Feeling sad today.
Not normal sad. That base layer of melancholy that's just kind of always with me.
Today is much more substantial. I don't really know why.
My last therapist and I would have disagreements about which comes first:
thoughts or feelings.
He was on Team Thoughts. He believed that if I could challenge and learn to control my thoughts I wouldn't feel the way I am feeling right now.
But I don't think (or feel) that's how it works for me.
I had a perfectly enjoyable day. Did some work for this writing gig I've got then worked at the bookstore. My co-worker gave me this great compliment about how I'm a good listener and advice giver.
I wasn't thinking negative, self-harming thoughts at all.
In fact, I don't think I think that much about me generally.
I definitely do when I write on here, as this is my place to process things like this and complain about myself and be a little narcissist princess or whatever.
But generally speaking, I mostly think about ideas. I think about history and philosophy and writing and the state of the world and sex and stuff.
I tend not to dwell on my own misery. Not nearly as much as it seems people assume I do.
Being inside my brain and body is deeply uncomfortable.
I'd much rather escape into the parts of my mind that don't hurt.
But what I can often forget until it's far too late is that ignoring emotional needs does not make them go away.
The opposite actually.
And so, sometimes, I just start feeling guilt and shame and anxiety and fathomless loneliness and emptiness.
I know that what one trauma researcher called "emotional flashbacks" are a factor here. I know that was when I was putting books away, one cover reminded me of something which reminded me quickly of a someone that I had embarrassed myself in front of close to nine years ago.
I caught myself saying out loud "fuck, fuck, fuck, I am so sorry." I'm not sure if I said it loud enough for my co-worker to hear me, but he looked my way, so he might have.
But that sort of thing happens to me at least a dozen times a day. I am hardly ever present. Always time traveling to traumatic memories and shameful moments far too trivial to be remembered but that I cannot forget.
Which is to say that my sadness today was probably not a result of that. Though I am sure it didn't help.
I am sure there is a reason. Some trigger, some something under the surface.
Contrary to the belief of my polite but very young Canadian therapist, I don't think I ended up in this feeling because of some thought I was thinking.
With me, it always starts with feelings.
And I know well enough now not to allow my brain to go thinking for thoughts to justify what I feel. I know I can always find a "why" and fixate on that like it will solve all my problems. Part of me wants to believe that I am sad right now because my roommate used my brand new blender without my permission before I even got to use it.
But the rest of me knows that isn't really it. I don't give a shit about that.
I am just feeling the things I am feeling.
Alone, unimportant, undesired, spiritually drained.
And there's nothing to do about it other than to sit with those feelings and accept them and love them and myself as best as I can.
I hope that's enough to keep me from slipping back into the deep dark depression I was in most of all last year. I literally don't think I could survive it.
I am hoping mindfulness and compassion works and I can bounce back into at least not feeling outright despair.
I hope I can muster enough hope to keep moving.
5:48 p.m. - 2020-08-06
Recent entries:
Step by Step (ooh, baby) (That's a New Kids on the Block reference in case you are under 40) - 2020-11-12
a book of a thousand chapters starts with a single word - 2020-11-08
Bitter - 2020-10-16
Day to Day - 2020-10-13
168 - 2020-08-08
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