Written Whispers

So, for part of my therapy I’m supposed to be taking specific not so great memories and writing one fact per line about that situation. Just the black and white facts without the emotions and drama. Then I take them to my next appointment and little by little we’ll add the other- more painful, parts like feelings in. The idea is that I’m exposing myself to the crap and then working through it and reprocessing the memories (because trauma memories are stored in a different part of the brain).

I’m not explaining it very well but it does make to me.

It’s taken me till tonight to even think about working on it- I think a short story idea of mine brought on some specific thoughts that just kind of rolled down hill from there. I don’t really want to work on it… for my own reasons but now that I’ve done one memory I’m tempted to take on another though the darker places in my mind caution me against getting drawn in too far.

I had two choices, I could work on my earliest memory or my worst. Taking the easy path I chose my earliest because there was no way, or I hadn’t thought there was, for me to pick one thing out of the jumbled knot and say it was the worst.

Until I thought about it.

And then it was easy.

The writer in me would love to share it here just because it’s fresh in my mind and my fingers are on the keys ready to go- but,… I’m not going to. I don’t want to travel down that path knowing that if I fall off in one direction or another I don’t have any kind of safety net ready to grab me.

That and it’s not precisely content I would wish on any frequent reader of mine let alone someone who might be passing by.

My head is full of thoughts tonight.

I am remembering things. Fractured sort of things that leave a bitter, burning sensation in my stomach. It’s like walking in a spider’s web full of broken glass. I can’t help but get caught in sticky silken threads, following one or another until I brush a sharp bit of mirror or window. Sometimes the pain of the memory redirects me to another, sometimes I find myself transported at random, and sometimes all the broken glass just forces me to try another thread- wading through ghosts of the past till I find my way out.

I sat down and told myself I’d go around and leave comments on all my favorite blogs- as I’ve been muchly lax lately, but alas I’m tired and all I want to do is write so I can get some sleep tonight. I have some thoughts I need to deal with and as therapy is… on the fence right now I think I’ll stick to trusted and true as far as venting goes and just make a post about it.

I’m not sure I’m doing alright.

I’ve had these weird crying fits the past three nights. The first night I was listening to my MP3 player- just some soft music to help me wind down, and then suddenly I was half paralyzed with things I was afraid of and circular thoughts that wouldn’t let me go. I think I cried more out of frustration than anything. It was just a brief quiet sob to myself to let some of the pressure out and then… well, it didn’t make me feel better. It clogged up my sinuses but I kept flipping through my music till I found something monotonous enough to lull me to sleep.

The next night was probably my fault in some sense. I was mentally working on some story ideas- again, lying there to go to sleep, as I tend to do some nights when the creative juices are flowing exceedingly well, and I’m pretty sure I stumbled onto a trigger (for those who don’t know, a trigger is something, anything, that ‘triggers’ traumatic memories or PTSD episodes). Suddenly I found my brain going back and forth- for a moment my mind would be on the emotions my character was going through and then I would be transported back to my own past for a moment. Another second later and I’d be working on the character again.

I don’t know how to explain just how weird it was but I honestly couldn’t escape the little cycle. I knew my own thoughts were hurting me, that working on that bit of that story was hurting me but I couldn’t turn away from it or focus on anything else. My brain was playing ping pong and going back and forth so fast I couldn’t do anything but hang on let alone try to figure out how to stop it.

I think part of it has to do with my old habits of self punishment- where I felt I deserved to be in pain. The memories I was having had to do with that- the times I was trying to be good by punishing myself. It was like reliving it all over again and that horrible despairing feeling, and worse- the acceptance on such despair, was enough to make me cry again. When I was done with that bout of silent sobbing I was so tired I just laid there kind of numb until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.

Last night was different. It was a few hours before I even planed on sleeping- I was in my shower and then I just started crying suddenly. It was so weird I stood there in shock for a moment before asking myself out loud “What am I crying for?” The more my mind reeled the more the tears came. After that my poor husband had to spend about an hour and a half convincing me I didn’t get nearly as much sleep as I needed earlier (so exhausted from the previous night I had to cat nap) and should go to bed.

I don’t know why I kept trying to stay up. I mean I have plenty of reasons to choose from but I’m not really sure if those are ‘the’ reasons. I don’t mind crying. I believe there’s nothing wrong with a perfectly good cry- provided my sinuses are up to the extra abuse so I know that’s not the reason. I get some pretty horrid nightmares sometimes but this doesn’t feel like the anxiety I have for sleeping that comes after a particularly terrible one.

The more I think about it the more I think it has something to do with that moment of ‘empty space.’ To clarify- before I go to sleep, during my showers, and a few other unguarded moments in my day I have little going through my mind. I’m relaxed and there’s all this free space for me to think about different things. I can avoid that when I’m wide awake. I’ve learned how to read a short story, listen to some new lyrics, keep up with a television show, hold a chat conversation, mentally work out some codes for a new web design AND play Tetris all at once. This is the equivalent of my moment by moment every day lately. I can’t not be busy because my mind takes off without me and once it’s gone so am I.

*sigh* I’m tired right now. I’m half falling asleep right now but something in me is tempted to write some more about the specific memories from the other night though I think that’s part in procrastination and part in self harm- neither of which are good for me so I’ll just end this post here.

I wish I understood.