I need to abstain from tumblr for the next two weeks as I’m approaching the exam weeks of hell. :|Fantastic.
One last personal post before I go though - what led to my decision to see a psych, one major change as a result of those sessions and how that is related to my next two weeks of hell. 950ish word post, so I cut off here.
Well, about six months ago, there were a few catalysts in my decision to see a psychologist - lifetime of being disciplined via shame (ie. the you’re badinstead of what you did was bad), realisation of my emotional deprivation (didn’t get enough emotional support when young), episode of depersonalisation (in which I felt numbness and like both the driver and passenger in a car), unabashed hatred and denial of existence of said passenger, perfectionism (which really meant I only liked myself when I did things right, and nobody’s perfect), hopelessness after mum changed her mind and denied me to go on an exchange year (that probably sounds spoiled, but you have no idea what that exchange year meant to me; I’ll probably write about it later), and well, the list really could go on and on.
: | Oh my, it really couldgo on and on. I’ve never listed this stuff before. When I look at it now, I realise just how… serious this was. Is. For a long time I tried to resist my feelings because I thought my issues were too trivial or that I was ‘too sensitive’ (there’s actually no such thing - for some reason, people like to shame others for having emotions and that’s not right) or that I chose to feel that way. I was ashamed -how dare I let myself down like this, what gives me the right to be this way. So many hurtful delusions. Self-hatred.
But back to the catalysts. The last straw was the depersonalisation. It was the complete and utter opposite of my ideals. To me, what makes life living is feeling alive. All my problems got too much, though - I didn’tfeel alive. I didn’t even feel, and that terrified me in some sort of distant way. Vaguely, I thought, ‘What happened to my humanity? Emotions are humanity, right?’ I didn’t want to be a robot. I want to be alive in some higher form than just breathing. I wanted tohope again.Believe, dream, try. I felt that continuing like that would be some form of suicide. Not a literal, physical one, but one on a spiritual or an emotional level. I felt like I’d be surrendering to everything that’s wrong with humanity, like I’d be making all my prior struggles useless.
So, I starting seeing a psychologist. And despite whatever my family said, there really is no shame in seeing one. Everyone needs help some time.
I really have changed since the start of those sessions, for the better.
I think one of the most startling changes happened after I snapped at my niece when she drew on the walls. I didn’t need to yell at her. At that age, kids understand body language very well - but they don’t really see the thought patterns underneath it. She doesn’t see beneath the lines ‘but I still love you’ unless it’s said out loud, and I didn’t say that. About a couple minutes after I started processing what I did. I wasn’t really thinking when I did it, it was a reflect - reflections of that has been done onto me. And I felt so, so, so bad. My exact thoughts were ‘What I did, oh no, What I did… that was bad. I shouldn’t have done that.’Then, right then and there, I felt a splash of shocked realisation. ‘Is this… Is this what guilt feels like?’ And yes, it was guilt, the first time I ever recall feeling it. Before that, it was shame - ‘I made a mistake and that makes me a horrible, horrible person’. Guilt is better - ‘I’m still okay as a person, but what I did was bad.’ Afterwards, I apologised, admitted that I was wrong, affirmed that my niece was a good person and that I love her, reminded that what she did was bad, and asked her to promise me to draw on paper instead of the walls.
More and more, I’ve been transition from shame to guilt, and I feel a lot better than I used to. Things still suck, but at least (with the new guilt thing) I’m actually starting to be more productive. See, the thing about shame is that it doesn’t produce any results. Talking about guilt and shame, nobody says it better than shame researcher Brene Brown (http://youtu.be/GdllwCXDyTA).
Recently, I’ve started getting my school life back on track, too. For a long time, I dropped the ball. Even though it’s my senior year. I was able to go onto special provisions, which meant that I didn’t have to adhere to the set deadlines. Right now, I’m in a really good head space to do work, even if I don’t really feel that great just yet.
Who knows what could have happened if I felt this way at the start of this year… I’m an A-student, but I’ve kind of royally fucked myself. Yes, special provisions, but the final deadline for a lot of things is in two weeks. Ranging from twofilms (one is almost done, the other I haven’t even finished the planning for), twobody of works (barely touched and each supposed to be completed over 12-weeks), maths assignment, script, english column, Japanese listening, speaking and writing tests; economics exam, a film critique and maths exam. Wheee, I’ve fucked myself. I think I’ll have to let go of my A-standards and fall to a C to get everything done.
But for once, I’m okay with that. There’s nothing wrong with me or my existence. I’ve made mistakes, but that doesn’t mean they’ll last forever. I’ll do what I can, and that’s enough. I am enough.
