You were always one of those
Feb. 9th, 2011 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rachg82Life is kind of kicking my ass right now. I've reached that mental shutdown phase when you feel like you're about thisclose to becoming a veritable statue. You're not sad. You're just…nothing. The sadness might be there somewhere, but it's too deep for you to grab anymore. It's like you can't wake up. All you can do is fake-it-til-you-make it. Focus dimly on superficial joys, crawl out of bed for small portions of the day, and try to remember how you got out of this last time. Sit & blink. Sit & blink. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sleep. Nothing is right. Nothing matters. Almost nothing is interesting. It takes ages to do anything. It's all so exhausting. It's all so overwhelming. Somewhere along the way your head got stuck in a slow-moving ice floe, and now it's going down, down, down. You need a flamethrower & a lifevest.
But hey, I'm hanging in there. I feel like I'm barely here, but I'm here.
And I'm eating three slices of pizza right now. Surely that makes up for not eating until night-time, right? Also: I took a shower for the first time since my birthday, which--for those keeping count--was on 1/27. Yeah.
Little steps.
There's a mild skin rash that I tend to get periodically over the years during times of great stress, I've noticed, and it's popping up right now. I guess that means that, even if my emotions feel numb on the surface, my body still feels it. I suppose that makes sense. Otherwise why would I be sleeping so much? Even if I wanted to lie down all day, I still wouldn't be so somnolent. I'd just be lying there, awake & mopey.
I decided today to take it easy on myself & look at this like a case of the emotional flu. I know it's depression, but it's also more than that. It's mourning on top of depression. The last thing I need to do is beat myself up on to top of everything else or stress over what this means. I looked back at my journal from late September/early October, to remember how I came out of my darkest moments last year, and it was all about little steps. Clearly, it's not like the depression went away, but the comatose "Why am I living again?" dark-dark depression did get better, at least to a degree. TV helped & so did getting a job. Then there was walking, and ACA, and counseling, and my fanfic, & Coda coming to stay with me. Lots of little things. In the beginning though, just waiting & hanging in there day by day, watching TV shows--that's what kept me going. So, that's what I'll do again. But in the meantime, if I sleep a lot, and my biggest success all week is taking a shower? So be it. At least I did it. That's something, right? It's a start. I wouldn't have gotten anywhere last year if I didn't start somewhere.
I think I just feel a little lost right now. My self-esteem is basically a black hole of powerful irrationalism at the moment, into which I'm spiralling madly. It should pass, but it's very annoying. Parts of it are just too painful to really deal with, which is probably adding to the numbness. I don't think I've really dealt with my nephew yet (I keep dreaming about him, along with the rest of my family), let alone anything else. I'm trying, but I don't know how. Every time I think I'm making progress, some new jackass comes along to pile on more hurt. That's how it seems.
Okay. Well, a tear just rolled down my cheek. That hasn't happened in a while. It's like the tears have been crowding up behind my eyes & then stopping, blocked & teetering.
I dreamt the other night that he forgot to call me Tia. He kept calling me Rachael. That happened a few times when we first saw each other again last summer. It hurt. I knew it shouldn't--five months apart & all--but it did.
It's been over three months now. It's probably not going to end this time. I don't know when I'll see him again. I don't know if he's okay.
I dreamt another night that he wouldn't stop hugging me. Isabella and him surrounded me from both sides. We were in my mom's house though, and she was walking around yelling. I knew I couldn't stay.
(In the interest of being honest, I had to take a break just now, because I finally, finally had myself a gutwrenching sobfest. If my pain were an earthquake, he'd quite possibly be the epicenter. Or at least one of the major faultlines.)
One of the last times I saw him, he got upset over a miscommunication about something (I said something like "there's nobody like Isabella" & he asked "What about me?" and I laughed & said "there's nobody like you either!" & he misheard/misinterpreted my words, not understanding what I meant) & ran into his room, saying "no one" liked him. So I followed him in there & was only able to get him to cheer up by literally fake-sitting on his back, saying I wouldn't move until he admitted that "everyone" liked him & admitted that the reason was because of how "awesome" he was. And of course went on & on about what a great ~chair~ I'd found, wondering "where Jayden had gone" and bla bla bla. Y'know, the usual.
He's only seven. He's such a smart, sensitive, kind-hearted kid. There aren't any words to describe how I feel about abandoning him, which is EXACTLY what I feel like I did. I know it's what I had to do, but it doesn't change the fact that I did it. I know he's not my kid, but I still felt like I needed to watch out for him. Now I can't. There sure as fuck isn't anyone else over there who will. It breaks my heart.
There's nothing that will ever make up for it. Even if I see him again someday. It won't matter. I can't even write him letters right now without simply stirring up more drama for everyone involved. It wouldn't even help him. It would make the situation crazier. Like a "here, let me 100% guarantee more yelling & crying & psycho-behavior for you to be faced with. You're welcome!"-Trojan Horse delivered via the postal service. I'm not doing that to him right now.
I just hope he'll be all right. All I can do is pray. That's it. Seriously. He's already been through so much as it is. At least Isabella doesn't have as many bad memories of her parents that Jay does (so far anyway. I don't even know if Lance got convicted for the felony assault. He could be in jail right now, or he could be chilling at my sister's house whenever he wants, raising hell. I have no idea). This kid has dealt with ENOUGH.
I guess maybe forgiving myself for saying goodbye is going to have to be part of recovery, it looks like. As if the rest weren't enough.
I don't know. I can't think that far ahead. I don't know how this all works. Little steps, it's all I can do. But at least I let myself feel enough to cry. At least I took a shower. I ate.
And in the interest of working on my self-esteem, I'll write something positive about myself otherwise too. I'm still getting random memories from my past lately--so weird--and today I got one that was actually nice. My mom worked as a special ed assistant for a while when I was a kid (like "when I was in elementary school"-type kid), and one day I came along for one of those "bring your kids to work" deals. Her class consisted of children with both special needs & behavioral problems, so I don't know what this boy's issues were, but I just remember he was off sitting by himself drawing. I went over & sat beside him, began drawing as well, and made comments to him about art. He didn't respond, so I told him that was okay, and just sort of kept going on about my business, saying things every now & then, & drawing, etc. Eventually, he began commenting back, also talking about drawing & what his favorite colors were--simple things. When I finally got up & left, my mom & the other aids surrounded me like I was some kind of Miracle Worker, all, "WHAT DID YOU DO? HE'S NEVER TALKED BEFORE!" I was like, "Um, we colored? Whatever?" Heh. Afterward, when it was time for them to do their little singalong thing (so cheesy, ha), the teacher was all, "You have to come over & sit next to that boy again, do your magic. See if you can get him to participate." WTF. I can't remember if he sang, but I do remember he clapped in time with me. Then he got up halfway through & left. HA. I was like (in my head), "Yeah, I don't blame you, kid. This sucks."
Anyway, so: positive trait there? I've always been good with kids, even when I was a kid. That's just one example.
It's something anyway. It matters. Especially when your brain's in one of those "YOU SUCK!"-phases. You've got to fight back.
I will add too that I have an idea brewing for another fanfic, which should help. It's actually something I've been kicking around for months, but I think I'd like to actually do something with it now. We shall see. If I do though, I want to wait until at least after Thursday to start it. I've got to decide how to weave in the present Booth/Brennan relationship & what-not. I think I'd like it to largely be about Bones' adolescence this time (i.e. the foster system, specifically, & possibly some of her college experience, though I'm not sure yet). That will probably be the main focus. It hasn't been explored on the show nearly enough for my liking, & even my first fic only skimmed the surface of that time period. I'd really, really like to delve, and then find a way to bring that past to the present in a way that would make Brennan & the others confront/remember it exists again while also bringing new things to light, much in the way that the first couple seasons did. Oh yeah, and I want to fit in that cracky costume party. (Always with the crack) So, yes. I'll let the ideas simmer more, and then we'll see where it goes. I need to make sure I start looking for work & clean & all that, but if writing gets me to sleep less & feel more human again? I'm for it.
I'll focus on another of my favorite movies for my Vid of the Day today. This one's by borefuckingdom (I'd think if you were "fucking", you probably shouldn't be bored. Just sayin') & is about Requiem For a Dream. I know this is one of those super disturbing/depressing ones, but I love it. Because of Kim, because of my mom, and because it's just brilliantly acted & directed. Fantabulous. It hits hard because it *should* hit hard. I like movies & TV shows that aren't afraid to bring it.
But hey, I'm hanging in there. I feel like I'm barely here, but I'm here.
And I'm eating three slices of pizza right now. Surely that makes up for not eating until night-time, right? Also: I took a shower for the first time since my birthday, which--for those keeping count--was on 1/27. Yeah.
Little steps.
There's a mild skin rash that I tend to get periodically over the years during times of great stress, I've noticed, and it's popping up right now. I guess that means that, even if my emotions feel numb on the surface, my body still feels it. I suppose that makes sense. Otherwise why would I be sleeping so much? Even if I wanted to lie down all day, I still wouldn't be so somnolent. I'd just be lying there, awake & mopey.
I decided today to take it easy on myself & look at this like a case of the emotional flu. I know it's depression, but it's also more than that. It's mourning on top of depression. The last thing I need to do is beat myself up on to top of everything else or stress over what this means. I looked back at my journal from late September/early October, to remember how I came out of my darkest moments last year, and it was all about little steps. Clearly, it's not like the depression went away, but the comatose "Why am I living again?" dark-dark depression did get better, at least to a degree. TV helped & so did getting a job. Then there was walking, and ACA, and counseling, and my fanfic, & Coda coming to stay with me. Lots of little things. In the beginning though, just waiting & hanging in there day by day, watching TV shows--that's what kept me going. So, that's what I'll do again. But in the meantime, if I sleep a lot, and my biggest success all week is taking a shower? So be it. At least I did it. That's something, right? It's a start. I wouldn't have gotten anywhere last year if I didn't start somewhere.
I think I just feel a little lost right now. My self-esteem is basically a black hole of powerful irrationalism at the moment, into which I'm spiralling madly. It should pass, but it's very annoying. Parts of it are just too painful to really deal with, which is probably adding to the numbness. I don't think I've really dealt with my nephew yet (I keep dreaming about him, along with the rest of my family), let alone anything else. I'm trying, but I don't know how. Every time I think I'm making progress, some new jackass comes along to pile on more hurt. That's how it seems.
Okay. Well, a tear just rolled down my cheek. That hasn't happened in a while. It's like the tears have been crowding up behind my eyes & then stopping, blocked & teetering.
I dreamt the other night that he forgot to call me Tia. He kept calling me Rachael. That happened a few times when we first saw each other again last summer. It hurt. I knew it shouldn't--five months apart & all--but it did.
It's been over three months now. It's probably not going to end this time. I don't know when I'll see him again. I don't know if he's okay.
I dreamt another night that he wouldn't stop hugging me. Isabella and him surrounded me from both sides. We were in my mom's house though, and she was walking around yelling. I knew I couldn't stay.
(In the interest of being honest, I had to take a break just now, because I finally, finally had myself a gutwrenching sobfest. If my pain were an earthquake, he'd quite possibly be the epicenter. Or at least one of the major faultlines.)
One of the last times I saw him, he got upset over a miscommunication about something (I said something like "there's nobody like Isabella" & he asked "What about me?" and I laughed & said "there's nobody like you either!" & he misheard/misinterpreted my words, not understanding what I meant) & ran into his room, saying "no one" liked him. So I followed him in there & was only able to get him to cheer up by literally fake-sitting on his back, saying I wouldn't move until he admitted that "everyone" liked him & admitted that the reason was because of how "awesome" he was. And of course went on & on about what a great ~chair~ I'd found, wondering "where Jayden had gone" and bla bla bla. Y'know, the usual.
He's only seven. He's such a smart, sensitive, kind-hearted kid. There aren't any words to describe how I feel about abandoning him, which is EXACTLY what I feel like I did. I know it's what I had to do, but it doesn't change the fact that I did it. I know he's not my kid, but I still felt like I needed to watch out for him. Now I can't. There sure as fuck isn't anyone else over there who will. It breaks my heart.
There's nothing that will ever make up for it. Even if I see him again someday. It won't matter. I can't even write him letters right now without simply stirring up more drama for everyone involved. It wouldn't even help him. It would make the situation crazier. Like a "here, let me 100% guarantee more yelling & crying & psycho-behavior for you to be faced with. You're welcome!"-Trojan Horse delivered via the postal service. I'm not doing that to him right now.
I just hope he'll be all right. All I can do is pray. That's it. Seriously. He's already been through so much as it is. At least Isabella doesn't have as many bad memories of her parents that Jay does (so far anyway. I don't even know if Lance got convicted for the felony assault. He could be in jail right now, or he could be chilling at my sister's house whenever he wants, raising hell. I have no idea). This kid has dealt with ENOUGH.
I guess maybe forgiving myself for saying goodbye is going to have to be part of recovery, it looks like. As if the rest weren't enough.
I don't know. I can't think that far ahead. I don't know how this all works. Little steps, it's all I can do. But at least I let myself feel enough to cry. At least I took a shower. I ate.
And in the interest of working on my self-esteem, I'll write something positive about myself otherwise too. I'm still getting random memories from my past lately--so weird--and today I got one that was actually nice. My mom worked as a special ed assistant for a while when I was a kid (like "when I was in elementary school"-type kid), and one day I came along for one of those "bring your kids to work" deals. Her class consisted of children with both special needs & behavioral problems, so I don't know what this boy's issues were, but I just remember he was off sitting by himself drawing. I went over & sat beside him, began drawing as well, and made comments to him about art. He didn't respond, so I told him that was okay, and just sort of kept going on about my business, saying things every now & then, & drawing, etc. Eventually, he began commenting back, also talking about drawing & what his favorite colors were--simple things. When I finally got up & left, my mom & the other aids surrounded me like I was some kind of Miracle Worker, all, "WHAT DID YOU DO? HE'S NEVER TALKED BEFORE!" I was like, "Um, we colored? Whatever?" Heh. Afterward, when it was time for them to do their little singalong thing (so cheesy, ha), the teacher was all, "You have to come over & sit next to that boy again, do your magic. See if you can get him to participate." WTF. I can't remember if he sang, but I do remember he clapped in time with me. Then he got up halfway through & left. HA. I was like (in my head), "Yeah, I don't blame you, kid. This sucks."
Anyway, so: positive trait there? I've always been good with kids, even when I was a kid. That's just one example.
It's something anyway. It matters. Especially when your brain's in one of those "YOU SUCK!"-phases. You've got to fight back.
I will add too that I have an idea brewing for another fanfic, which should help. It's actually something I've been kicking around for months, but I think I'd like to actually do something with it now. We shall see. If I do though, I want to wait until at least after Thursday to start it. I've got to decide how to weave in the present Booth/Brennan relationship & what-not. I think I'd like it to largely be about Bones' adolescence this time (i.e. the foster system, specifically, & possibly some of her college experience, though I'm not sure yet). That will probably be the main focus. It hasn't been explored on the show nearly enough for my liking, & even my first fic only skimmed the surface of that time period. I'd really, really like to delve, and then find a way to bring that past to the present in a way that would make Brennan & the others confront/remember it exists again while also bringing new things to light, much in the way that the first couple seasons did. Oh yeah, and I want to fit in that cracky costume party. (Always with the crack) So, yes. I'll let the ideas simmer more, and then we'll see where it goes. I need to make sure I start looking for work & clean & all that, but if writing gets me to sleep less & feel more human again? I'm for it.
I'll focus on another of my favorite movies for my Vid of the Day today. This one's by borefuckingdom (I'd think if you were "fucking", you probably shouldn't be bored. Just sayin') & is about Requiem For a Dream. I know this is one of those super disturbing/depressing ones, but I love it. Because of Kim, because of my mom, and because it's just brilliantly acted & directed. Fantabulous. It hits hard because it *should* hit hard. I like movies & TV shows that aren't afraid to bring it.
