ICU

I have spent countless hours in tears trying to write everything that follows. Overwhelmed by both ill-defined pain and sadness, as I try to sift through foggy memories, which feel dissociated from time. Why am I crying this time? Am I sad? Angry? Or do I just feel some sort of hollow pain, like my chest is caving in? It’s complicated because the same memory can cause a different emotional reaction every time it comes up. Sometimes, your understanding of a situation changes over time, shifting your emotional response to the memory; other times, you simply focus on a different aspect of the memory, triggering a different emotional response. In reality, those memories carry a constantly evolving mix of emotions, where generally positive memories can also be the harbingers of anger, sadness, or pain. Conversely, generally negative memories [such as those from a bad relationship, injury, loss, or misfortune] can have positive elements inseparably threaded within them, creating a bit of an emotional schism. The more you talk about it and work through it, the more you start to understand what specific parts of the memory trigger the different emotional responses; that’s not to say you will ever be able to fully make it make sense, but that’s why you get a therapist. It’s like having a positive memory about an abusive ex; at first it just feels fucked up and confusing but eventually, you hopefully get to the point where you understand what it was that they did that made you feel happy so you know what to look for in a more deserving partner and also understand that that ex is a POS not worthy of your time. In my case, it’s about allowing myself to find and enjoy the little happy moments, experienced during a highly traumatic period of my life.     

Regardless, each time, I have to fight to breathe normally and stop the tears because, as it turns out, voice-to-text programs have a hard time understanding a literal sob story. To my benefit, as quickly as I’m overcome by those negative feelings, they fade away and I can suddenly see things as more logical and manageable. The thoughts, memories, and feelings that, just a minute ago caused me to cry uncontrollably, now seem to make me laugh. There seems to be two predominant sides to my personality throughout recovery: the sad, scared, and damaged person who doesn’t know how long we can last; and the happy, optimistic, and logical person who can endure just about anything. Now, it wasn’t always just one or the other with a distinct switch between, but rather two sides of my personality playing tug-of-war for control over my outward personality.

Anyway, it’s time to do my best to morph into my tun state [cryptobiotic state used for self-preservation], shutting down all but the most essential functions, and see just how much of a tardigrade I can actually be…