Hello again. It is I, another rando on the Internet.
I haven’t been blogging so much recently. What with constant shielding for nearly six months, I haven’t had much to say.
Being locked down for so long was a drama. A ton of shit went down over that time, and I don’t feel like anyone came out of it the same. G and I almost broke up multiple times, everybody was triggered, and I think we were all individually suicidal at least once.
But you know what? It kind of forced some resilience into all of us. G, R and I are all reeeeeally bad at saying no to others and making time for our own needs. We’ve each been forced to put ourselves first a few times.
I learned that I might not always be a nice person, but I’m fucking hella strong. I learned that I need to stop trying so hard. I learned that I don’t do great when I’m alone for prolonged periods, and have found ways to socialise safely or virtually.
Some really disturbing, dark shit came up and hit me out of nowhere. Flashbacks of stuff I had never remembered up until that point. It explains so much. The mistrust. The dissociation. Why my body just doesn’t work right. There was a part of me that always wondered (worried? suspected?) if something really dark had happened to me. So much of the way I was just didn’t make sense. I felt crazy for such a long time. It was almost a relief to remember.
I went through an almost inevitable period of feeling ashamed, fearful, and wondering if it was my fault. It absolutely was not my fault, and it didn’t take me long to work that out. The flashbacks are less frequent and my dreams are back to their normal, bizarre, vivid but generally not frightening selves.
I’m looking for a trauma therapist; I think it would be good for me to work on my mistrust and self esteem issues. But it feels like the trauma is just one small part of my life, rather than taking over it, and I can accept that.
Venturing outdoors occasionally has been really healing, as has focusing on my studies and my future. Life goes on, even after you realise you’re definitely insane.
I’ve been cooking and baking a lot, and trying to grow things in pots. I’m a little worried my sweet potato slips will die; they really need to be potted soon but my compost order hasn’t arrived yet, so I’m just anxiously checking on them and talking to them every day.
Plants are really good at reminding you that everything is temporary. Even after shit really hits the fan, it can still get better. Of course, it will get worse again some time, but that’s life.
Accepting that we have very little control over our lives really helped me get mine together. Slowly, I’m getting over my crippling fear of failure and dishonouring my parents. I actually enjoy life now, and can think about the future without having a panic attack.