(no subject)
There is such a lot of sadness inside me. I find it hard to face it directly: I think I'm scared of it. I think I'm scared because of all those years when I was depressed - scared of going back there. I know sadness isn't the same thing as depression, and I know that my own depression was largely physically based and now sorted out, but feeling low still fills me with dread.
Yet not allowing it into my consciousness doesn't really help. It's still there, colouring everything. Like today when I was looking at a magazine with lots of seaside pictures in it. I love the sea. I loved the pictures, but they made me sad. Like so many things do. Things I like, things I've always loved.
They make me sad because they remind me of times in the past - times that are lost and gone - that seem to me now so much more real than the present. And doing or thinking of these things now feels horribly shadowy and lessened. A pale imitation of something real. And so there's a lot of things I will try and avoid doing or thinking about, even though I love them, because I don't want to get that shadowy, diminished feeling.
The feeling that doing or thinking about those things now isn't real in the way it once was. In the way it was when I was a child, or when I was younger. When I had certain people in my life who aren't there anymore. When my mum and my brother were alive. When I had all my life ahead of me. When it seemed like there were so many more possiblities. So it goes on. For some reason, now is never as important, never as real, never as wholehearted as the past. Now is just shadowland.
How long have I been feeling like this? Probably since I moved to where I live now, moved in with partner. That's nearly 13 years ago. Since I moved here, I've never really had any friends. There's a lot of things I've enjoyed doing, and I do like the town, and I do like the countryside around it. And I've had some big breakthroughs while I've lived here - like finding the cause and cure of my depression. And I've had some interesting jobs.
But a lot of the time I've felt like a ghost.
I think I do need to let this sadness come to the forefront of me - rather than keeping it lingering in the background and sadly colouring everything. I've got to tell myself I don't need to be scared of it. Letting myself feel it should ultimately do me good.
I never felt anything much when my mother died (nearly 14 years ago) or when my brother died (about 26 years ago). I wasn't aware of consciously repressing anything - I just didn't feel it. But I was already suffering from depression, even 26 years ago. The pain of the depression drove out all other pain.
So maybe now I'm just beginning to feel those other pains.
Yesterday I was feeling physically unwell all day (horrendous trapped wind and cystitis - two symptoms I've been getting a lot lately). Then on the way home on the bus there was a group of teenage girls who were talking and laughing really loudly. I could hardly stand it. I didn't have my headphones, so I had to resort to putting my hands over my ears, but I was almost in tears when I got home. Partner asked what was wrong and I told him and he put his hand on my back, but I couldn't stand being touched, and also he was talking too loudly. I asked him not to touch me and to talk more quietly, and he went off, offended, to the pub. Then I just cried and cried - it felt like an ocean flooding out of me. I thought I was crying because I was in pain and because he hadn't been understanding, but I think I was probably crying about all kinds of other stuff too.
When I used to go to therapy about 4 years ago, my therapist was always wanting me to cry while I was there, but I never could. Maybe I could now. I'm vaguely wondering about going back to her, just for a few sessions. I can't afford more than that.
Yet not allowing it into my consciousness doesn't really help. It's still there, colouring everything. Like today when I was looking at a magazine with lots of seaside pictures in it. I love the sea. I loved the pictures, but they made me sad. Like so many things do. Things I like, things I've always loved.
They make me sad because they remind me of times in the past - times that are lost and gone - that seem to me now so much more real than the present. And doing or thinking of these things now feels horribly shadowy and lessened. A pale imitation of something real. And so there's a lot of things I will try and avoid doing or thinking about, even though I love them, because I don't want to get that shadowy, diminished feeling.
The feeling that doing or thinking about those things now isn't real in the way it once was. In the way it was when I was a child, or when I was younger. When I had certain people in my life who aren't there anymore. When my mum and my brother were alive. When I had all my life ahead of me. When it seemed like there were so many more possiblities. So it goes on. For some reason, now is never as important, never as real, never as wholehearted as the past. Now is just shadowland.
How long have I been feeling like this? Probably since I moved to where I live now, moved in with partner. That's nearly 13 years ago. Since I moved here, I've never really had any friends. There's a lot of things I've enjoyed doing, and I do like the town, and I do like the countryside around it. And I've had some big breakthroughs while I've lived here - like finding the cause and cure of my depression. And I've had some interesting jobs.
But a lot of the time I've felt like a ghost.
I think I do need to let this sadness come to the forefront of me - rather than keeping it lingering in the background and sadly colouring everything. I've got to tell myself I don't need to be scared of it. Letting myself feel it should ultimately do me good.
I never felt anything much when my mother died (nearly 14 years ago) or when my brother died (about 26 years ago). I wasn't aware of consciously repressing anything - I just didn't feel it. But I was already suffering from depression, even 26 years ago. The pain of the depression drove out all other pain.
So maybe now I'm just beginning to feel those other pains.
Yesterday I was feeling physically unwell all day (horrendous trapped wind and cystitis - two symptoms I've been getting a lot lately). Then on the way home on the bus there was a group of teenage girls who were talking and laughing really loudly. I could hardly stand it. I didn't have my headphones, so I had to resort to putting my hands over my ears, but I was almost in tears when I got home. Partner asked what was wrong and I told him and he put his hand on my back, but I couldn't stand being touched, and also he was talking too loudly. I asked him not to touch me and to talk more quietly, and he went off, offended, to the pub. Then I just cried and cried - it felt like an ocean flooding out of me. I thought I was crying because I was in pain and because he hadn't been understanding, but I think I was probably crying about all kinds of other stuff too.
When I used to go to therapy about 4 years ago, my therapist was always wanting me to cry while I was there, but I never could. Maybe I could now. I'm vaguely wondering about going back to her, just for a few sessions. I can't afford more than that.