"give up your shovel and dig with a spoon"
Time for one of those entries that if I do too much editing, I'm just going to delete it, which maybe means I shouldn't post, but here goes.
As I suspect so many did, I shut down a bunch during the pandemic (not that I believe it's over now). It's more likely that I shut down pre-pandemic, conserving energy for surgery, for moving, for the distress of not-nannying, for the nannying and helping Delight and it just became more apparent over the past 16 months. Something integral in keeping up the shutdown state has now shattered, I suspect from the intensity of emotions that happened when Abundance started dating. Whatever was behind the shutdown state is now right up front, squirmy bugs after the rock gets turned over, and the part of me now exposed to the light has has also totally forgotten how to function in the world. I can't figure out how to structure the next two or seven trains of thought (though trains charitably implies a track, they're probably more like out of control ATVs being driven by emotionally compromised crocodiles.) So it's going to get even more scattered than usual.
While this shattering thing is likely to eventually be better than what went before, this is not to say I'm grateful for the instigating event, the process of adjusting to him dating continues to gut me on several levels, at least half of which are buried deep enough that I can't even figure out how to think about them, much less how to talk about them. These days are spent mostly crying and trying to remember I'm worried about future losses, this isn't about the present, even if the tiniest changes feel like current losses. Every train of thought leads back to being left, being not good enough to keep, about how I should be able throttle my emotional response so he's not miserable and tired from all the crying I'm doing, or so said response doesn't result in the same thing it's anticipating. I don't want to lose him because I'm too afraid of losing him. But I also don't want stop trying to be vulnerable, either.
I tend to try to internally shout myself down when I'm behaving/making choices in a way I don't like. My therapist compares it to some combination of internalized bully and a greek chorus and she's not wrong. I use this method to try to get to a variety of goals, from not letting people know I'm struggling to listening to voicemail I've been avoiding to doing the dishes. The words lazy and useless and gross come up a lot in these "conversations." I've used it for some bigger things, like sobriety, and tried to use it for an endless stream of things for which it hasn't worked, like any sort of going to the gym practice or other habit I've tried to form. Of course, I'm trying to use it for all the feelings at the moment and it's pretty much guaranteed not to work this time. (it barely works most of the time, I'm just afraid of the person I'd be if I didn't do it) I can't berate myself into not-crying, I can't berate myself into not-caring, I can't berate myself into behaving in a way that involves Light and Abundance less in my terror/trauma/grief, I can't berate myself into syncing up the reaction I'm having with the reaction I want to be having.
A lot of this is based on the long-held belief that if I was smart enough, fast enough, good enough, everything would be better, which means I would be better, which would mean I'd finally be able to figure out what was wrong with me and fix it, I'd be worth keeping. (I say this despite currently still being in the three longest relationships I've ever been in, romantic or not). And while I've never figured out what this wrong thing is, it's also responsible for everything that ever hasn't worked, my parents not loving/liking/parenting me, not ever having figured out what I want to do, being an addict, not feeling like I know what the responses to things I'm supposed to be having and definitely right now, not being able to think my way through all this terror (it seems super-melodramatic to gloss it as terror instead of fear but my fear seems to contain elements of rationality and proportionality that this experience has absolutely none of. Fear I can still do something with, fear is the base state, terror is when I freeze. and I should probably think more about the fight/flight/freeze/appease set of responses).
And so the attempt to stay open, to turn towards instead of away from is in conflict with the attempt to be less messy (weepy incoherence = mess). I find myself returning to two different phrases, which also feel in pretty serious conflict. "Make brave choices, bitch. No, braver ones." and "FFS, get over yourself/it. Lock it down, lady." Apparently my internal narrative is big on either gendering me or alliteration. It's not that simple, it never is, maybe some of the brave choices would involve getting over myself, but right now it seems to mostly come down to sharing or not sharing, trying to engage or choosing not to engage.
But this attempt to remain open, to turn towards (this turn of phrase helps me a lot), feels like exposing a nerve, exposing so many nerves that I can't tell where the pain is coming from, only that it hurts and it's got that kind of white-light feel that I associate with a couple unfortunate post-surgery moments.
I'm also loss averse in that way where if I think I'm going to lose something, I'd rather burn it to the ground immediately and salt the earth than stick around to see if the loss actually happen in the opposite direction. I know I want Abundance in my life more than I want to not possibly not hurt when he leaves (even if the hurt seems inevitable instead of one of a number of outcomes) and I struggle to be brave, to remember the part where I love him and that being vulnerable to him brings amazing connection instead of listening to the part that is all fear of what sort of disasters will happen if I lose him while I'm this attached to him and so telling me it's past time to start disengaging.
There's a lot of parts here.
Back to the other part of the original sentiment, which is where I thought this entry was going when I started it. This all means I'm less numb/insulated/shut down now and while I still wanted attention during the pandemic, it wasn't like this. I think I had forgotten how afraid I am of my desire for attention being "too much" for everyone. I'm back to the behavior where I'm relentlessly trying to monitor everyone's moods so as not to annoy, so as to only ask for things they're willing to give or only ask for things in ways that it's easy for them to say no to if they want, but only by interpreting subtle clues because I don't want to ask them, that's annoying too and much of the point of trying to monitor everyone's state is being afraid of annoying them with my constant desire to be engaged with.
I did this pre-pandemic too of course (I'm pretty sure sobriety saw the end of being able to find spaces where I wasn't doing it at least in the background) but this flooding back is uncomfortable and exhausting. I've also added some extra flavors, now it also has something to do with being unemployed and so everyone has real jobs and my only job is cleaning and even that I should be doing in ways so as not to bother them, but I should also be leaving them alone to do their real jobs or relax from doing those real jobs. And in that leaving them alone, hide the fact that I'm this ever-greedy "too much" that I know that I am.
I know that I was still trying to interpret moods during the pandemic, wanting to endlessly make sure that Abundance and Light weren't getting in each other's ways, despite them both being grown men who have lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time who can probably negotiate themselves if it rises to the level of becoming important to them.
Now, I'm going to need knee surgery. In three weeks, they're going in to try to repair a meniscal root tear and if they can, I'm going to have to be off of my knee for six weeks. I'm pretty sure every single fear I have about being too much is doing that thing where it wrings its hands together in anticipation of just really getting to go to town. And I'm frosting that cupcake with the fear that the reason Abundance might leave me is that by dating, he remembers that some other person can do all of the things he wants and that his life will be easier if he doesn't have to deal with my emotional and physically broken ass. As far as they can, Abundance and Light and Delight are being rockstars about this and so I also beat myself up about not sufficiently appreciating that.
You're welcome to comment on LJ, but I'd rather you leave a comment on the Dreamwidth version of this entry. The current comment count is
.
As I suspect so many did, I shut down a bunch during the pandemic (not that I believe it's over now). It's more likely that I shut down pre-pandemic, conserving energy for surgery, for moving, for the distress of not-nannying, for the nannying and helping Delight and it just became more apparent over the past 16 months. Something integral in keeping up the shutdown state has now shattered, I suspect from the intensity of emotions that happened when Abundance started dating. Whatever was behind the shutdown state is now right up front, squirmy bugs after the rock gets turned over, and the part of me now exposed to the light has has also totally forgotten how to function in the world. I can't figure out how to structure the next two or seven trains of thought (though trains charitably implies a track, they're probably more like out of control ATVs being driven by emotionally compromised crocodiles.) So it's going to get even more scattered than usual.
While this shattering thing is likely to eventually be better than what went before, this is not to say I'm grateful for the instigating event, the process of adjusting to him dating continues to gut me on several levels, at least half of which are buried deep enough that I can't even figure out how to think about them, much less how to talk about them. These days are spent mostly crying and trying to remember I'm worried about future losses, this isn't about the present, even if the tiniest changes feel like current losses. Every train of thought leads back to being left, being not good enough to keep, about how I should be able throttle my emotional response so he's not miserable and tired from all the crying I'm doing, or so said response doesn't result in the same thing it's anticipating. I don't want to lose him because I'm too afraid of losing him. But I also don't want stop trying to be vulnerable, either.
I tend to try to internally shout myself down when I'm behaving/making choices in a way I don't like. My therapist compares it to some combination of internalized bully and a greek chorus and she's not wrong. I use this method to try to get to a variety of goals, from not letting people know I'm struggling to listening to voicemail I've been avoiding to doing the dishes. The words lazy and useless and gross come up a lot in these "conversations." I've used it for some bigger things, like sobriety, and tried to use it for an endless stream of things for which it hasn't worked, like any sort of going to the gym practice or other habit I've tried to form. Of course, I'm trying to use it for all the feelings at the moment and it's pretty much guaranteed not to work this time. (it barely works most of the time, I'm just afraid of the person I'd be if I didn't do it) I can't berate myself into not-crying, I can't berate myself into not-caring, I can't berate myself into behaving in a way that involves Light and Abundance less in my terror/trauma/grief, I can't berate myself into syncing up the reaction I'm having with the reaction I want to be having.
A lot of this is based on the long-held belief that if I was smart enough, fast enough, good enough, everything would be better, which means I would be better, which would mean I'd finally be able to figure out what was wrong with me and fix it, I'd be worth keeping. (I say this despite currently still being in the three longest relationships I've ever been in, romantic or not). And while I've never figured out what this wrong thing is, it's also responsible for everything that ever hasn't worked, my parents not loving/liking/parenting me, not ever having figured out what I want to do, being an addict, not feeling like I know what the responses to things I'm supposed to be having and definitely right now, not being able to think my way through all this terror (it seems super-melodramatic to gloss it as terror instead of fear but my fear seems to contain elements of rationality and proportionality that this experience has absolutely none of. Fear I can still do something with, fear is the base state, terror is when I freeze. and I should probably think more about the fight/flight/freeze/appease set of responses).
And so the attempt to stay open, to turn towards instead of away from is in conflict with the attempt to be less messy (weepy incoherence = mess). I find myself returning to two different phrases, which also feel in pretty serious conflict. "Make brave choices, bitch. No, braver ones." and "FFS, get over yourself/it. Lock it down, lady." Apparently my internal narrative is big on either gendering me or alliteration. It's not that simple, it never is, maybe some of the brave choices would involve getting over myself, but right now it seems to mostly come down to sharing or not sharing, trying to engage or choosing not to engage.
But this attempt to remain open, to turn towards (this turn of phrase helps me a lot), feels like exposing a nerve, exposing so many nerves that I can't tell where the pain is coming from, only that it hurts and it's got that kind of white-light feel that I associate with a couple unfortunate post-surgery moments.
I'm also loss averse in that way where if I think I'm going to lose something, I'd rather burn it to the ground immediately and salt the earth than stick around to see if the loss actually happen in the opposite direction. I know I want Abundance in my life more than I want to not possibly not hurt when he leaves (even if the hurt seems inevitable instead of one of a number of outcomes) and I struggle to be brave, to remember the part where I love him and that being vulnerable to him brings amazing connection instead of listening to the part that is all fear of what sort of disasters will happen if I lose him while I'm this attached to him and so telling me it's past time to start disengaging.
There's a lot of parts here.
Back to the other part of the original sentiment, which is where I thought this entry was going when I started it. This all means I'm less numb/insulated/shut down now and while I still wanted attention during the pandemic, it wasn't like this. I think I had forgotten how afraid I am of my desire for attention being "too much" for everyone. I'm back to the behavior where I'm relentlessly trying to monitor everyone's moods so as not to annoy, so as to only ask for things they're willing to give or only ask for things in ways that it's easy for them to say no to if they want, but only by interpreting subtle clues because I don't want to ask them, that's annoying too and much of the point of trying to monitor everyone's state is being afraid of annoying them with my constant desire to be engaged with.
I did this pre-pandemic too of course (I'm pretty sure sobriety saw the end of being able to find spaces where I wasn't doing it at least in the background) but this flooding back is uncomfortable and exhausting. I've also added some extra flavors, now it also has something to do with being unemployed and so everyone has real jobs and my only job is cleaning and even that I should be doing in ways so as not to bother them, but I should also be leaving them alone to do their real jobs or relax from doing those real jobs. And in that leaving them alone, hide the fact that I'm this ever-greedy "too much" that I know that I am.
I know that I was still trying to interpret moods during the pandemic, wanting to endlessly make sure that Abundance and Light weren't getting in each other's ways, despite them both being grown men who have lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time who can probably negotiate themselves if it rises to the level of becoming important to them.
Now, I'm going to need knee surgery. In three weeks, they're going in to try to repair a meniscal root tear and if they can, I'm going to have to be off of my knee for six weeks. I'm pretty sure every single fear I have about being too much is doing that thing where it wrings its hands together in anticipation of just really getting to go to town. And I'm frosting that cupcake with the fear that the reason Abundance might leave me is that by dating, he remembers that some other person can do all of the things he wants and that his life will be easier if he doesn't have to deal with my emotional and physically broken ass. As far as they can, Abundance and Light and Delight are being rockstars about this and so I also beat myself up about not sufficiently appreciating that.
You're welcome to comment on LJ, but I'd rather you leave a comment on the Dreamwidth version of this entry. The current comment count is
.