This week has been kind of strange.
I started off feeling out of sorts after counseling, when I wrote my post about deafness. Afterward writing it, I felt freed from that memory, and it was so nice being able to connect with other deaf people and deaf allies, especially those of us who have struggled with parental rejection or even abuse because of our hearing loss. I want to say--you all are amazing. Thank you for reading and for commenting <3
Then, to make a long story short, I had some issues with being triggered while at work. I took Ativan to help me stay functional during the day (re, keep me from getting triggered even worse. Once I'm triggered, I'm very prone to further triggers). The issues that triggered me sent me into a downward spiral of self-loathing and depression. The mental tape and fear of not being good enough kept playing. I'm not good enough. Some of my wonderful Facebook friends saw my statuses (statii?) and commented or sent me a message. Thank you so much for the encouragement, if you're reading this--you know who you are.
This part sounds scary, so let me preface it with this: I often feel like there has to be an external cause to match internal feelings. Otherwise, my internal feelings aren't "valid," and I'm a spoiled brat. It's a programmed thing. Like Pavlov's dogs. And even though I know this about myself, I'm still having trouble teaching myself that my feelings are real.
So, with this in mind, on Tuesday, my thoughts kept turning to the idea that I might get hit by a car or a bus, and end up with some broken bones. It would give me a "reason" to feel bad. I even pondered what it would be like to cut myself. Would I have the guts to actually press the kitchen paring knife against my skin? These thoughts scared me, so I decided to go to bed.
During Wednesday, I was slowly able to turn my perspective upright, and I tried to tell myself affirming things. I'm okay. I'm a good worker. I'm doing alright. I think I did take another half of an Ativan yesterday, and it did help. I wasn't so on edge anymore. Thank you to my MIL who reminded me that the Ativan is there to help until I get stronger. That's the key, there. Until I get enough counseling to teach me how to manage my triggers and fears, I do benefit from the temporary and intermittent medicinal assistance. I don't have to struggle. I can get help while I'm getting help.
Today, I'm doing better. And I believe tomorrow will be good. Just one day at a time. As one friend said on Facebook, "It's a process, like anything in life." It is a process. Even if it feels like I'm taking a step backwards, it is part of the process, and that step back will also help me move forward. I'll keep repeating this to myself for as long as I have to, until I believe it.
I am determined to heal.