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

Flashback, journal, moments, Poetry

Flashback: My First Swear

pexels-photo-192560

Time stalls on the window sill

My tiny feet grips past the gloss, straight onto the flaking wood, face pressed onto the window, hands by my side

Laughter from the living room reminds me of their harsh words

Their intent to scare me, to remind me that I was no more than a common fool a success

Tears work its way down my cheeks

My warm breath dents the cold glass as a silhouette shaped like my chin and nose forms as the rain on the other side collect into droplets

 

Finally, I let the pain go and give room for anger to emerge

It wrestles my body into havoc as I begin to kick out against the window, punch away the fabric within the curtains and let my tongue boil out a single word

“Fuck”

I scream it

Then stop cold in my tracks

Did they hear?

Did they hear their 8 year old sister collapse into a word forbidden in this household

I wait

I listen

And nothing.

So I say it again

Nervous giggles jolting the words out in a quiet whisper

The word feeling oversized but good, easing away my anger

 

Better.

 

I feel better again.

Continue reading “Flashback: My First Swear”

journal, random

Self-doubt and other tribulations 

So, I’m experiencing this period of real self-doubt, where I can’t seem to believe that I am good enough for the course I have chosen for university. 

I feel that in some ways I’m not adequate enough, that I’m not good enough or prepared enough for a future in this career. And somehow through that, I feel as if this experience is completely individual to myself – that no one else in this world could possibly experience this level of doubt before they go into university. Which is of course false. 
Everyone experiences this doubt, whether founded in truth or not. 

But the thing that people forget is that everything is temporary. That what may be true today may not be true tomorrow and that there is always time to change your mindset and thus, change your outcomes in life. 

The truth is that I’m afraid right now. I’m afraid that my place in university may be revoked because of previous mental health issues that occured within the last year. And because I was so honest and so open, they now know everything and that could work against me but I hope it doesn’t. I hope they see my honesty as me taking responsibility for my actions and my future. 

Because at the end of the day, that is the most anyone can do. And self-doubt isn’t going to help me as all it can do is alter the way I behave and will work against me. 

So, in this case, I’m going to peel off the veil of self-doubt and have a little bit more confidence in myself. 

Because then,no matter what happens, at least I’ve shown my true self. 

Nakedstreetkid out xx 

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

Poetry

Childhood Lost

There are days where it just hits me 

Where the unspeakable mass of emotions

Holds me by the throat,

Slams my fragile body into my deteriorating mind

And an erratic heart beat applauds another loss

Of maddening success 

As birds twitch awake 

Ridiculing my drooling sunset

With a laugh and a tweet

Cruising the plummeting squeek of swinging defeat.

All while I cry

My god, do I cry.

Uncategorized

An honest story about Child-on-child sexual abuse

Child abuse is something that makes a lot of people uncomfortable. 

Child-on-child sexual abuse (CoCSA) damn right cringes people the hell out. 

I’m here to talk about both, if not now, then for a short time soon.

What amazes me is that it’s not widely talked about and victims of  (CoCSA) are shamed into silence about it or are mistakenly blamed for the sexual assault they encountered as a small child. Like, “no, that wasn’t sexual abuse! That was you exploring your sexuality, you little deviant!”

But guess what? 

If you’ve had to suffer through unwanted sexual contact as a child from another child, that is CoCSA. That experience shouldn’t be explained away, it shouldn’t be brushed under the rug nor should it be minimilised. 

Your experience is very real, incredibly valid and shouldn’t be silenced because it makes people uncomfortable. That’s not fair on you or your experience. 

I’m sick and tired of people looking down on victims of CoCSA because they can’t wrap it around their own minds how one child can violate another in such a way, but holy hell does it happen. And it happens in the thousands. 

One way or another, that experience can very well effect your functioning. 

I know because it has effected mine. And I hate it. Absolutely hate it with a passion and I wish I never had to go through that but I did. 

I did.

Nakedstreetkid out x

Uncategorized

Challenge Me

I want to write more and learn to be a better writer.

I know that this is coming a bit too late, but I’m currently at a time in my life where things are changing. I may not get to places I want to go and that’s frightening. 

Something that I’ve never quite done was look on this website for like-minded  (or even opposing) content. And I regret that. I’ve seemed to successfully shut everyone and everything out so that I can continue to write in my own self-made bubble. And that is because I was afraid of what people may say and was sure that whatever was said would surely end in criticism, I would not engage in this community. 

But weirdly enough, I’m at a point in my writing where I want to get better, I want the criticism so that I have a more dynamic foundation to start from thats will allow growth in my writing style. Right now I’m bored and quite frankly, understimulated with what I write and the way I write, that ultimately, I would just like to grow.

And that does mean putting myself out there. That does mean receiving both critical thought  (which is good) and hateful speech  (which is bad). But I’m sick of not being challenged and staying well within my comfort zone. I need to get out and try something different, even if it ends terribly, at least I have tried it.

Dude, I’m ready, give me a challenge.

Nakedstreetkid out x