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 


Nakedstreetkid out x

Recovery Wednesdays

Angry impulses and overwhelming shame

How do people allow themselves to feel anger? It’s a scary concept to me. Anger can be so overwhelming, so controlling over your actions and your words. It’s so easy to carelessly hurt someone you love when you’re angry. I never understood why people let it control them. Even now, I cannot understand it. I would much rather hold onto it, keep it inside me rather than expel it in sudden bouts of frustration.

That’s maybe why I’m so silent when I’m angry. I try to hold it in, rather than lash out at my family or friends. That, or I start blaming myself. Until my anger turns into self-loathing. I try not to do that so much, now. I try to allow myself to be angry with them. Even if I can’t necessarily be openly angry with them, it’s a start.

That’s how we started therapy this week. Talking about anger, and how it seems to be the energy behind some of my more self-destructive behaviours. So, we tried to pinpoint my thoughts, behaviours, triggers and expressions during this certain emotions. As well as others. One of them being – of course, sadness.

Something that I hadn’t expected was shame. When I had asked her “why shame?”, she had told me that maybe I felt shameful about my own thoughts and perhaps that is why I censored what I say. It makes sense. But honestly, I would rather not agree with it. Not because it isn’t true, just because I don’t like the idea of being ashamed to say what you think. I hadn’t even thought of it as shame, but rather, a weakness deep within. To be afraid of saying what you thought just because people would judge you… I don’t like that one bit. That sense of weakness resonated with the others that we named: sadness, anger and anxiety. I hadn’t even known that I felt anxious about half the things I do. I thought that was just what stress felt like. But what I was feeling was anxiety. Strange.

In general, I find it difficult to pinpoint the emotions that I feel. I’ve never had to name them before. When I felt them, though, I felt them with every fibre of my being. And quite often, I used one of the umbrella terms – anger, fear, joy, sad and disgust. Kind of like the movie ‘Inside Out’, that’s how my mind worked. Complex emotions like shame and anxiety, never quite entered my vocabulary to describe my own emotions.

Thinking about anger this week and discovering why I’m so inclined to keep it inside has been quite triggering. I’ve been thinking more and more about my father. And in doing so, I have triggered an onset of quite heavy flashbacks and tears. Terrible.

Anyway, I have homework to do for therapy. Which is a first. I feel like I’m actually going to do it as well. We’ll see how that goes.


Nakedstreetkid out x 😛


An inconvenience of thoughts

From a very early age I was taught how to just stand there and take it. Not to put up a fight because I was too young to understand the reason why the adults in my life did what they did. I have been programmed that way, simply to be less of an inconvenience to my mum, my brother and sisters. Because we went through so much turmoil and trauma, me having a hissy fit or not doing what I was told was an inconvenience. My opinions, my thoughts were all an inconvenience. So, I’ve always kept them to myself and when I found that to be too overwhelming, I put my thoughts and opinions onto my body in cuts and bruises and when that stopped working, I translated it all into poetry.

You know what, life was hard growing up. And I know that is no excuse for my behaviour at any point in my life and that is why I keep most of these feeling buried. But they are damaging me internally and not only just that, but it is damaging my relationship with my mum, brother, sisters and friends. They need me to start maturing emotionally instead of being stuck in this petulant child phase that I am rotting in. I’m constantly angry at… I don’t know, so many things. My dad for his abusive nature, my brother’s baby mama for her manipulative one, my mother for her dependency and my sister’s for the same thing. But, most of all, I’m angry at myself for being angry at all of this. Because I don’t feel as if I have the right to have these opinions and these thoughts.

I’ve just always been used to reserving my feelings to myself or turning them off for the convenience of other people. And it’s difficult now, because people who used to tell me to be quiet and to shut up when I wanted to say something, suddenly want to me to speak my mind. But the problem is, I don’t know how to and the little I can, I don’t know if they would want to hear it. I love them, despite my anger, and would never want to hurt them. But I can’t even imagine how frustrating it is for them, now that they want to hear what I say and how incapable I am to say it. Me stuttering on my words and tripping over my sentences, getting stage fright from simply talking to the people that I love.

It must be hard for them.

Because, goddamn it, I know it’s hard for me.

Nakedstreetkid out x