journal

Exploring the Stupidity of Emotional Dysregulation 

I’ve recently experienced so many fucking emotional flashbacks that it has been unreal. 

I’ve had to delete my whatsapp and disconnect my phone because the very idea of having to communicate with another human being while in this state of mind has been strenuous. Strenuous due to the high levels of just pure anxiety it provokes. 

I should start with the fact that during the weekend I went back down south to see old flatmates and make new ones. But I was just… I completely checked out. I couldn’t process through anything, I was feeling so stupid, so embarrassingly stupid because I didn’t know what I was doing. 

The thing is, what I usually fall back on are pre-existing experiences, copying what I did there so that they still come across authentic and then applying them in a chosen situation. However I couldn’t. I had never experienced house hunting or anything of that nature. 

I found that I was frustrated with myself, my internal critic gabbering on and poking fun at me. All the while physically, my face was completely blank and any affect in my voice was barren. I realised in that moment I was dissociating. I was internally reverting back into that little traumatised girl, having the same emotional capacity, believing that I was beyond a disappointment, failing everyone around me. 

I was walking around with the belief that I was, am, inferior and that I was a defective human being that deserved to die. 
Now, this didn’t start – or rather restart – this weekend, it started about a week ago  (shout out to that boy Bobby Shmurda). This idea had been cultivating inside my own mind for so long and I had decided to – whether passively or actively – ignore what I was feeling. In doing that it had found a way to thrive into this toxic energy that not only effected my own esteem but also the way I interacted with others. 

I am so sure that I’m fucking up every single relationship – friendship or otherwise – that it seems impossible to see a way out. Now, that may just be the depression talking but it is scary and I am scared. I am frightened being in this head space, during which I’ve suppressed so many emotions that now they are coming to the forefront of my mind and just burning there. And it feels so entirely uncontrollable. 

This is what emotional flashbacks feel like. And this is what emotional dysregulation looks like for me.

Because last week was where I was completely checked out, completely numb and dissociating all the time for the slightest reason. Now, I’m feeling excessively depressed, like I want to harm myself in any sense of the word. But in the next two weeks, I’ll be as right as rain, brighter than the sun, smiling all the time, having forgotten what this pain feels like. No longer as distressed, and I’ll be happy. 

until the next time where the process 

                                                                      Starts

                                                                                  Again. 
Nakedstreetkid out x

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journal

What to do? 

I’ve been crying a lot lately. 
Ever since my 20th birthday, I’ve become increasingly depressed. This depression stems from me having a mixed bag of both successes and failures in the past month, and my inability to focus on the good. 

The long and short of it is, I’ve been focusing on the bad. All the mistakes I’ve made, all the risks I’ve taken and the negative consequences as a result has knocked back my confidence. 

I’m back to questioning “Am I good enough?”

To which the answer has been a deep, resounding “no”, and that is terrifying. 

Over the past couple of months, I’ve made huge strives in recovery. I’ve stopped self-harming, I talk more openly with friends and family, and I am taking deep control and responsibility for my future. 

But that feels like that is no longer the case as I am going through another bout of depression and thus going in and out of dissociative states. 

To be honest, I haven’t a clue of what I should do to feel better, but writing has always helped in the past so… I hope this works. 

Nakedstreetkid out xx

Uncategorized

A state of Dissociation

I think that it’s lovely, not to be dissociating on a constant basis. I think I’ve been in quite a numb state of dissociation for a while now. Maybe for a month now.

Maybe two.

I’m not sure but it wasn’t constant. It was in and out. I would never quite get enough “okay days” as to feel the clarity I do now. It’s quite lovely. It makes me remember what I am missing.

Maybe I can stay this way. At least through and past the beginning of the New Year. I like being able to feel something and I like being able to feel past a few passions that would seep past my mood every few days.

It’s just nice to be present in the here and now again.
I hope it lasts.

Nakedstreetkid out x

Uncategorized

Suffocating Anger

I don’t think I can go to sleep yet.

I’m so tired, but I can’t go to sleep. My thoughts are spinning a spider web of self-loathing and self-criticism. My therapist says that my self-critical thoughts are the worst for me. And I must agree, especially if they’re keeping me up.

You see, I feel completely terrible for being inpatient with my niece today. Given that she was ill and moody and I was in a completely foul mood, it could’ve gone worse. But I’m still unhappy with the way I treated her. But children, they’re intuitive, aren’t they? She kept trying to make me laugh by doing silly things like playing peek-a-boo with me, or giving me a bit of her food. It was quite sweet, actually. She’s only 12 months old, so it was incredibly kind of her.

But I’m in a foul mood because I’ve been thinking – on and off – about the abuse I suffered as a child today. It’s making me increasingly upset. But I’m trying not to be. I’m really thinking about what my therapist said about 2 weeks ago (by the way, it takes me a while to process through things only because I’m often in a dissociative state in therapy). She said to me what I have suffered in the past was incredibly traumatic and I have every right to feel angry.

But that’s hard for me to accept.

First off, I’ve never actually acknowledged the abuse I suffered as something that could be considered traumatic. Any response I’ve had to it, I have personally marked as weak. Crying, getting depressed, getting angry or anxious, I’ve always dismissed as a weak response.

Which brings me to the whole idea that I have the “right” to feel anger. It’s a frightening concept. Because “anger” in my household meant people got beaten up. Anger meant words that pierced your skin and dug at where it hurt. Anger was a dangerous tool used by the aggressor to fuel another violent undoing. Anger was not your friend. Anger was the enemy.

I don’t understand how to process through anger. I don’t know how to acknowledge it and let myself feel it without fearing myself hurting someone I love.

So I keep it all in, but that’s bad within itself. Because the problem with not letting yourself feel anger is that it means you let it smother you inside out. You allow yourself to be suffocated. Hence the foul mood.

And why I can’t sleep now.

Thoughts are racing and I wish I was better company for my beautiful little niece.

Anyway, there’s nothing I can do about that now. Maybe, I’ll count sheep, read something or watch something boring and mundane until I fall asleep.

I hope your day has been far better than mine.

Nakedstreetkid out x

Poetry

A Question of Time

I feel sick
Even my name makes me sick
Each syllable a tick 
Alluding to something that should not exist
And my hands
They are juxtaposed
One warmed from the heat of the sun
The other lying away from it
Cold, dripping of blood
I wonder
How long can I sit here?
How long until my reality dissolves into dreams and my wrist is no longer bleeding?
How long until I have found my call?
And the drip, drip, dripping of blood
Has hauled me away and dumped me in a casket
Waiting for me to lose consciousness
Never waking me from my dream
How long, I ask, how long?