anxious little prey animal heart beating beating
erg. i don't like being at my parent's house.
it is constraining and i turn into a cold nervous anxious person within the walls.
i can't talk to my parents.
I bury my head in some other project like being home is a waste of time and avoid their eyes when they try to speak to me. I feel small like in high school and like i can't process emotion and strung out on their fights and disorder and alcoholism.
and then i think about therapy like a panacea and want to pick apart and pick apart and pick apart until i understand distance and isolation and violence. but i can't discard it, because the dynamic doesn't change.
it doesn't matter if I spend an afternoon pruning trees, hauling trash, scrubbing floors, feeding animals, cleaning out the refrigerator, being social, helping my mom to dial the number for the domestic abuse hotline.
things will still pile up. they'll still fight in front of company. i'll still tune out and become mute.
and i'm also afraid of therapy, because what if it's like before and seems helpful but really doesn't address anything relevant?
i'm tired. I keep this distance for good reason. and there's guilt about that for good reason too.
(like my mom trying to reach out to me as she has no one, really. and i'm her daughter and I can't look her in the face and tell her what's news without flinching. and darting around mumbling, nearly crying but not speaking. and there's no hug because i can't do it, touch is like a shock and i remain robotic at best. )
angst.
angst.
but more on angst and more positively
yesterday I
was a big girl and had a grown-up conversation that made me feel vulnerable. but unlike other vulnerable conversations had previously with second party, in this one I managed to (mostly) remain present and on task and honest without (much) flinching. Now to see how they act. I feel a bit better, but it's going to take a while for me to come around, even if they try to carry out what i asked for.
it is constraining and i turn into a cold nervous anxious person within the walls.
i can't talk to my parents.
I bury my head in some other project like being home is a waste of time and avoid their eyes when they try to speak to me. I feel small like in high school and like i can't process emotion and strung out on their fights and disorder and alcoholism.
and then i think about therapy like a panacea and want to pick apart and pick apart and pick apart until i understand distance and isolation and violence. but i can't discard it, because the dynamic doesn't change.
it doesn't matter if I spend an afternoon pruning trees, hauling trash, scrubbing floors, feeding animals, cleaning out the refrigerator, being social, helping my mom to dial the number for the domestic abuse hotline.
things will still pile up. they'll still fight in front of company. i'll still tune out and become mute.
and i'm also afraid of therapy, because what if it's like before and seems helpful but really doesn't address anything relevant?
i'm tired. I keep this distance for good reason. and there's guilt about that for good reason too.
(like my mom trying to reach out to me as she has no one, really. and i'm her daughter and I can't look her in the face and tell her what's news without flinching. and darting around mumbling, nearly crying but not speaking. and there's no hug because i can't do it, touch is like a shock and i remain robotic at best. )
angst.
angst.
but more on angst and more positively
yesterday I
was a big girl and had a grown-up conversation that made me feel vulnerable. but unlike other vulnerable conversations had previously with second party, in this one I managed to (mostly) remain present and on task and honest without (much) flinching. Now to see how they act. I feel a bit better, but it's going to take a while for me to come around, even if they try to carry out what i asked for.