hardest working clients).  of course, i keep worrying if “Intention” is a “good enough” word, if it actually will encourage me to do more as opposed to- just intend to.  (but that’s the worrier part going- and i’m trying to reassure them it’ll be ok.)  hmm, maybe i’ll make some kind of part to put up on my wall by my desk for this (i could put it into the vision board i’m intending to finish…)

i don’t know how to feel about you.  maybe i never have.  maybe i never will?

it hurts.  i am shaking and i am nauseous and it hurts too much to hold onto.

you write about me as if i’m not listening, as if i’m not there.

it feels like you take away my words, my ability to speak, by speaking there as if i am not.  as if i am not a person who hurts, who also bleeds.

as if i am not as human as you.  (and always was so).

do you not see it?  do you not want to see it?

i don’t know.

i feel like i can’t breathe when it’s like this.

like you take all the air in the room from me.

and then i feel it’s unfair of me to speak, to say these things, so i come somewhere you won’t (I think) look to see.  i am trying to speak, though my tongue is lead in my mouth…

“Just as a good rain clears the air, a good writing day clears the psyche.” ~ Julia Cameron

via Healing Quotes Littles 880 — Kate Is Rising

everything hurts, emotionally.  like i don’t have any skin- like no matter what, nothing is right.

i tried to talk about this both times with Lindsay this week, and Deborah.  (and at the day program a little, with the new person- Dimitra? there).

I’d say it comes and goes, but in reality it’s more “me”, or “this me” that comes and goes, really.

I’m not sure it’s really at all good that it’s like that but…

i feel so- stupid.  worthless. useless.  and of course today i had to miss therapy becuase i’m really sick (as in, can’t focus to read sick).

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keep trying to write here, not.

bad thing happened (is happening?) regaurding someone i used to be close to and them saying nasty things about me online.

i may/probably will be doing some locked entries- if you want to read them just ask me (give me an email or something to send it to) and I’ll give you the password.

may start putting some of our polyvore sets here.  (or- well lj seems- tainted, by that person- we’ll get over that, probably eventually start copying our posts from one to the other- might copy over old posts to here if i can figure it out well).  though if we write about them we’re likely to have that locked.

well, i was in the hospital.  for a day short of four weeks- so basically a month (LL keeps saying three weeks- but that’s whatever the hell her own shit is- she also lectured me on some bullshit too so- she’s doing the nice, supportive/patronizing crap- trying to take the nice part and ignore the other).

i’m at this crisis residential place i was at back in February.  it is- far from desirable, but- not awful (the only other place like this for people in my county, as these are funding/dictated by what county you live in, is REALLY horrible).  it’s clean, the things they feed us are NOT diabetic friendly but- at least edible (I got diagnosed diabetic while  I was in the hospital- on Metformin for that, and hoping that with diet and (ugh) exercise i can go back to “pre-diabetic”.)

not sure- will write more about other things

i guess i’m feeling pretty severely depressed.  (no shit, yesterday instead of going to my mental health place open art studio, someone else came out and just- took us home, and literally stayed in bed all day.  did that today, too- didn’t even make it into therapy, though we did text and tell her- that part/probably a bunch of us- just literally weren’t even- up to getting out of bed. i was dehydrated and hadn’t eaten anything since Sunday when i talked to her this afternoon.

i did eat. and drank water, and even started (too late for tonight) chicken soup in the crock pot.  but- i am not in a good space.  oh, did talk to my therapist on the phone for a while.  i think she would’ve been more pushy on the hospital idea if i didn’t have an appointment with Deborah Wednesday, and then her Thursday. though- i am having Deborah enquire about beds.

 

this is a first, writing this soon.  maybe we’re seeing a trend- too soon to tell.

thick, heavy depression is hitting.  the summer kind, where i lay there being too hot and not wanting to move.  i prefer winter, or better yet, the rainy season like where i grew up (more on missing there- the land, not the people- later).

i slept a little and it- helped, a bit.  though now i woke up and it’s 10pm at night and that’s always disconcerting.

depression is still here.  not as immobile but- nothing feels good, feels right.  not anhedonia exactly- just- nothing feels- well, right.  if i lived in a better neighborhood i’d go for a walk (but that’s not such a good idea here at this hour).  if i had a car, i’d go for a drive.

i guess i could go for a short walk around the apartment complex. not totally comfortable with that, tho.  at least i remembered to install the chrome extension to filter the colors on the screen, so theoretically it won’t mess with my sleep as much.  I tried to explain to Lindsay that I know it’s not supposed to be good to be on electronics right before bed, but when i’m up and agitated like this i want- to connect to people somehow.  and i no longer have anyone to talk to in the middle of the night other than MK, and sometimes he- he’s a good friend but he doesn’t realize or think what’s going to upset me or bring things up, and then it makes it harder to sleep.  i might call him anyways, just to talk to someone.

therapy was hard today.  i’m still trying to figure out what i/we feel ok talking about here- but i can say some of it.  some if it was about past close friendships with other people, survivors in particular, and me feeling like there’s something “wrong” with me that in the long run- well in the long run none of my close relationships work out.  she said that’s not about me- a lot of it is about me getting healthier and not being willing to take the same level of crap.

we also talked some about- well about the most recent um, incident-more of what has come up for me.  lots and lots of negative self-feeling there.  she was reassuring but- i think that’s still churning around, too.  and feeling vulnerable, and stuff about being vulnerable to people you care about and then them- hurting you, wither that’s what they say they mean or not.