Hidden Citizens – Somebody’s Watching Me.

Hi. 🙂

I thought I’d share another really cool cover with you, though in a COMPLETELY different style than the last one.

Do you ever feel like somebody’s watching you?

I do, very often. Not always, luckily, but very, very often. It has to do with my “silence anxiety”, as I call it, which means that, among other things, when I am alone and there is complete silence around me, I have often this horrifying impression just as if somebody was watching me. Also I am obsessed about my privacy i some cases, even if I’m not doing anything that very private, and I also think I might be somewhat “traumatised” by Zofijka, who loves to make me surprises like that I come into my room, do things and after 15 minutes I realise she’s hiding under the curtain or something. 😀 Can be funny, but also often pissing off and unsettling, however despite me telling her how it’s often annoying and just not OK if she does it, I guess she doesn’t fully get it. Also I guess I’m just similar to my Dad who is kinda paranoid. So yeah, I do often feel this way.

If you do too, I think you’re gonna like this song.

It is a cover of that famous 80’s hit by Rockwell, made by Hidden Citizens. As much as the original version doesn’t have the climate at all, the Hidden Citizens version is really powerful and graphic. You can really feel what’s it about, in opposite to the original in my opinion. I really could use the Hidden Citizens version as a sort of soundtrack to some parts of my life. 😀 It’s impressive!

Question of the day.

What is the last thing you cried about?

My answer:

Cried like cried or just felt like crying? I have issues with crying and with expressing emotions generally, so, although I’ve learned to cry, it’s still really hard to do for me and I am rarely able to really let my emotions out through crying. I can feel like crying, or like I would really really like to cry very often, but I don’t cry often at all. I guess the last time I cried was in May, after one of my finals, and then I literally cried all the way back home and even afterwards and couldn’t stop, it was all scary! But the last time I felt like crying was last week on Tuesday, and it was also in some part related to my finals. But generally I felt like crying because I was just overwhelmed by lots of emotions and triggered, but just couldn’t let it out in any way, or figure out what’s actually ging on inn my brain, I was also extremely angry at that time and when I feel angry I often feel on the verge of tears, just like my Mum. In most situations I am glad I am not an easy cryer, like many women in my family are, but sometimes I would really like to be able to relieve myself through tears but it just seems impossible nowadays after all those years of bottling things up.

How about you? 🙂

Feeling better.

Yes. I am still depressed and sick of many things, but definitely not as overloaded with feelings and triggered as yesterday. I feel like I owe you some clarification of what exactly happened, so I’ll try to do my best, I hope it’ll also help me to see things even more clear, it may be a little lengthy though and I need to warn you I am talking a bit about suicide ideations later on.

Basically my Mum was really pressuring that I should rewrite the math exam, and that was how all the stuff has started for me. I feel like before I go into details, I should clarify that generally my Mum isn’t one of those poor parents who want their kids to meet their expectations and be perfect, absolutely not, that would be unfair to say she’s like this. I guess it was just hard for her to understand some things, and accept what happened. As I wrote you yesterday she knew before we got the results that I’m not gonna do it, that because of my always very shitty math results I’m only gonna take it once and think of it as a sort of try, not take it too seriously, like something of great life importance, as most people do. If it goes well, then brilliant. I’ll be happy, but if not, I’ll just let it go, because then I’ll know it’s just not for me. People say your finals are important to your further education/career in a way, and that’s true, but not for me. The things I really can picture myself doing in life, as a job, that I know I’d be happy doing, and that would be doable for me, knowing my physical and emotional limitations, would be something to do with languages or writing, most likely at home/online. I honestly can’t picture myself going to a traditional uni at the stage I am now, because I wouldn’t be able to commute on my own, I’d have to have someone driving me back and forth, my anxiety in big groups of people can be very intense and can make my functioning pretty shitty. This was also a partial reason why I finally chose to self-teach at home at my last school, the one I’ve graduated from in May. Also I just have no idea what could or should I study. I already speak a few languages and plan to learn more, but I can do it without going to any sort of school just fine, or even better, no one has to adjust to me and I don’t have to adjust to any class, just can learn what I want, when I want, at my own pace, which, honestly, I think is faster than people have on traditional courses, and my vocabulary is more extensive. I could study linguistics, or translation studies, but if I know a language, I can be a translator without them. Sure it’s better to have a paper attesting your knowledge, but nothing can proove it better than just myself, if, let’s say, I’d translate a book, and it’ll be written in a good language and well overall, who will have the right to tell me I can’t make it because I don’t have some shitty piece of paper? That’s what my Swedish teacher told me, and honestly I didn’t look at it before this way, but as he said it, my mind somehow opened wider and I realised that it’s really true, and I should be happy that I have some gift for languages, or at least that it’s something I really like doing, instead of overthinking on all the things I can’t or don’t want to do but feel like I should. I really liked his unconventional and fresh way of looking at everything. As you know I also thought about doing Celtic studies online (or linguistics or translation studies online), but it would be more as a hobby then really.

Back to my Mum. I think she was shocked by that news that I failed maths. I think that was what caused her reaction. She is a big optimist and tries to be always looking forward for the best, no matter what and what the chances are. I was this way too as a kid, but luckily for me, I am no longer so, and it’s much easier. It’s not that I always see things black, or catastrophise (although yes, very often), it’s more like my pessimism is defensive. Like I try to be prepared for the worst and then if the best happens, I can be really happy. But my Mum clung to her hopes and good wishes and I think it struck her a bit. She just couldn’t get it that I am not going to rewrite it. We were both very insistent, we had a quarrel about it. She was saying that it won’t make me any harm if I’ll take it once again, if I did it the last time just to try then I can try this time again, that I’ll be surely less stressed because I’ve already been through that, that I should be more courageous… I could understand her perfectly, but it couldn’t change my mind. I felt like she doesn’t understand my position in this at all. Yes, I could rewrite it. Let’s assume that indeed it would be less stressful for me because of familiarity of the situation, that all the other stuff would be OK. But I just can’t believe that after all those years I’ve been learning that stupid math, and got only 16% on the exam, I would be able to suddenly rewrite it with the score of minimum 30% after two months of learning. I don’t even have the motivation, for the reasons I wrote about before. And no, it’s not true I wouldn’t be stressed. i would be even more, whatever it says about my resilience, I know it’s shitty. ‘Cause what if I fail again? Would they want me to rewrite it again, just to try, ’cause who knows, maybe this time I’ll succeed? I can imagine my mat tutor. She’s a very nice person, but she had hell with me, and vice versa. I haven’t talked with her since before the finals but I suppose she’s very disappointed with me, with all the efforts she’s put in me. Do I want to go through it again, and disappoint her again? Not because she’s particularly important to me but you generally don’t like to disappoint people if they do their best to help you, right? The last thing I want to do this year is see her again every week, discuss why I failed, learn all the stuff again, with both of us greatly discouraged and stressed. I still remember all those hours we spent together during weeks directly before the finals. She finally decided that she can’t help me with the tasks as much as she did before and guide me through everything, say if I do things right or wrong, because there will be no one with me on the exam who will help me and I will have to do things on my own obviously. So she gave me a task, and I had to do it on my own. She just sat there in silence, not giving me any hints or anything. I was telling her everything I did, or actually didn’t do, just trying to do it different way and sooner or later discovering it’s wrong or that I don’t know how to wriggle out of where I was and what to do next. Guys, we had 2 HOURS together! I was sitting with it for an hour, and didn’t do practically nothing. It was nerve wracking for me although I kept smiling and laughing at myself and tried to seem to have a light attitude to things, but I just wanted to cry and fall into pieces. Honestly the only thing that I think helped me to not fall apart and give up completely was Misha, who was sitting next to me consistently like never before, as if he knew I need him desperately. And my poor tutor could barely stand it, I mean the situation, not Misha, I just could sense how frustrated she is and how her patience is coming to an end. Finally she gave up and told me how I should do it. And then there were many similar situations when we tried to do the same, with pretty similar endings, sometimes I was able to do something, more or less, but always was finally stuck somewhere for good until she enlightened me. After that lesson I actually laughed, not cried, because of an outsider’s perspective it surely could be very funny to observe us, but it felt scary and enormously stressing and I don’t want to (and don’t see any sense in it) go through this anymore. Of course I didn’t tell Mum about it, she has no full idea of how much of a nightmare our lessons were, my tutor was telling her often that I am not doing well or something, but since I am adult there was no reason to update her on everything as she always does with Zofijka.

Besides, MS. Smelly Maggie – the headmistress of that school for the blind where I took the finals! That’s I guess my main stressor. If you are new to my blog and don’t know anything about MS. Maggie, I’ve written a lot about her in May, but basically she was a nightmare, I can honestly say that in my whole life I hadn’t met a more jerky and intentionally rude person, I had a nasty encounter with her after one of the exams and it has taken me weeks to clear the mess she made in my brain. I don’t want to see the bitch anymore. I know she wished me that I’d fail it. She told me she “really hopes for the best for me” with such a tone that wouldn’t leave you with any doubts, but that if I won’t get the 30%, I should go to their school, do something else there meanwhile, and then I can rewrite it next year. When my Mum joined that discussion and tried to intervene when I was already too fucked up to say anything constructive, she said she knows I have already got over my boarding school trauma if I had any and I can go to theirs with no problem, the problem is just with me, and with my Mum who “imagines things that aren’t real about me”. Someone who said such things among others to us despite not knowing neither of us for more than 10 minutes. What could I expect her to say next time I see her? Other than that, she already knows about my “unfortunate accident” and called my Mum to say she is “looking forward” to see me in August and was very surprised when Mum told her about my decision and told her I have the time to 6 July to change my decision.

But I didn’t tell Mum about my concerns and how stressful it would be for me. I just kept telling her that I’ve already made my decision months ago and now I’m not gonna change my mind. I told her I don’t see any point in doing it because having my finals completed and passed and getting certifficate won’t change anything for me. Mum kept saying that I don’t know, that I don’t know what waits for me in the future, that I may regret it later on.

That’s true. I may. I now don’t think I will, but who knows. I understand her concerns and that she is worried about me. But if I’ll really find something – some studies I want to take, or a job that requires higher education and that would be particularly suitable for me – after five years, why can’t I write it all again then? I’ll be much more motivated, and even if it’d happen after 5 years, after which you’d have to pass all the exams again to get the certifficate, you have 5 years for a rewrites, so if it would happen after 5 years, I can happily write everything all over again. I’d do it much happier than I’d do now, I’d have some deeper purpose to it.

Mum says that until that time I’d already forget everything, that I’d have to learn again.

I’m sure not. I have a lot of knowledge about Polish literature from school and not only from school, and I don’t think I could forget it that easily. I’d just have to repeat some things. Same with English, well better actually. And as for Maths, I already don’t know anything. SO what’s the difference? Maybe only slight difference is that if I’d have a purpose, I could do better at maths and maybe get to that 30%. Although it’s hard for me to imagine it.

It’s generally hard for me to imagine a situation where I find some very good job or studies that are just for me and that I could do and be successful at, but maybe it’s my AVPD speaking and I shouldn’t let it.

And you know what’s another thing? When someone forces me to do something, pressures on me, doesn’t listen to my arguments or tries to prove for all means they’re wrong and I should do what they say, it… it just scares the shit out of me… You know, I’ve had tons of nightmares throughout my life, one just last night, evolving around that motive – someone forces me to do something, and I can’t, I don’t want, it’s scary like shit what they want from me, but I for some reason can’t persuade them I can’t do it, or can’t refuse at all. I’ve had such situations happening to me in boarding school, I don’t want to go into details right now. But it all just triggers me. I only want to scream and shout and cry and feel like having a massive meltdown and I can’t cope with it, I can’t form sensible arguments, I feel attacked and overwhelmed, and… I just can’t manage it. Even little things evolving around someone being very insistent make me feel quite upset and uncomfortable easily. Like when I was a teen even little suggestions expressed with some more pressing tone, could make me feel upset and irritated. Now I cope better with little things – my Dad is a kind of guy who likes to persuade things to people and make them think how he thinks so I just had to get used to the little things – but I am still not perfectly at ease with them and things on such a large scale like that fuss with the exams was way more than I could stand not getting all unsettled. Honestly I can’t remember any such intensive arguement that I could have with anyone over the past few years, I despise all the yelling and raging at each other without any deeper sense to it, I don’t think it can lead anywhere, but… it just happened, faster than I could think, and we started to shout and were both fumin’. My Mum isn’t the kind of person who often would impose something on you, but I felt very hemmed and very very triggered. So that I actually felt lots of separate feelings, like sort of disintegration as I wrote yesterday, which I sometimes do experience and which is always so very bizarre.

And so as that talk or argue progressed I felt more hopeless and overflowed with feelings, finally Mum left and it looked like she gave up.

Lots of my family members have texted or called either me or Mum to ask how I did and they all were so pitiful… As if someone had died and they expressed their condolence. It felt ridiculous and annoying and I had a hard time to stand it. And they also were so insistent – “but why won’t you try again?”. At some point it was just a miracle I didn’t snap out at poor people, I guess they asked with the good intentions, but I just couldn’t stand it. Particularly my catastrophising gramma was making me enraged.

At some point my grandad came with eggs – he sells eggs and to us as well when we need – and although I was in my room and was locked and didn’t want to see anyone, I could hear them talking about me and my Mum being very upset, and I guess even crying. I had to let Misha out because he meowed so I heard some bits of their talk. Then I heard that someone was walking upstairs to me and I guess knocking on the door –
I’m not sure because as soon as I’ve heard someone approaching I’ve set my darkest Finnish metal playlist on the full volume on the headphones to not hear anyone talking anymore about the fricken exams. I thought it was my Mum, but it was my grandad, as it turned out later on.

I’ve heard from Mum then when he left that he thinks the same as I do. It felt so good that at least someone understands, or tries to understand me, and thinks the same. I was afraid he won’t, he’s such an intellectual generally. My grandad has always stood by my side, literally, no matter what, and I was seriously afraid it might not be so this time. But then I thought that he’s absolutely not objective. He would support me and stand by me I guess even if I killed a man in the most brutal way you can imagine. I can imagine him saying that it wasn’t what I really wanted to do or that he still believes in me and that sure if I did it, I had a solid reason. That’s my grandad. Like if any of you have read “Emily Of New Moon”, he’s just like her cousin Jim in this regard hahaha he always makes me think about him, I mean Jim about my grandad. I was his first granddaughter and my disability and being away from home for years have I guess made him even more dedicated and attached to me and favouring me over his other grandchildren.

and when I realised he’s not objective, I started to panic even more.

Maybe Mum is right? Maybe they all are right? They probably are. There are more of them, and they can think rationally about it, while I can’t? What if I will really regret it? Do they all feel disappointed with me? Maybe I should change my mind? Is it about me being not resilient enough? Not courageous enough? Squeamish? Would other people in the same situation do it? Maybe I should just try more and be more serious about this whole thing? Maybe I’m too lazy? Faking AVPD to have an excuse? Maybe Maggie is right in all she said to me? She culdn’t say it without a reason, could she? Should I make such a big deal out of it?

Just this sort of questions and much more self defeating and self loathing thoughts circulated and exploded and overloaded my brain.

I realised that what I would like the most would be if someone could look at the situation really objectively. Understanding and knowing my perspective, and knowing the objective exam situation. I didn’t want people to tell me that I should rewrite it just because people always do so when they fail an important and deciding exam, I also didn’t want people to behave like my grandad and tell me what I wanted to hear if it’s not what’s true and objective. But I doubt anyone can tell me what I should do objectively and basing on my own situation. Is there any objectivity actually? I am just curious what would other people do in my place.

So yeah yesterday was incredibly rough. My feeling triggered and depressed has spread much wider and it stopped being just about exams and my future. I just felt like a piece of shit overall and everything was scary and hopeless and… well, it was just horrid. I was actually feeling suicidal, because I felt so conflicted because of this situation and so overloaded because of the argue with Mum, I just didn’t see any way out. It was actually the first time since a very long time that I was really pretty suicidal and had a lot of suicidal ideations. I feel horrified when I think about it now because at one moment I was so close to do something just in an impulse. I was going to sleep with Misha, and wanted to take my sleeping pill, because I was just all shaky and stuff. I took her, and I just had one short moment when I thought I’d take all of the meds I had in my room. It wasn’t much. I had some sleeping pills, anxiolitics and pain killers and allergy pills, but it wasn’t a lot of it in total. And that was what saved me. Because as I thought about it, my emetophobia came to the surface and told me that if I take this, I’d rather end up in the hospital on the detox than dead. And And it was then I fully realised what I just wanted to do. WHat a shit. It feels very scary now, I haven’t done such things for ages, and surely not so impulsively. It feels like a huge regress. Should I be thankful to my fucking emetophobia?

Today, I can see things a little bit more clearly, and I’m not feeling as much different shitty things at once.

I think my Mum’s outlook on things is different now.

I actually had a little talk with her about it today too, a bit calmer. It was incredibly hard for me, because I had to open up to her a bit about how I feel about that shit, I mean why I feel like rewriting that exam is pointless. I had to reveal to her a bit more of my AVPD self who usually stays locked inside of me away from normal people and so that I can pretend better or worse that I am normal or more normal than I am. Then I also told her that yes, it does, and certainly will, feel weird to me, to know several languages, be, say, a translator, maybe translate Vreeswijk, which would be like a HUUUGE THING and not have any higher education. But it’s nothing major I think. It will give me a harder kick in the ass and motivate me to actually try to be better than all the linguists that have the honour to be well educated and have lots of letters after their surnames. And she actually agreed with me and she told me we can stop talking about it and end the topic if I want and that she won’t urge me.

Of course, it doesn’t look exactly that very lovely as I said Mum and I am still, as always, very full of doubts as for my future, will I really manage to be a translator? Can I actually do anything else than that pseudo job at my Dad’s? But if other people, particularly my Mum, will stop analysing that bloody exam, if I’ll try hard, I hope I’ll manage. Life will always feel scary for me, no matter what, but this way much less.

Still though, I wonder, maybe I should rewrite it? Maybe it’s like giving up? Maybe I should just grit my teeth and go through it, and maybe I’d pass it and then have more possibilities in life? Maybe I’m selfish in some way not wanting to do what they suggest me?

I have a question for you guys. If you decide to answer it for me, please, be honest, whatever your thoughts are. I won’t be resentful or anything, I want to know what other people think.

My question is – if you can imagine my situation, as I wrote about it and as you know it and me from my previous posts – and if you were in the same situation, what would you do? Would you strive to improve your results and have more chances for future, and not disappoint people that are close to you? Would you want to challenge yourself more and see the point in it? Or would you do as I hope to do and focus on your good sides, not dive into that very anxiety provoking thing again?

I’m not asking you that question in search for advice. You won’t be responsible for what I’ll do, I won’t change my decision most likely, they need to have people signed up for rewrites until Friday and that’s way too little time for my introverted and overanalysing brain which is very sluggish recently. I just simply want to know what other people’s attitudes would be, I don’t know, maybe something will inspire me. 😀 I suppose it’s crazy to ask people about such things as it may be a little abstractive for others, I guess, but if you have any thoughts on this, please share.

It’s interesting how I feel even better now after writing it all, looks like it makes a difference whether you’re writing in a diary or blogging? I feel much lighter now if I’m honest.

Question of the day.

How are you feeling, today?

My answer:

First let me give you a little background, particularly for those who are my newer followers, but also for you all to update you on what has happened.

I’ve got my finals results today. They’re pretty much as I supposed them to be. I got 49% from Polish. Could be better, but it’s OK, given that it was my first exam in a row and how stressed I was and that some questions were a bit weird and I just didn’t know how I should answer them the best and what they actually expect from me. English – 92% – I thought it would be pretty high. Extended English was 82%. I also know I could do it better, but it’s still a very good score, and I’m happy about it, and I suppose that the reason why I didn’t make it better was that when I was writing an essay one of the teachers in the committee talked something constantly to me which really distracted me and pissed me off, while the essay was the most important part of the stuff. And, now, dear people, maths. There was 30% minimum to get to pass it. Being said many times how spectacular I am at failing anything Math related, and how much of a wreck I was then emotionally, how do you think? How much could I get?

……….. *drumroll*

… 16% Lovely, innit? 😀 How could I nail it so! No, seriously, I’m curious how I got that 16% I just felt so totally brainwashed during that exam.

I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh when my Mum told me it in the morning, but because I supposed it to be so, and because I cried over those things way too much in the past, I just snorted. I took it very lightly ad my Mum noticed it of course. She said “I see you don’t care at all” – Maybe not at all – I said – but I thought and cared about it so long before and I knew it would be so. Or I supposed so.

Don’t get me wrong, of course I would love to get a higher score at it, at least that minimum 30%, just to have it done, it’s sure not a nice feeling to fail so spectacularly at such an exam, I feel sorta disappointed even though I expected it to be this way. But as I said, I expected it, I was pretty sure that despite that miracle I wrote about in May about my oral Polish exam when I just passed it with 100% another miracle can’t happen in this case, I just didn’t write enough, I just didn’t do how to do many of the tasks so I just left them, or completely improvised, just to write anything and not make the committee suspicious about my knowledge, it’s not their business to judge me, it would look weird if I’d give them back blank pages, so have to write anything, in hopes maybe something will enlighten me and it will be right, that’s how I did it. Despite years of preparations. And another thing is that I just haven’t any speciffic, just ANY plans for the future. I just don’t know anything what I would like and could do at the same time. Might seem weird for you knowing how much things interest me etc. but that’s the truth. It feels pretty hopeless when you think about it more, but I got used to it. I wanted to study Celtic Studies if I’d pass the finals, and that would be cool, but that would be just for studying, what could I do here after Celtic studies? Can’t think of many things. Moving anywhere doesn’t seem a real option so far either. It all’s generally very complicated.

Anyway, my Mum didn’t really set her mind and prepared emotionally to the fact I may not pass, despite I told her it’s pretty likely and she was worried, but clung to some little hope she had. And now she’s making lots of fuss about it. I already told everyone interested much longer before the finals that I am just taking them to check myself and my abilities, to see if I can pass all the exams and that I’m gonna try to look at it as lightly as possible, and that I’m not gonna rewrite maths if I fail it, unless I’ll have only a few points less from the minimum, then maybe I could try again. But otherwise it’s pointless, if I wasn’t able to prepare well enough in all those years, what can I do until taking it again, it would be pretty unlikely I would pass it the second time. And they seemed OK with it. But now my Mum can’t get it that I’m not gonna take maths again. No one seems to accept it.

Of course she notified everyone who asked her how I did and they all are so pitiful and so insistent, everyone has handfuls of good advices for me, but they just don’t get it from my perspective. They can’t, and I don’t expect it from them, but I also don’t expect and don’t need all that fuss they make and how they all feel for me more than I do for myself.

The situation with the exams and various people really getting the shit out of me started lots of other stuff going on for me emotionally today, not directly related to exams thing at all. I just slipped into a sort of AVPD and depressive hell.

So, finally, as for how I feel, I don’t have many words for it. Shitty. Like a depressed pile of stinky and sticky shit. I’m sick of my own brain and of people and of everything, I actually think I’m triggered in some way, and I just feel too many things that I don’t even know how to describe, and very different things, as if I was a bit disintegrated emotionally, so I can’t write much about it now. I’ll maybe write more in length later on, tomorrow or something, or maybe it’ll become more manageable TO COPE WITH BY MYSELF, but right now I just don’t have that many words I could use for my feelings, and I’m going to try to sleep in a while even though it’s JUST 10 PM, to shut off my brain for as long as possible and because I just feel so wiped out physically, and I’m afraid that if I’ll stay awake much longer I might end up self harming or something because I just can’t cry or anything and I need to get it out somehow but I can’t, so maybe sleep will help. I think I’d give up much earlier and cut but as you may remember my grandparents’ have their 50th wedding anniversary on Saturday and it would be hard for me to cut so that no one would notice it then because I have a dress with exposed arms and it’s not that very long either, plus it may be hot on Saturday so a lot of my skin would be exposed. So that’s I guess the only one reason why I haven’t done it yet because the urge’s pretty strong. I don’t want anyone to notice and I don’t want to do it to my grandad, particularly not now. He seems to be the only one who still at least tries to understand me, believes in me and stands by my side, although he’s not objective either, because he has ALWAYS supported me no matter what the circumstances were like and I think he would still stand by my side even if I did something really objectively morally disgusting.

I am sorry it’s all a little chaotic, the situation is pretty complicated and I’ll write more details about it later on, if I’ll find the right words and if I’ll still feel like doing it. I hope I didn’t worry anyone with my self harm urges, I promise you guys I won’t do anything today, I think I’m too exhausted. It’s just all so overwhelming. I wouldn’t think it would be so. I wanted it to be a nice day, regardless of what my results will be like. But it was gross.

How are you doing? 🙂

A bit lousy day.

Yep. It’s not the best definitely. It’s a little better now, but the morning was particularly rubbishy.

The good thing is that I finally slept well, and a lot, and didn’t have any nightmares after a few nights in a row, which’s very cool. But I woke up, and as soon as I did, I started to feel very low, and it seemed to escalate. I lingered in bed, couldn’t just motivate to do anything, which happens to me very often but I am usually able to get over it, I read my book, until I finally gave up and realised that I just can’t function normally today. I just felt so overwhelmingly depressed, I dunno, I guess PMS is getting in the way, don’t know what else could be a reason, other than that my brain just felt like being depressed today. My family had plans to go to my cousins to their new house. I knew I’m not gonna do it with how I felt, plus it’d be just boring, I have completely nothing in common with them, they’re more my parents’ age, and completely not my type of people, I know even my Mum didn’t feel like going, but there were actually my parents that were invited, so I knew they wouldn’t feel offended or disappointed or anything if I didn’t come.

I usually don’t give up for my moods so easily – maybe if I lived without anybody else it would be different, but I live with my family and I know my Mum is always very worried when she sees I’m not doing well mentally, so if I can I try to drag myself out of bed and do things as normally as possible. But today I didn’t have the slightest bit of motivation to anything and felt hopeless and very very blah, so I told Mum I’m having migraine. I felt like she’ll be maybe a bit less worried then. I didn’t even go to the church with them, just the simple thought of being around other people made me feel sick. So I just lied and tried to read and even slept more. Sleep has always been my favourite way of escaping the reality if it’s too shitty. So apart from having a lot of sleep at night, I’ve also had a whole lot of sleep today. I had some very gloomy and dark dreams though. When they were out I was only waking up to fed Misha or let him in or out. I know, very shitty of me to be so very lazy, and so selfish to not play with him even for a while and leave him completely on his own, but my brain just wasn’t cooperating. Finally though I woke up for good and had to face my depression, I felt incredibly emotional and self-hating and lonely, although at the same time I felt like I wouldn’t stand a single, even the most supportive human being around me. There was only Misha, I didn’t have any choice and had to stand him, 😀 and I was very grateful for him. He’s been actually sticking to me all the time today, which is so very rare for him, and the more appreciated. I couldn’t resist the thought that if there’s anyone really understanding me in this freaky world, it is Misha, hands down. We even had a chat yesterday with Mum about Misha, you know, all that stuff about how fearful he is, recently it’s been a lot on my mind, ’cause, I can understand if it’s his feature, but I’m a bit anxious whether maybe it’s our house environment that has made him this way, or something else we or I have done wrong with him. And then my Mum summed it up and said “I think that’s just how he is – so anxious and avoidant” – and then she laughed and grinned that after all I am his mama, so maybe it’s hereditary – you know, AVPD and stuff. And then I laughed too, because as I thought about it Misha was so so much like me. Wanting, but not wanting to be around people, and if you just took the diagnostic criteria for AVPD and compared Misha to them, I think he could have it hahaha. Oh, sorry, Misha! Apart from his self-esteem, which is obviously as high as it should be expected in a spoiled child. Btw can animals have mental disorders, other than depression? Or maybe it’s just the rule that who keeps company with the wolf will learn to howl? Just laughing.

Anyway, I spent the whole afternoon with Misha, and thanks God for him, he always knows when he’s really really needed. Then I finally managed to shower and realised I haven’t eaten anything today so we both ate, but just a little – Misha because he’s just eaten and me because I shortly after realised that actually I’m not hungry – and then I was going to vegetate in bed for the rest of the day but finally motivated myself to not do it, I felt like I had a little bit more energy.

So my family had come back home and I managed to smalltalk with them even, and help Mum brush Misha. It’s still not OK, but good enough to function among other people.

I felt like some bigger mood dip is coming and I guess it’s finally here, ew… Hope though that I’ll have more enrgy to live and that it goes away soon, otherwise I might have to think about some antidepressants, my life isn’t very dynamic right now but I wouldn’t like it to go this way, it can’t be so when you’re around people and don’t want to seem constantly depressive, I need to have the energy and resources to at least pretend convincingly. I have gotten used to my depressive mood but for other people it’s not normal, and for my close family it’s frustrating.

So that’s all from me today, not very positive, but I wanted to do at least one constructive thing today and writing is what I usually do the best while being low, if anything, I’m totally not in the mood for my languages today, although I’m reading a book in Swedish, but it’s for kids, so not much thinking or figuring out is necessary.

Oh shit! Poland has just lost against Colombia. Shamin guys. 3 to 0 shit. Now my Dad’s gonna be depressed too. I supposed they might lose, though I hoped they won’t this time. My Mum was sure they will lose. I think people here make too much fuss around that Worldcup thing and around ur representation, so the more they’ll feel disappointed now.

Scared.

Long rant and unbossoming ahead, so be careful. Also TW for talking about emetophobia and all the obvious related yucky stuff. And about surgeries, and other related, possibly triggering, yucky topics. I will love you if you’ll get through all this, however it’s definitely not something I expect you to do, I just wanted to get things off my brain.

I’m having an absolutely shitty day, with lots of anxiety. I woke up very anxious because I had some gross nightmares for a second night in a row, but hey, that’s not the first time, so I thought I will get out of that murky place in a while. And I probably would, but then other things started happening. Particularly one thing a while ago.

Zofijka’s friend came over. She is, I dunno actually what’s with her, I guess she has some cold or something, anyway she is coughing a lot, but she seemed to be OK besides and they played lively as always and with lots of scream, as always. I was writing an exhaustive email to my pen pal, because I wanted to do it much earlier but haven’t been very well organised so didn’t manage, plus I wanted to distract from my other anxieties doing it. It wasn’t something very private or that I’d have to concentrate a lot on doing so I had the door open, the more that Misha was going in and out all the time.

And suddenly I heard someone running to the bathroom, the one that we have upstairs and that is beside my room. It was Zofijka’s friend. She was choking and then it sounded like she was gagging. So, well, I just froze. I couldn’t do anything, even just turn on the music or close that stupid door or do whatever. This is usually my reaction when I hear someone vomiting. Then Zofijka came to her and they talked silently and after a while they walked out. I don’t know what happened to her, I guess her cough was just so intensive. I know she had a brain tumour and isn’t fully recovered from it and Zofijka was mentioning that she had different things happenign to her as a result of it, but still objectively it didn’t look like something major. But I don’t want to know what it was… Or actually, I want, but I don’t want. That’s the best way I can describe it. But I think I don’t want more than I want. She looked like besides the cough she’s just OK, she played with Zofijka they were running and stuff, but now they just are sitting in Zofijka’s room and watching something. Obviously I wonder whether she has some flu or something and whether it’s contagious. I hate overthinking about such details. I wonder whether she’ll sleep with Zofijka. I generally like when other kids come to Zofijka for night, which may be surprising for you if you know me even just a little bit and how socially freaked I am, but everyone of us likes it, because then we don’t have to pay so much attention to her, she can be really really absorbing and exhausting long term, so it’s nice when another child comes to her for a weekend and she has something to do without either Mum or me having to constantly watch her, keep her company or endure her moodswings. BUt if she’s sick… and Zofijka will catch it too? And these scary bacteria and all will be all around our house… Grrrr!!! Scary!!! But I can’t stop thinking about it. Even if it isn’t anything contagious, I’m still scared, and I feel absolutely helpless about it at the moment.

I’m trying to distract, listening to music, I snuggled with Misha for a while when he wanted, went down to my Mum to smalltalk with her, but realised my Dad came back and they’re arguing so… well, ugh, I was reading blogs, tried to finish that email I started to write which didn’t go that well so I’d have to rewrite it, and now I’m writing here in hopes that if I’ll get it out it won’t feel so scary. More than an hour has passed since that little incident and I still can settle, and it scares me too, because I feel like it’s way too much time to process such a little thing, I don’t even know whether she actually vomited. But I just still feel so shitty, shaky and nauseated and cold and hot and dizzy and my thoughts are racing. Before that happened I planned to eat something soon but now I can’t think about eating anything without getting more nausious. Actually I’m rather surprised it affected me so much because I was doing better with my emetophobia recently. My family were sick in March and I had a lot of stress with it and other stuff combined together and although it WAS very tough, they were sick for a long time, I got through it more smoothly than this thing now. And I also feel like some major mood dip is starting for me, or maybe it’s just my anxiety trying to convince me that just everything is pointless. I took my extra anti-anxiety med but it doesn’t seem to do much.

And that other thing that scared me, not as much as the previous one, but now it all just combined into one scary monster in my brain, was something we talked about with Mum earlier today. Mum woke up having awful muscle cramps in her neck – she has issues with her spine so it’s like normal when she sleeps long in one position, and last night she slept very heavily. ANyway she wanted to make an appointment with her massagist as soon as possible. Then it reminded her that she also wanted to talk to him about me. Because of my feet and my muscle contractions that came up again when I started doing those five Tibetan rites with her. I agreed that she could talk with him about me and that it perhaps would be good if he saw me. Well I actually don’t remember if I had ever told you that I had a surgery for my Achilles tendons when I was 10. The orthopaedist I saw said that the source of the issues with my feet are the Achilles tendons which are to short so they’d have to lengthen them. They told me I would be in plaster for six weeks and how the surgery would look like. But it was all very brief and I didn’t really know what is going to happen, how I imagined it to be was completely different, and it seemed a very distant future. And when it finally happened it happened very suddenly, just the doctor told us out of the blue he can operate me in a week so we can come soon and that was it. So I had this operation, in pretty awful circumstances which I won’t go into now, and then I woke up hearing my Dad and nurses complimenting my new white high boots and how fashionable they are, and then I realised I had plasters allover my legs. Like, the surgery area was my Achilles tendons and maybe some part of my calves, while the plaster was all the way from my tighs to my toes so that I couldn’t even bend my legs. I think it had to shock me. I saw people in plaster before, like my Dad had his leg broken a few times, but I never thought you can be like this – I just though people who have something in plaster walk with crutches and do everything normally, like my Dad did. While I was actually bed bound. I think my parents weren’t prepared for such a big thing either, which only contributed to my insecurity around this. I actually felt much more like I was after some major accident than a minor surgery. Mum asked them to discharge me after the surgery and so they did, but I didn’t feel any better emotionally when I was at home. My existence started to be absolutely monotonous and depressive. This was the same year when I started integration school for a while in hopes it will work out for me, and Zofijka was born, so a lot of changes in other fields as well. I was overwhelmed that all the independence I had to the day of surgery was actually taken from me and I had to ask people for help with literally anything, like my Dad had to carry me to the loo and all that felt incredibly humiliating. I spent most of the time alone with not much to do since I couldn’t even change my position a lot. Mum was very occupied with Zofijka who was a very screamy baby and also we were moving houses and there was a lot of hustle with it so that she was mostly out of the house and then coming back in the evenings. I remember that I felt then that I was never going to recover or things will even get worse, that it will turn out I will have some weird complications or something. I think apart from all the boarding school shit etc. it was one of the things that screwed me up the most. That year many of my worst anxieties were brought to life or exacerbated, and I think then it was exactly when my first full episode of depression started, but it was diagnosed much later. It was then when I first was actively suicidal, and lots of other rubbish happened. When they finally took off the plasters of me I was very unsettled. In fact, when I was going hme after the surgery I was rather numb, but when they took the plasters off I felt like everything suddenly bursted out of me and I was a sobbing mess and noone, including me, could actually figure out why. It wasn’t the end though and the recovery afterwards and all the physio was even more traumatising and scary for me. When I finally recovered, after some time it turned out that the whole thing was actually waste of time and didn’t help much, and also that the plasters didn’t necessarily have to be that huge. I couldn’t recover emotionally for much longer, like even the songs I heard on the radio that I heard back then in the hospital or that were often played when I was after the surgery could bring me back to those feelings and experiences, and I could just feel situations as if they were now, or I had dreams in which it all was starting allover again, or a deep conviction it’s going to happen again, also that depression in which I slipped after the surgery has stayed with me for a long time. But I hardly ever talked with anyone about it and if so, very briefly and not going into my feelings. The only thing I am happy about with that surgery is that at that time I was luckily at home, not at the boarding school, otherwise I would have to go through that hell there, my Mum even told me once that she actually regretted I didn’t have the surgery there because it would be all easier logistically, so well, I should be thankful. Then Mum also brought me to another orthopaedist after a few years, and he told us that actually all that could be done with my feet, should be done when I was a baby and then everything would be OK, but what we could do at that moment was a surgery called Grice-Green’s surgery. I was just frightened, the more that this guy in turn described it all to me with lots of details and it seemed dreadful to me. However, somehow the thing was soon brushed under the carpet and of course I didn’t want to be the one uncovering it. My feet deffects aren’t so serious that they would affect my every day functioning significantly, or be very troublesome to live with, so I didn’t care and still don’t care much about it.

But where I’m going to, is that this massagist my Mum goes to is also a doctor. And it just scares the shit out of me that he could tell me I need another surgery or even anything similar. Of course I’d refuse, I won’t put myself into such things again now when I have the choice, but it all just… I think it triggered me. Because since we talked about it my brain is just flooded with memories. I feel so damn frustrated that I still haven’t got over with it. Like maybe I have a bit, but it still feels scary. I haven’t thought more about all that stuff for a long time now, I didn’t want to, and now it just all goes through my brain without me actually controlling it, like eveb the very details of that time and it makes me wanna scream. My Mum says he won’t do it, that he will just work on my muscles, because in recent years I’ve been getting a lot of contractions and stuff in many of my muscles, but particularly in my legs, and it actually is a bit disturbing for example with my horse riding or now with the Tibetan exercises. But some catastrophising parts of my freaky brain don’t want to believe in it.

Finally she called him and asked him if she could come, and then she went to him, and talked about me. She told me he said that these muscle contractions can also be neurotic, and that he’ll see me tomorrow at 12. I feel soo anxious about it.

Another thing I feel anxious about with this appointment is that I hate strangers touching me, even more if I’m just in my underwear. Mum says he wouldn’t care about it and how I look and stuff, that she was anxious about it too, but he has seen too many people to care about it, and she is sure I will like him. But for me it’s not about him. I don’t care if he’ll think I’m pretty or ugly or if he’ll care about how I look at all. It’s about me. I really really hate when people pay so much close attention to me, yuck.

So yeah, am very anxious today, but will have to get over it somehow. My emetophobia has calmed down a little bit as I’ve been writing and this girl isn’t sleeping with Zofijka, and also nothing very bad couldn’t happen to her, Zofijka would already tell me for sure.

I feel exhausted by all that anxiety, it’s been a while since the last time I can remember it being so intense, so I think the best thing I can do is to just shut off my brain and go to sleep, if I’ll manage, and hope tomorrow will maybe be better. Mum says she feels like having period and actually I would be glad if she would. It isn’t a Christian behaviour to wish someone a period, but then I know Mum would be stranded at home for the first day and we won’t go anywhere. I know I will have to see him and I know it could help me but I feel like right now I’m definitely not prepared. All that anxiety is, I guess, not adequate to the situation, and I would like some more time to digest it. I definitely wouldn’t like to come to him and freak out completely and lose the control over my anxiety, have a panic attack or something, which, in my current state of mind, would be very possible. Or I just hope this appointment will go better than I think it may. I just hope I’m only catastrophising with all this.

OK, sleep well, world. .

Question of the day.

When was the last time you were really angry?

My answer:

It was last month, during my finals, during that notorious encounter with the headmistress of that school where I passed them. I was just so angry I could barely keep it inside, I was tampin’ fumin’ ragin’, to use my favourite expression,, I was triggered,frustrated, sad, hurt, overwhelmed, scared, all and more at once. And I couldn’t get over it for days, and I still feel very weird and awful when I recall it. I am very lucky I had my Dad who was driving me back and forth for all the finals so I didn’t have to stay in their boarding school at nights and deal with her more than necessary, and when we once did stay in Bydgoszcz we went to the hotel and had fun thanks to him being so much at our disposal, otherwise it could be really a horrific experience, also more practically because from what we heard about rooms in that boarding school and the living conditions there, it didn’t look very appealing, particularly for my Mum. She was indignant that they call their rooms “cells”, even at the boarding school where I was learning they had “guestrooms” (and the school was led by nuns, so… well…). Anyway, anytime I had to see that bitch afterwards before and after any exam I was just feeling absolutely raging and it is pure luck for both of us, I think, that I’m so excellent at bottling up emotions so she didn’t have to deal with my rage and I didn’t put myself in trouble. 😀 I’m so so sooooo happy it’s over. I might see her once more if I’ll pass the written exams and will have to go there once again to receive the certifficate, but then the circumstances would be completely different, so it won’t be so tough. And if I won’t pass, then I won’t see her at all, and she won’t have anything to say about it, although I suppose she would really like to put in her two pennies worth if she got a chance, assuming from her earlier comments and behaviours towards me and my Mum.

When was the last time for you? 🙂

After the psychiatric assessment.

So as you probably already know, I had an appointment with the psychiatrist today to finally diagnose my dysthymia and talk about my possible AVPD. It all went much quicker than I would expect.

As I said yesterday, I was lucky, because I saw the same psychiatrist who saw me after I left the boarding school, who helped me to get individual learning for one year that I had until finishing the stage of education on which I was then, and who diagnosed me with reactive depression. She was very understanding for me and also for my Mum, and I got along with her so I was glad I could see her again as she already knew my story. It was my Mum’s idea to ask her whether she could assess me, because she was the one who first thought that I may have dysthymic disorder and because she already knew most basic things about me. I wouldn’t think she’d agree and have time for me, she works mostly with children, but she agreed.

Also my therapist Monika – the one with whom I have phone check-ins with – came for this appointment.

There was a lot discussed. She wanted to know how I’ve been doing during those four years since going out of the boarding school and then seeing her, so we brought up a lot of things and issues, but very basically I told her I’m of course much better now and less depressive, but I feel like I’m not really stable and struggling a lot with anxiety, plus my depression, althugh is definitely not as overwhelming as back then, is still soundly in place. The last time I saw her, I told her I think it’s my normal to be always more or less depressive, since I just was this way for as long as I could remember. She told me it’s certainly not the way I am, but how my surroundings and life circumstances have shaped me and that she thinks that when I’ll be in more friendly environment where I feel safe I will get better, however she read that I have hypothyroidism so she said I’d have to regulate it, because it’s commonly known that low thyroid hormones can make you depressive. And then she said that if depression will persist for abut four years, I probably would need to be treated for persistent depressive disorder. So I told her my thyroid hormones are pretty reasonable most of the time now, and I’m still low most of the time. I explained to her that it’s manageable and I can still enjoy things, but I often feel like everything is absolutely meaningless, am sad, hopeless, and frustrated with life and myself, I still have self harm urges, although not as often as in the past, and suicidal thoughts are still present somewhere in the background of my life, they’re never very strong, but they are there most of the time. I told her I can live normally most of the time but every few weeks have times when I feel so very flat and overwhelmed and it’s really hard to be normal then if even possible, not only because of my mood being so low and everything seeming overwhelming, but also of my energy being extremely low and that I get terribly exhausted very easily. And it always lasts for about a week. We talked about my mood in detail and how it is shifting and whether I’ve noticed any particular patterns in it. She also talked with my therapist who knows me for years and knows a lot about me and how I function. I also mentioned her about my self esteem being shitty and my feelings of inadequacy, and my therapist said an interesting and rather striking thing for me, that to be correct, we should actually say my self esteem is closer to non existent than low. I told them that actually that’s how it was before, but now I feel like it isn’t as very low as it was for example even two years ago. So we got deeper into it for quite a while. My Mum told the psychiatrist that she thinks that althugh I may seem gloomy, if she wouldn’t be my Mum, she would have a hard time believing I can have depression, because although it has improved slightly over the years and I am much better at talking/writing about feelings to people I feel safe with, I still stifle most of my emotions in interactions with other people. I told her I’m still scared of showing my feelings, and that actually now I’ve been bottling them up for so long that even if I want to express them, sometimes I just can’t and I’m very confused as for how to actually do it and that is frustrating and makes me feel even more inadequate ’cause I know very well what I feel but releasing it is another thing sometimes even putting it into words may take me quite a while. I mentioned to her how scary is for me processing some things from the past or even thinking about them, like about the roots of my anxieties, about which I don’t know much. I feel kinda conflicted because I want to get rid of it and know what it actually is and why, but I am afraid of uncovering it much much more.

And from that we moved on to those last events that led my Mum to the conclusion that I was actually emotionally abused for most of my childhood and how I find it still hard and uncomfortable to think about my past experiences as “traumatic”, because it sounds (in context of my experiences) kinda exaggerated to me. Other people can have traumatic experiences, but I hate thinking this way about my own, because… dunno, because it just makes me feel weak and like I shouldn’t be so traumatised by such things and should get over it long long ago.

Of course my Mum became very emotional and started to cry, I really feel for her that she cries in all kinds of moving situations in front of other people. We also talked a bit about all kinds of my relationships and how I’ve never had many of them, and even if so, very few of them were satisfying for me. I told her that socialising feels very exhausting for me, but although I generally don’t mind being alone, sometimes it feels a bit too lonely, but right now the only people with whom I’m in touch and happy of it are my family and some online friends. And we talked about my current situation in which I feel a bit like I’m stuck and don’t know what to do, I feel like there’s just a big black hole in front of it, or maybe I’m already inside of it, but it doesn’t feel so yet, because I’m still fueled by my achievements during the exams and that I’m finally free from school so maybe I’m just floating above this hole before I subside into it.

She was listening to both my Mum and me very carefully and was very understanding. Then she asked me quite straight-forward whether I feel like going on some medication, or like it’s manageable without and said that the decision whether she’d prescribe something for me like some SSRI today is up to me. That was a hard decision for me to make. But I decided I will stay without medication. I was coping unmedicated for my whole life. I’ve been through much, much, much worse depression in my life. These times when I feel most low are hard to go through, but I will try and I will go on meds if I’ll really really need to. I had an occasion to be prescribed SSRI before, when I was very concerned about my sleep paralysis and what it is, went to the neurologist and she said some people handle it with antidepresants because the mechanism that is responsible for sleep paralysis is somehow dependent on serotonin or something like this and she also asked me whether I want something for it. And I also decided to not take it and try to cope without. That stuff seems to have so many side effects that I would really need to think about it twice or even thrice to decide on taking it. I told her though that my GP has put me on anti-anxiety meds, because my anxiety was through the roof and I really needed them. She said it’s OK and that if I’ll feel like I need some medication I can schedule an appt with her. It was very nice of her that although she has so many children patients she is willing to carve out some time for me. She said though that I definitely need therapy and she wrote in my files that I have persistent depressive disorder and all the conclusions and wrote a referral for therapy for me.

Then my therapist told her that we’ve been talking a lot lately about this AVPD thing and I told her that whole story about how I found that Swedish girl with AVPD and how strongly her blog resonated with me and all she wrote about her condition and just how similar we seemed to be and then how I started to research it and it just shocked me how much like me it all was. Not everything to the same extend, but I can relate to all the criteria. I told her how I’ve actually never felt before like I react very strongly to other people’s critic and I didn’t feel like the fear of rejection and critic is what makes me avoid social interactions, but I didn’t know what else could it be, it was just always so that I was very anxious with other people and I never thought about the causes so when I thought more about it I realised that it may be the fear of rejection. After all I’ve been very often criticised and rejected by people for all my childhood and the whole situation that I have to be away from my family felt like rejection to me because well a 5-year-old won’t understand that “It’s better for you”. And my inner critic is constantly in action and she must hate me like shit I guess.

She read all the notes from that PD therapist whom I visited in March and seemed very involved. She asked me about my anxiety and how I see myself. She was also curious why I refer to my inner critic a bit like it was another person so I said I do it just for fun, I even call her Maggie. I often have, or maybe rather imagine having, stormy conversations with her in my brain and I imagine that she is a different person and the more stormy those discussions are, the more I feel like self-harming, Maggie is a very sarcastic and snarky part of me and almost always manages to make me feel terrible about myself. I feel like it all seems very complex and weird and I actually never talked with anyone in detail about it, my Mum just sat there very surprised, but they were very accepting and weren’t assuming at least not aloud that I’m freaky. 😀 So I also told them about other of my sort of imaginary friends, like that there is Bibiel, who always makes fun of everything and helps me create an impression, particularly around others,  that I am doing absolutely OK, if I need to seem OK, Bibiel is a little more social and very humourous me, slightly immature, likes to do strange things just for fun and has rather carefree, distant attitude to everything. And I imagine all of them as normal people, but who are parts of me and help me cope with some hard situations. She told me that creating imaginary friends is an often used coping mechanism for children, and if they still are with me, it looks as I still need them.

She also asked me some questions about all those my imaginary friends – Maggie, Bibiel and other weird individuals. I may do a separate post on them if you’d like to read it and if I’ll get some idea how to put it clearly and imaginably.

We talked about other stuff too, and then she filled some other papers, and actually it was all over. I got both of my diagnoses on paper, and referral to therapy. Somehow I thought it would take much longer to get the diagnosis, especially for AVPD, because it was something that came from me, not any specialist, and I wasn’t sure what they will do to confirm it fully.

I hope I’ll be able to start normal therapy soon. It’s a pity I’ll no longer be in touch with my therapist Monika, she was my therapist for so so long, and that she can’t fit me in, but I think that therapist with whom I met before who is working with personality disorders should be a good choice, or if not, I’ll be searching for something else, if not here in the area, then online, cuz there aren’t very many therapists here as far as I know.

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Question of the day.

Is there anything at all from natural world which has the ability to affect you mood in a positive way?

My answer:

Sure! First of all, obviously, Misha. Misha affects my mood and me in general in a very positive way. He helps me stay calm, lessens my anxiety, makes me more relaxed, makes me smile, keeps me company or even helps me come back to normal with my sleep cycle if it goes crazy for a while. Plus he’s beautiful. I think everyone would agree that beauty affects us in a positive way and influences us a lot.

Next thing, horses. I love it how the horse and the rider can be actually like one while riding and how strong the connection is then. My horse – and riding in general – is capable of making my mood significantly higher when I’m depressed, but I guess that’s also the thing with endorphines and such.

I love muscari, I guess that’s how these lovely blue flowers are called in English. There is something sweet about them I just love.

I find rain calming and helping me to concentrate, plus I like it also because when it falls, most of my allergies go to sleep.

And, since my early childhood, for some reason I’ve always felt something towards ice. I can’t explain it. I just like to feel it. I remember that I’ve even had a small dream to have a piece of ice that will never melt so I could feel it as much as I’d like to and have it in my room. 😀 I was just fascinated by ice, I guess, and still am in some way.

Another thing are gem stones, even though maybe some people wouldn’t classify them as part of the natural world. I love how beautiful they are, I really like to feel them and also in some way I do believe in their healing properties, and so I like working with them as I can, and I have a lot of admiration for gem stones.

Oh, and the sea! How could I forget about the sea? It just make me feel in such a very special way. And generally, being in contact with nature always makes me think about God and how perfectly He made all this. And when I’m by the sea, I tend to feel it particularly strong. And I think it’s also a positive feeling. I feel so grateful for Him he created all that beauty for us.

And I think I might have many other things in nature I feel a strong connection with, although these are the ones that came to my mind at the moment.

Friendly Fill-ins.

I discovered this great challenge hosted by 15 And Meowing

and MCGuffy’s Reader

not so long ago and thought I’ll participate in it this week.

So, here goes:

1. When I am nervous, I…. feel cold shaky, bite my nails/lips, have nausea. It depends on how nervous I am, but usually even when I’m just a bit nervous, I won’t eat anything.

2. When I am angry, I… usually won’t let other people know about it, unless I’m like raging and physically can’t hold it inside any longer. It also happens that I cry or feel like crying. And honestly I don’t like it ’cause then I feel like I can’t cope with it, but on the other hand I don’t get angry very easily and even if I get angry, it usually doesn’t last very long, although can be intense for me. Since I have trouble letting out my emotions, it still happens sometimes that I self harm because of anger, but now it’s rather rarely.

3. Today, I know for sure… that Zofijka won’t take part in her volleyball tournament today. She plays volleyball and we thought she’d play today, but yesterday she fell over at school and her knees hurt a lot and are bruised, so she just went there as a supporter.

4. For St. Patrick’s Day, I… am listening to a lot of Irish music in my green room.

 

Wanna join the no sleep club? And a bit of a rant, couldn’t resist.

Hi. 🙂

So, does anyone want to join the No Sleep Club? I don’t know if there’s something similar in English, but in Polish, we have a sort of saying: if for example you say to someone “I didn’t sleep tonight” that person can say “Welcome to the club” which means she didn’t sleep either. and I had such situation with my friend when I told her I didn’t sleep very well and she said welcome to the club and then we were talking about the idea of a no sleep club. Just a place where not sleeping at night people could be together and do whatever they want, but just be glad they’re not the only ones not sleeping. How do you like the idea? 😀 Just my thoughts. 😀

SThe rest of this post is going to be almost entirely a rant, so… just be prepared:

eems like I’m not going to sleep tonight, or at least not much. Today is one of these days when it sucks more than usually because I’m feeling very crappy and depressed since Thursday I think and I was hoping to at least sleep through some more of this shitty time. But probably I just had too much sleep last time as I slept from about 1 AM until almost 10. So again my sleep cycle is ruined. It all feels even more overwhelming at night. I just feel so low I am surprised I can function in the outside world as usual, or almost as usual. I feel like it could give me some relief if I could have some outlet, I’ve tried to write about all I feel and don’t feel in my diary and maybe why, but although I was writing for quite a while and wrote down a lot of my depressive thoughts and concerns and frustrations and all, I feel like I didn’t get to the core and wasn’t able to define what it is that overwhelms me the most, like I couldn’t get it into words. In any language I know well enough to talk at least basically about all this fucking complexity of my freaking brain that sometimes barely makes sense even for myself. Well most of the time I think. So I gave up with expressing myself, I think, at least for now.

But what I noticed looking at my diary recently is that I finally seem to see any patterns or cycles in which my depressive moods, or rather more depressive than usual, tend to go. I’ve always wanted to know if it’s possible in my case to define in which part of the day, or week, or month, my mood is most low or high. And I looked at the dates of entries and saw most of these filled with lots of depressive/generally self loathing thoughts I was usually writing either on the very end of the month, or the very beginning. And when I have PMS, but that I’ve already known. I don’t know whether it could matter or not, but am going to see how it will proceed this month and in a couple next months.

I think I’ve told you my ex therapist with whom I check in from time to time on the phone, thinks I have bipolar. No one else from the mental health specialists whom I visited suggested it, but she said that in her opinion mood swings I’ve been experiencing and sudden lift ups which aren’t very high, but are visible for me and which she had seen too, can be classified as hypomania. Only that I actually didn’t have such a really upbeat mood in months now. I had days when I felt pretty neutral or even a bit higher than neutral, but nothing like I could really say that I am in a good mood, no euphoria or anything. And so recently I started to wonder if she’s right or not. I know some people have longer cycles, but then if I had such a long depression phase, with so changeable intensivity, I guess I should have a longer hypomania episode, or shouldn’t I, I don’t know, that seems to be the only thing I know right now. And then thinking about that let me again to the conclusion that if I still don’t have the diagnosis other than that reactive depression three years ago and no actual treatment, it must mean I must be totally not fitting into any criteria, maybe I’m just somehow faking it or something or making a big deal of things, or am just untreatable. Of course rationally I know people can struggle with not getting a diagnosis either psychiatric or in any other medical field, for much longer, but emotionally I can’t really get it.

Good at least my anxiety has lessened since I’m on afobam again, it makes things more manageable, this yea is really so shitty, I don’t get how I’m actually supposed to get through it, so it’s good I’m on it now. And Misha’s with me. This is such a good child. It’s often hard to get him sleep with me at night, he sleeps so much during the day he’s then full of beans in the evening, but recently he started to come to me on his own when he sees people are going to sleep and meows at me to feed him and put him to bed. 🙂 He’s just sweet. And I am working on a name game, just to not think too much, or to not overthink and I’m going to post it here later on. I hope you’ll like it too, I got the idea from Meagan a.k.a. Tulip By Any Name, but I’m making my own. I rarely have ideas about my own name games, though I love them, so I’m glad I have something to occupy my mind at least for a while. It’s nothing big, but you have to be focused on it.

This no sleep thing really frustrates me, mostly because I have Maths in the morning. I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through with no sleep, but if I’ll feel very zombie-like maybe our tutor will take Zofijka during my hours. And my head started aching a few hours ago like I’m going to have a migraine soon, so yeah, seems like I’ll be having lots of fun tomorrow, or today actually, or whatever else kind of shit it’ll be then. But I didn’t have a migraine for some time already, but why do I have to have it at all? Is it really so necessary if so many people can live without it? Shit. Yeah everything seems soooo overwhelming right now, almost whatever I’ll think about.

Sorry it is so chaotic, but I’m generally very chaotic when talking about stuff like that, honestly, although I’ve been always writing a lot in my diary about my, hmmm, internal experiences, I still feel quite odd sharing my negative feelings with other people, even writing.

Really thanks for reading if you made through all this.

Question of the day.

What is the most important thing a person can do to improve themselves?

My answer:

Another hard one… Umm, a person? Every person? I think it’s hard to find a thing which all the people could do to improve themselves as we all have so different qualities… and so different values so what’s important to me doesn’t necessarily have to be important to you.

But the first thing I thought about was to become more empathetic. Most of us, unless severely hurt in childhood or having some conditions like brain damages, are empathetic to a varying degree, but I think also most of us could make more use of it or improve our empathy. I think it’s often that when we do something we know is good for us it sometimes happens that we tend to think so much about advantages which we will have of it, that we might not see other people who may be also influenced by our decisions and won’t benefit from them or may even feel hurt. Sometimes we feel emotional, arguing with someone or something like this and our emotions change our view on things. We see our feelings first and then other people’s and we often say things that may be hurtful for them just because we feel hurt. We know they will feel pain and it isn’t necessary to hurt them, but we don’t try to feel how it would be to be in their situation.

I think if we tried to imagine possibly exactly how a person may feel when we do something, or how would we feel being in their shoes, we would do much less hurtful things to people and maybe even start to do more nice things to them. Of course too extreme empathy isn’t good either, but I feel like most of us would benefit if we tried to improve this quality in us. And it would be definitely a big self improvement.

What is such thing in your opinion?

Question of the day.

If you could know the absolute and total truth to one question, what question would you ask?

My answer:

First thought I had – is there really any afterlife after we die? This may seem strange since I’m a practicing Christian so should be sure that there is, and I believe in it, but I suppose everyone of us, no matter what we believe in or if we don’t believe in the existence of any God, ask it sometimes, ’cause many of us would like to be sure. Is it all true or is it just a bullshit and we will just die and nothing will happen afterwards? That’s interesting. DO you guys ask yourselves this question sometimes too? But then I had another thought and I think I would prefer to get answer for this one, as I wonder really often about that and sometimes get quite frustrated about it:

Why actually was it so hard for me to go through that long period of time when I was at the boarding school? Or maybe not why it was so hard, but why did it affect me, my emotions and my mental health so much? Why I felt like it was so challenging if I wasn’t abused there, besides one year when I was emotionally abused by some of the staff, but then it finished. Why did I have such big issues with adapting there and why was it so overwhelming in so many different ways, for so many different reasons? Did other kids feel it too, but they were such great actors that I didn’t notice anything? They had to be really great, because I think I’m pretty good at “feeling” other people and I always thought they are happy there, well as happy as kids may be when they aren’t with their families. I know only one girl who I know that reacted to being there like me and ended up with generaised anxiety. Luckily she was much younger than me when people started to see what’s going on and it was my Mum who told her mum that she should take her home. Her issues looked very familiar for me. Is it the matter of high sensitivity? Coincidence of too many hard things put together? Emotional weakness? My Mum thinks so, but then why do a few other people said they think I’m strong? Is actually such thing like emotional strength a thing that can be objectively measured? Or maybe I was already freaky when I got there? Would I struggle less nowadays with my mental health if I wouldn’t go there? Or maybe I wouldn’t struggle at all? Why I am so afraid of processing my emotions and reacting so weirdly, emotionally and physically, to different, apparently normal stuff that all the other people are indifferent about and don’t think much about?

Well it is certainly more than one question. 😀 But it’s all swirling around one thing, so I look at it as one, big question. It all really makes me wonder.

What would be your questions. 🙂

Present.

It’s often hard for me to live in the present

.I’ve always had a tendency to either worry to much about the future, or delve in the past, analysing all the awful stuff that happened to me or idealising my good memories, or when my future seemed absolutely hopeless to me, to escape into daydreams where everything looked colourful and I could entertain myself with millions of beautiful scenarios of my life and the reality around me.

I noticed it at some point a few years ago, while talking with my Mum about something good that happened to me in the past and I was all like “oh it was so good back then” and Mum finally told me something that really amazed me and gave me a lot to think about. She said she thinks I think about the past or the future so much that I don’t live the present and can’t appreciate it, and so my own life flies past beside me, without me taking actually part in it. And although it sounded harsh and brutal for me back then and I immediately said it’s not true, it stayed with me and I thought about it a lot.

Finally I realised it’s true. I realised that when those things I liked so much about the past, when all those nice moments were happening, I didn’t think much about them, didn’t think they are nice because my mind was focused on so many other things, negative and stressful things, so I didn’t really live that moment, only in my memories afterwards. I know now that there is even the word for it in the Welsh language, which can’t be translated directly to English, it is “hiraeth” and it means longing for things, or particularly places, that don’t really exist, because you idealised them in your mind. Like your motherland for example, when you’re an emigrant. Some time passed away, so it could change, and your mind deludes you that it was better than it ever was because, the grass is always greener… obviously. Hiraeth may also refer to the longing for something you don’t know, so you know you feel the longing or yearning and it’s very strong, but you don’t know what’s it all about so it’s a bit frustrating. Oh but I shouldn’t talk about the hiraeth now!

So I realised I was experiencing that what now I know as hiraeth and decided to change it. I thought it is a total and pointless waste of energy and of time to do what I did.

I started to try to see all the positive things around me and, pretty quickly actually, it wasn’t already so hard for me to notice different small things in life that could be enjoyable. I still am a pessimist, but not of that kind that don’t see any positives at all. My pessimism, as I wrote sometime before, is more of a defensive nature. And it doesn’t stop me from being positive and grateful for all the good things in life. I am very often depressed, but, unless it hits me really hard for some time, usually I’m not anhedonic, so, I still have my passions, things I like to do, and they usually help me. Also I cope better with not so distant future. Like, let’s say about three years ago, if I would have a nice weekend and could do lots of things I like, everything would be great, I wouldn’t focus on the weekend, but would likely freak out about all the stressful things that wait for me on Monday. Now I rarely experience it to an extent that really disturbs me a lot. If I have something stressing ahead, it’s still in the back of my mind, but if I’m doing something better right now, I surely won’t focus on that stressful thing. Why should I do it?

I think it is now easier to appreciate the life and all about it more, because the present is just easier for me than the past was. Just the fact that I wasn’t seriously suicidal in years now means I’m now in much better place than I was back then.

Unfortunately, I’m still worrying, sometimes almost obsessively, about the more distant future, it’s very hard to control it, especially in times like these, when I’m finishing one of the stages in my life and aren’t quite sure what to do next. I am still daydreaming, and, especially at night, different crappy memories like to remind me about their existence. I’m still trying to unlearn it. But at least I haven’t that feeling, that my life is going beside me, and I am stuck in the past or in the future and don’t take any advantage of it.

Do you also feel sometimes like you’re not living the present?

 

A bit of a mental health update.

I’ve had quite a tough time in a few recent days. It started on Thursday and it was even more tough because it was my birthday, so, you know, people would expect you to be happy, smiling and beaming, while I felt everything but that. Since I got up, I felt just so overwhelmingly depressed, plus extremely irritable and emotional, like anything you’d say could make me cry or scream, just like a minefield. Very unstable. So, although as I wrote some time before, I am still a master at stifling emotions and no one really could really see anything that’s going on inside me, even my Mum didn’t realise until I told her, it was really hard to keep things under control.
I had a very poor sleep the night before and maybe that contributed to it. I fell asleep sometime between 4 and 5, I had so many thoughts and feelings on my mind that they kept me up and anxious for the most part of the night. Luckily when I finally fell asleep, it wasn’t disrupted and I had some time to catch up on sleep before the noon. So as I said, I felt just massive floods of emotions going through me when I woke up. I felt like I was shaking inside and had a lump of rage and tears constantly in my throat, as if I was close to a meltdown, which felt a bit scary.
I tried to be smiling and I think I succeeded, after all I am sure that if not my emotional disregulation, I would surely enjoy that day much more.
My sis Zofijka was very sweet to me. She bought me a Toffifee, she knows I love Toffifee and she loves it too, so we were eating it together. Also she got me a pillow which looks like a cat and she called it Misha. My Mum got me a salt lamp, which is really lovely. And I got a cat figurine made of onyx from my Dad, so my gem stone figurines collection is now a bit bigger. It is very lovely too. I felt very grateful for how they knew what would make me happy.
The first more difficult moment for me during that day happened when my aunt, who is also my God mother called me to wish me happy birthday. She is kind of know-all person, quite judgmental and that’s why she often, consciously or not, hurts people with her straight-away, judgmental opinions, which surely aren’t facts, or with her “good advices”. I think almost everyone knows someone like this, who wishes you only well, but in fact every time you talk to them, you feel drained or hurt.
So this time wasn’t an exception and she kind of worsened my mood even more. So I decided that before any guests will come, I need some Mishtime, just Misha and me, otherwise I will explode and people will be surely very astonished and confused. So we had some time together with Misha and with some good, Norwegian electronic music on. I think Mishka realised in some way that I need him, because he stayed beside me for an entire hour, although it’s so not his style. We lied together and I was stroking him and listening to his sounds – his heartbeat, breath, his tummy and any other Mishsounds. They are all sooo cute! 😀 Really. And they are so soothing. That’s why I sometimes wish I could go inside Misha and hide there, although my sis says it’s weird, because she thinks Misha can’t be even a bit as beautiful inside as he is outside and she’d prefer to be small enough to fit his basket and curl up in there with him. Anyway, Mishtime made me a bit more relaxed for a while, but just for a while.
Finally the guests came and it turned out we’ll be having quite a lot of extended family here. Our family is rather big and they like gatherings and their food, especially my Dad’s family, so it was really quite a bunch of people. Although I know them all more or less obviously since they are my family, I didn’t feel very confident in such a big group of people so the anxiety turned on at some point as well. And then we also had a little family drama, not regarding me directly, but indirectly and it made me even more emotional, so after a few hours I just needed urgently to go away from all this. So did it. Misha was following me so we both went to the bathroom and I had a long, hot shower and cried my guts out, as I felt I needed it, where as Misha enjoyed his favourite activity – drank the water from the tap in the tube. He always drinks from everywhere but his own bowl. 😀 I couldn’t really get exactly why I had all these emotions and why they were so intense and mixed. So I cried a lot and for a while I felt I let it out, but it couldn’t be all, because I still was feeling very depressed and hopeless and lonely, although paradoxically the living room was full of people who came to me, at least theoretically. But I knew that if I came to them, the feeling of loneliness wouldn’t decrease. And I was just as crappy as I didn’t feel in weeks already. And then before I even fully realised what I’m doing, I cut myself. Again. Ughhh… Then, of course, endorphines started to work. But again, just for a while.
So I decided that I need to call my therapist. Well I’ve told you already that she isn’t my therapist any longer formally, but since I don’t have any other regular therapy instead, she checks in with me from time to time, like once a month or so. She’s very busy and has a few jobs, so it’s often hard for her to carve out some time. That’s why I was almost sure she won’t be able to talk.
But she was. And it already felt like a huge relief. I told her how unstable and chaotic I feel and like I can burst out with any minute and how unsafe I feel because of that and that I have no clue what could cause it, only that it may be some unprocessed stuff from the past or something like this. Then while talking to her about all that, I realised that it might be also due to PMS, as I have it. There was a little discussion about PMS on one of the lists I’m on exactly the same day, but I didn’t realise it may be due to PMS, or partly because of it, before I started to talk about it to my therapist.I talked to her about what’s going on in my life. That recently I am having sleep paralysis and all the scary dreams regularly again so often wake up pretty exhausted before I even start doing something more constructive. I also talked to her about my anxiety levels which are shifting quite a lot now, sometimes I can feel almost no anxiety and then suddenly it just hits me so strong that it’s sometimes really hard to stand it. Sometimes I even don’t see the reason of such reaction very clearly. And it’s often hard to hide from people that I am anxious, which I hate, because it still makes me quite unsafe when I know or even suppose that other people may realise what I’m feeling at the moment. I told her that I often feel like I don’t get myself AT ALL and how it damn frustrates me. And that I cut myself and now am frustrated about that too. We also talked briefly about my social anxiety in connection to my birthday. She already knows that this school year is extremely hard for me because of the final exams coming in May and stuff related to that as well as because I feel very unsecure about my future and it just looks so shitty and hopeless to me. So she asked me also about these things and how I am doing school wise. I told her that besides that previous exam session being much tougher for me emotionally than I’d expect and how drained I was afterwards, it’s fairly well with this now, I decided to slow down before the next term starts ’cause I feel I really need it and now I’m trying to think about school and my future as little as possible, but I think I’ll have a gap year before I’ll start with any further education. Just to have more time to consider what would be the best for me and also to recharge after this year. And maybe gain some new skills like a new language, find another job, so I’ll have more money either to save for the future or spare just for things I enjoy since I can do this now as I live with my family. That’s what my Mum told me would be wise to do, to take a gap year, and I think so too. My therapist said it’s reasonable indeed. We also talked about my relationship with my Dad, which was always difficult, complicated I mean, but rather good and recently started to break down a bit which worries me and makes me a bit confused. And we talked a lot about many different emotions and feelings and the content of my dreams and other things that are a bit too private to put it here, plus some of them are still fairly difficult for me to talk about.
Anyway, she was able to put some of the weight off me and I felt a little bit more uplifted, even just the fact that she was accessible for me and I had someone supportive to talk to did a lot for me. I felt much more encouraged and not so much hopeless, although it still wasn’t ideally.
She told me that she’s of course not a doctor, but she thinks I am in a lot of distress because of all that what’s going on and if she’d be me, she’d ask my doc to put me on Afobam again.
I was taking Afobam some time ago for a while and it really worked for me so I think it’s not a bad thought and I think I’ll do it next week. Also she told me she would really like to be able to schedule some regular sessions for me, ’cause that’s definitely what I need in her opinion, so she said it would be good if I could find someone who would provide me support on a regular basis. THat may not be as easy though, but I was also thinking about it a lot recently, so looks like it’s time for it.
Misha was still with me as talked to my therapist and purred loudly. I think there really might be something more to that theory that animals are very good at feeling our emotions, he was just so sweet that day. Or maybe he realised it was my birthday haha.
So when we finished, I went downstairs to see what’s up and helped my Mum a bit to tidy up and then went straight to bed with Misha, as I still felt quite depressed and exhausted. The next day I talked to my Mum about my call with the therapist and what we talked about and generally about everything related. She isn’t always very understanding, but was very supportive when I talked to her and we talked honestly and openly for about an hour which I really appreciated. And my Mum also told me she feels like she might have PMS right now, ’cause that day was also hard for her. I didn’t have that overwhelming feeling of too many mixed emotions inside me any longer, although was still feeling depressive throughout the day. But it wasn’t as scary as on Thursday, it really made a huge difference for me.
Today, besides poor sleep again and still feeling a bit depressive, I feel much more stable. My therapist checked in with me today in the morning via email and seemed very pleased to hear about my conversation with Mum. So that’s it, I really hope it’ll get only better from now on. Hope you all are having great weekend. 🙂

Stifle *long post*

Sorry, it might be a bit chaotic. I rarely open up so much to people so I got a bit emotional.    Also very sorry for being so late with this prompt, I actuallly wrote it much earlier, but the URL I inserted was wrong.

Some triggers might be possible.
So today, thanks to Daily Post, as a non native English speaker, I’ve learnt a new great word, which is stifle. I am a lover of words in all “my” languages, so yay I’m happy.
So because of this, I wanted to share with you my coping with life strategy, which I’ve learnt during my time in boarding school and now trying to unlearn. I hope it will help someone with similar experiences, as well as myself. This “coping strategy” is as you can guess, stifling them. Why I was doing it?
First of all I think that because I am an introvert, I have always had a tendency to do it. My Dad is a professional kind of stifler and has been one as long as I can remember, but not as professional as me. But since I went to boarding school, I quickly started to have a feeling, that my emotions aren’t really valid. I don’t know if anyone thought so, but that was just how I felt. I didn’t feel good there for many reasons and it was always a nightmare for me to go back there. I know that most of the kids didn’t felt it like this. Sure, not all of them liked school, most kids don’t, they surely missed their families, but noone seemed to have it all to such a degree and to have such issues with adapting there. I was having these issues for all the time I was there. I know only one girl who had it similar to me, luckily her mum noticed it quickly and took her from there in primary. So generally I felt much like an alien, to whom no one can really relate. I felt incredibly weak and hypersensitive because I couldn’t deal with things normal kids dealt without a bigger trouble and, besides some obvious homesickness and other stuff like that, liked it there. Plus I was always kind of individualistic, so didn’t blend in well in the surroundings, while blending with the surroundings was very well-seen there. I know people, both the staff and the kids, thought it is strange that I have other interests than the majority and often prefer just to be alone than in the crowd of people.
In first few years I tended to talk to my Mum in details how I feel and how lonely and stressed etc. I feel all the time, but one day I realised that one of the staff is listening very carefully to what I talk to her about. She came to me then and told me with quite a particular tone in her voice: “You know, if you have a problem, with feelings or something, we can always discuss it on the meeting”. They had group meetings almost every evening there, so girls from a particular group met with their staff and either read something, or discussed things etc.
Maybe I am weird, but I didn’t feel very reassured by that. I needed time to trust people to share my feelings with them. I needed at least some proof that they are really involved. I didn’t want my deepest feelings to be “discussed” by everyone publicly. The more that I just knew they couldn’t understand me, even if they genuinely would like.
So my reaction was a silent rebellion. I thought that NO – from now on, noone will have access to my feelings. I am not a book, to read my emotions and “discuss” and maybe even review if they are “positive” or “negative”. I need to protect myself. I need to have at least some space for myself and this space will be my feelings, which will be just my own, noone else’s.
And you know what? I didn’t even really had to try in any special way to stifle everything. As I now remember it, I feel like it was just I had this outburst of anger and silent rebellion one evening and woke up with a marble mask all over me.
I also stopped to confide to my Mum, firstly because I was now more conscious that walls have ears, but also because I knew she’s worried. I knew from other people that when she’s coming back home after leaving me at school, she’s crying in the car and then at home sometimes too. Since those days I was always feeling guilty whenever I was talking to her about some more complicated stuff that is going on in my life or even just in my head or even if I just noticed a sign of worry in her and suspected it might be because of me.
Teachers, boarding school staff and some kids I was relatively close to, like my roommates, started to see the change relatively late. I tried to not change my attitude totally. On the outside, when I chose to be with other kids, I tried my best to be humourous, likeable, interesting, but as distanced as it was possible at the same time. I had trouble suppressing such emotions like joy or fascination, but never showed up any so called negative, especially, NEVER EVER, anger. With time, I decided to open up just a bit to one of my roommates, as we liked each other quite much and thought we are best friends. Or maybe we both just pretended to be ones, I don’t know. It wasn’t about my feelings regarding boarding school and that stuff though, but anyway, then I felt quite a big regret that I did it, it turned out to not be the right thing to do. But then I’ve bottled up quite a lot of it and, very rarely, from time to time, like once a year maybe, or twice, I started to have quite impressive meltdowns. Like all the anger, all the tears were coming out of me for little to no reason. And people were like… quite astonished. I was too. ‘Cause even before I started to stifle everything, I was rather calm. It felt like it’s not me. While in fact I was having a meltdown, yelling at people, making everything around fly all over the room, and crying, or having hysteria, I felt like I am standing beside and looking without many more emotions than just astonishment. I was just like: “Oh wow! Is this me?”. The next day I was scared though. Most often I didn’t even remember that much of a meltdown itself, but only thinking about not having control at all over your actions… it’s still quite frightening for me. And I felt exactly like I couldn’t gain any control during such meltdowns. It just had to leave me on its own, I couldn’t really help and stop it.
So then one of the staff started to think something must be really much more wrong with me than she always have thought before and talked to my Mum. But, although I didn’t put off my marble-icy mask at home totally, I was a bit more at ease and spontaneous, and didn’t have any meltdowns at all, so she didn’t see anything concerning and actually didn’t really believe in what that lady told her.
But she did notice some things soon and started to think about some alternative for me, I mean, alternative school.
And so for two years, at the age of 10 and 11, I was going to an integration school, much closer to my home, well not that close really, but it made a huge difference for me because I could be at home everyday after school and felt like I am incredibly lucky. I was always jealous about kids in such situation.
So it was better, but my attitude didn’t change, I actually even forgot about what I told myself about protecting myself and not giving other people access to my emotions, it just was going on its own now. I had to remind it to myself a few years ago. So the problem wasn’t really solved. All those emotions seemed to sit with me, and although I felt lucky and grateful that I am at home, I didn’t feel really happy.
I had neurosis, different psychosomatic symptoms like migraines or nausea or other crappy stuff, suicidal thoughts, everything felt very overwhelming, like any activity I had to do craved a lot of motivation, which I actually didn’t have, I was constantly depressed, anxious. It was then when I started to have symptoms of emetophobia and other speciffic phobias, although I really can’t recall any particular event that could trigger it, I just started to be more and more afraid of this and that even if I previously wasn’t and soon it became just a very strong anxiety, hard to deal on a daily basis.
After those two years, something happened, that’s another long story, anyway my Mum and me realised that I need to change school again. And, looking at things practically, there weren’t many more reasonable options for me than going back to that boarding school for the blind. I saw it too. My Mum knew that it would crave a lot of strength from me to come back there again, so to encourage me more she said she’ll do her best to make my biggest dream come true if I’ll be strong enough to come there again. Which she did a few years later. So yeah I decided to go there and burn myself all over once again. After all we live in the civilised world and everyone needs to have some education, I wanted to have it too, it’s not that I didn’t.
After the break it was even more hard. During my two years outside of that environment I was even more different, gained some strange interests and fears.
So it all clicked in the mind of that lady who talked to my Mum about me not expressing feelings and what she got of it is she started to think I must be on autistic spectrum.
So again she alarmed my Mum and talked it through with her. My Mum was frightened. Literally.
I needed to go back to school during summer holidays because they wanted to examine me for Asperger’s. I was twelve then so they didn’t really discussed it all with me before, I just got to know I will be examined in July and there will be some professionals from an autism centre. But, I was a very curious child. I liked to learn new things, I liked to observe the world and for some reason, especially people’s behaviours and personalities, in as big degree as it could be possible for a blind child. And also I was starting to be very interested in psychology and medicine. In our school, there were many kids on autism spectrum. Most of them were rather very low-functioning, some were Aspies. And I liked to observe them all and their behaviours too. Most of them seemed quite weird for me, but I could even relate to some. Like their aversion to changes for instance. Also when I was living at home, I listened to a radio programme where a lady from this exact autism centre was speaking about Asperger’s syndrome. So although they didn’t literally tell me who will examine me and what is ther job in general, as soon as I heard the name of the centre, I started to have a bit of a clue what’s going on.
I tink it was a bit unhonest of them to not tell me what they actually want to do and what they are concerned about. I know I was just a kid and kids shouldn’t know everything what is talked about them, but… it made me really worried. I started to feel even more abnormal and not validated at all. So I hid even more. The thing I remembered the best about ASD was that people with it tend to have interests, which were rather rare and tend to be extremely good at any particular thing. A bit stereotypical maybe, but that was what they said in that programme and it caught my attention, as it fit me in some way. I always felt quite uncommon because of my interests. And that thing with changes and adaptivity… I was wondering about it all the time. It wasn’t that I was afraid about having Asperger’s… well, probably I was, getting a diagnosis is most often a bit anxiety provoking for people and I’m sure I wouldn’t be an exception. But I am sure I could accept it. It is more about the fact that because of how different I am, they wanted to proof me how unhealthy and abnormal it is. That I don’t have the right to be different. My Mum said it was because that staff was so caring about me, but didn’t I hear all comments, of hers and many others, about how I should change and be like the others? “ALl the kids do this, why don’t you?”. Things like that. I am not sure whether it can make sense for anyone else like me, but that’s simply how I feel.
But even when finally that day came and the lady from the autism centre came to examine me, noone told me what’s going on.
She was all smiles and sweetness and told me she wants to make “an interview” with me.
I don’t really remember what she asked me about, I was very stressed out and hypervigilant all day long then. So “the interview” was finally over and I still hadn’t have an idea what was going on. It was driving me just soo crrrazy.
So I couldn’t stand it any longer in the evening. I went out with my Mum, I wanted to be as far as possible from the school building, so we went for a walk and I asked her quite directly as for me what they suppose to be wrong with me. Am I mental or what?
So finally someone had mercy and told me that they suspect me to have Asperger’s.
Even though it was one of things I expected to hear, it was a massive shock to me and it was hard for me to not show it.
The next day I had some other tests and stuff and then the lady who did all these fascinating interviews with me said she sees that I might have autistic traits, but all that I show isn’t enough to put me on to autistic spectrum. Then she was clearing things up for my Mum and me. That very many people show autistic traits, but they aren’t on the spectrum etc. bla bla bla, as far as I can remember she even said there is a connection with blindness and autism, so there’s like higher risk or something. Actually I know that as a little child, before 6 years old I think, I had much more autistic or autism-like symptoms. Like sensorisms or being easily overstimulated and others. She also said laughing that my interests are too many to look like in typical autistic person and that although most of them are not typical, they are quite wide actually. Which I now agree with. She also talked with my Mum and the lady from the boarding school, who still expressed some doubts about the outcome of the interviews.
The lady from the autism centre told me some things that helped me to realise at least a bit that things I feel, fear, enjoy are more valid than I think.
After some time though the staff from boarding school decided to make one more test. They didn’t even tell my Mum about it only when it was already done. They took me to a psychological clinic where one very cold and self-confident lady wanted to talk to me.
The school staff had to tell her about my love for writing, I enjoyed writing fictional short stories back then very much.
They were about a little creature I’ve made up. I called him Parpill. And he had different adventures. Most often quite childish, but also some maybe a bit peculiar, like when he was in prison. 😀 Some were horrific a bit, like when his whole family got sick with malaria, but nothing too bad, just things most children in their early teens wouldn’t come up with. 😀 My Art teacher helped me to project him. Her husband worked in a printing house so she got me some so called professional paper and booklets and she herself ilustrated my short stories whenever she had some free time and wrote them in normal print after I wrote it in Braille. I really really enjoyed doing it with her. Now I have a whole series of my Parpills books at home and I am proud of them although they are very childish, but that’s obvious I guess.
So to my big surprise, that cold lady from the clinic, after some very basic questions, asked me straight away: “You write about the Parpills, right?”. “Yes I do”. “You believe they exist?”. “Errm… sorry, what do you mean?” “Do Parpills exist?” “Surely not! Why would they? They are my own creatures created by me, I wouldn’t like them to exist, everyone could see them then and knwo everything about them” “But do you see them?” “No I can’t see obviously and they don’t exist”. That’s of course not the exact dialogue, only some bits I remember now, some more ridiculous ones. Basically she insisted I do see my Parpills and I live in my imaginary world and I should be more in the reality. So she told me that if I want to write anything, I would do much better if I’d write about our everyday life in the group.
You know guys, she couldn’t say something more wrong to me. I think that then my individualism was maybe even a bit too much expressed, but as for the circumstances and my age it isn’t a big wonder for me. But what I want to say is that I hated to think about myself as “a part of the group”, or class, or as an element of pretty much any community besides my family.
If you have any doubts yet, I obviously didn’t write anything about the group. But I also didn’t write anything about Parpill since then.
I don’t know when they told my Mum about that appointment, but I got to know everything about it years afterwards. I had already left that school and talked to my Mum about it. She told me they wanted to diagnose me with schizophrenia. And it’s still difficult for me to believe in it. Cuz… why? Or maybe Parpills really exist but I am schizophrenic because I deny it and claim I created them? Freaky world. I don’t get it anyway. Mum said that she was very irritated by that when the staff told her about what they did and she didn’t believe it either. So they kept apologising her and that they thought so because of me being so withdrawn and “overly imaginative” and because of the anxiety and that they know they did wrong and that psychologist was wrong as well, they know I don’t believe in Parpills.
Now as I think about it more, I am laughing, with some frustration, but laughing, but it really wasn’t fun when I got to know all that from my Mum, especially that I was in quite a crisis then even besides it.
Then they stopped with making up diagnoses for me, luckily. I am interested what would be their next pick. 😀
But my emotional issues stayed with me and sharpened. At the age of 15-ish I started to self harm. I didn’t have any meltdowns any longer. I cut myself and relished physical pain because it let me run away from all the MishMash inside me. Plus I could proof myself I am strong, at least with pain, if not mentally. It has always been my kind of complex, that I am not enough strong mentally, ’cause I haven’t dealt well enough with all that I had to deal. I also burned myself. But I didn’t want my scars to be visible, like it wasn’t because I wanted attention. I just wanted to manage it somehow. And i made myself ill on purpose, either to just be left alone and not need to do anything, as I was very depressed and even things like getting dressed were like huge challenges, or because I wanted home/not go back to school, or just for to self harm and maybe even die, accidentally, it wouldn’t be that bad. So I did things like walking barefoot on the snow on our terrace to go to school. Yes I know, really crazy things. I wasn’t very suicidal like hadn’t suicidal ideations, but often thought how nice it would be to just die and not exist.
I used I-doses. For those of you who don’t know what Idoser and Doses are, Idoser is an app and Doses are binaural sounds used with that app, that impact your brain like drugs do. They say they’re not addictive, but they make damage to the brain. I didn’t know it at first, I just wanted to use them to have some relief and also it was my way of rebellion. My school was religious, I started to be a Goth and turned myself back from God. I believed in Emilie Autumn instead lol. And wanted to be Wiccan. I didn’t realise that I am also worrying my family, who are genuinely and deeply religious. You can’t use drugs in school area. But I felt smarter than their rules. I was doing it. And no one, besides a few girls of my group and a few classmates with whom I shared some Doses, didn’t know anything.
And I practiced things like OOBE, LD and stuff, which seemed to give me some relief at first, but complicated things even more with time. And I think now that they also contributed to that my sleep is even worse and that I have sleep paralysis regularly. My Mum thinks so too.
After some time eople started to see that I do really strange things with myself, some nuns tried to talk to me about out of body experiences and lucid dreams that they are bad, that I shouldn’t use drugs wherever I get them or whatever it is I take. But I didn’t care and I kept denying that I take anything. Or actually I did care, I started to notice it was bad, but I didn’t want to stop, ’cause it still provided a relief.
I gave up on these things only when I started to rediscover Christianity and realised how bad it all is. Plus it was just my way of saying help me.
But with self harm I struggle to these days. Sometimes I may not cut for months, my record is about nine months, but it still comes back when I have a lot of emotions.
It also happened a few times that I felt very high and agitated, just exploding with joy, was alone at home, felt like I desperately need to talk with someone about it, but what I did was I cut myself. And I only realised afterwards what I actually did. Ugh…
I left the school at the age of seventeen with a master degree in stifling feelings. Sadly, I suppose that’s what I’ve learnt there the best.
It’s not that I only had bad things happening to me there. I would be extremely ungrateful to say so, but still, mainly bad things.
The next school year after I lived I went to the psychiatrist who was very helpful for me and, what I appreciated the most, honest and open. She finally called my problem by it’s name, said that I suppress all my emotions and that I have reactive depression.
It was four years ago. Now I still struggle with stifling emotions. I am conscious of it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t struggle. It’s always very hard for me to tell people what I feel, to open up to them and to express it. It’s hard for me to tell them what I feel to them. Sometimes I perceive talking to someone about my feelings simply as a disgrace. And sometimes I stifle everything before I can even think. That’s why people may think I am not honest with them, or even two-faced, cold and haughty. Moreover, I myself sometimes ask myself what I really feel and what is true about me. I am good at introspection, naming and differentiating feelings and see them very well in others, but my own feelings seem to hide from me so often or mix together so I can’t often even tell what exactly I feel ’cause it’s like a blending of many many emotions and I see them as from a distance. Or I can’t tell why even more often. I know a lot about myself, but some areas are totally unknown for me, and that sucks. It’s hard to work with yourself and process things when you feel like you don’t have connection with yourself. But I try, and I think I’m making some baby steps forward. Of course there are always three steps backwards and one step forward, but it’s always something. Especially that as for now I don’t have regular therapy. I talk with my former therapist on the phone from time to time, she always thinks about me and finds some time for me and it even happened that when I was in crisis and had noone to talk openly to, she was able and willing to talk to me at such crazy times like 6 AM, even though had so many other things to do. But she’s really very busy and needed to cut out some people’s hours from her schedule, as she has many clients and also other jobs. A few of them! But we talk like once a month and the rest of the work is entirely mine. It’s hard.
What I’d like to tell you in this post is that if you do this too, if you stifle your emotions for any reason, it’s not a cure for your problem. It’s inversely. It will only worsen everything. It’s a simple physical reaction. You can’t pull everything you feel inside. With time, there won’t be anymore place and you will just explode. In this way, or another. And believe me, none of these ways is nice or helpful to your life situation. I know it’s hard to unlearn it, but at least try to. It will truly help you.
For those of you who don’t struggle with tis issue. If you know someone who seems to be detached, like they don’t care for others or don’t show their affection, are cold, haughty or don’t trust you where as you think they should, because you are in relationship for instance, please try to not be judgmental. It’s very likely just their mask. It’s difficult, but try to look a bit deeper. Try to help them get rid of it. Are you still here? 😀
Congrats, and a big thank you, if you got through this post. It matters a lot to me. I can’t believe I wrote all that. I’m not really sure I did well, but maybe it will help someone. And I feel a bit lighter as I wrote about it. Again, thanks for reading. 🙂
Ugh, wanted to write post with Misha, as it is his birthday today, or rather was, because it’s already past midnight here, wanted to pick a song of the day and write other stuff, but seems like it’ll have to wait.