I feel like I’m losing my mind, I certainly can’t see the wood for the trees right now. There’s an anger bubbling away in the pit of my stomach that’s threatening to boil over at the slightest provocation. A few weeks ago, Therapist 2.0 had me think about a particular situation from the perspective of the different parts of me, which meant in the first instance I had to identify what my emotions were, and then I had to try and look at them with my compassionate mind. At the time, they were predominantly anger, fear, and anxiety.
This time? There are two situations, both tied in with each other. One is the on-going saga of my (in)capacity to work, the other is the state of limbo that leaves me in. Mostly I’m angry. I’m also frustrated in the extreme, guilty, anxious…..there may be others but they’re what are jumping out right now.
So. Angry first. What does my angry part want to say?
This is all a crock of absolute bullshit. There is NOTHING wrong with me. Nothing. I have too much time on my hands, no structure on my day, and I’m just wasting all of it. I don’t want to go back to work because I don’t like my job, but that’s hardly justification for staying out any longer. I want to be a writer. So what? How many people actually get to do what they want to do in life? What makes me so bloody special? Writing isn’t going to pay any bills. Everyone else has to get up and go to work, whether they want to or not. You’re not a writer. You don’t have a special calling in life. Grow up.
(*from a slightly less angry perspective I’m finding it quite interesting that anger hopped right on over into the second person – I started out talking about ‘I’ and finished by shouting at ‘you’).
Pretty much everything angry said, but also, why am I still going round in circles about all this?? Why on earth am I still thinking about Therapist 1.0? Fucking let it go! It’s been over a year. I can guarantee she hasn’t given me a second thought in that time so why am I still agonising over her? If there really is some deep seated trauma, why can’t I just remember what it is? And if I can’t remember, why is it causing so much grief? Maybe there is no trauma. Maybe the only real trauma is the one I’m creating for myself by leaving myself hanging in this ridiculous state of limbo.
I’m hiding. I can’t create the reality that I want, so I’m hiding from the reality I have. But that’s a really shitty way to be. I know what I need to be doing, but I’m not doing it. Why? Why can’t I just get the finger out? I’ve been given all this time, and yet when the kids are at school, I’m either agonising over what I ‘should’ be doing (ie yoga, mindfulness etc etc), or doing it and feeling guilty because I should be doing (insert any form of housework)
I’m going to be found out. I’m going to be recognised for the fraud that I am. What if this is all just in my head?
I’m so tired. I’m tired of listening to my parts. I’m tired of trying to work out the compassionate alternative. I suspect the crux of it right now is that in some way, if I get back to work, it means I’m fixed. There’ll be no more mental health drama, I won’t miss Therapist 1.0 any more, I won’t have to struggle with getting off meds.
But that’s not true, is it? Getting back to work now, right now, doesn’t mean any of those things. It means I’m putting myself in a position where I’m pretty much guaranteed to fail. I cannot meet the expectations (and very reasonable ones at that) of those around me, because the issues with how I think, how I behave, how I feel about 1.0, meds…….they can’t be turned off. They won’t go away just because I don’t want them anymore. How many times have I tried that? How many times has it ended in spectacular failure? Here’s what would be likely to happen if I went back. Whatever chance I have of fitting in what I need as things are now, it will get 100% harder when work is in the mix. I’ll get depressed again because I won’t have the capacity to stop it. And then I’ll end up right back where I started this time last year – being signed out because I’m unstable and unreliable.
I was about to type that I hate that about myself. I hate being unreliable. But I’m not sure hate is the right word. I think it’s more that it makes me really, really sad. I used to be so on my game. I used to be able to cope, to manage, I was so efficient, so reliable. But then………..then life got bigger than I could cope with. I came up against some really nasty people who utterly broke me. I had babies. We hit a recession. I was able to cope as long as it was just me and I could keep everything very contained, because what I did didn’t impact anyone else. It’s not just me any more, it hasn’t been for a long time, and keeping things as contained as I need simply isn’t possible any more.
I wonder if going back to work would be a very subtle, very subconscious, but effective means of sabotaging myself? If I have to put my energy into work it gives me very worthy justification for not directing my energy where it needs to be, and it also gives me a spectacular stick to beat myself with if/when the wheels fall off. Maybe I’m getting closer to the central issue(s). Maybe my threat system knows this and is doing everything possible to stop me from going there.
I still don’t know what the root of all this is. I’m not scared of it any more though. I want to find it, because I want to rip it out and throw it as far from me as I possibly can. Whatever it is, how ever significant or otherwise, it has controlled my entire life. That needs to stop.