I am writing this blog entry on the day before the summer solstice. I have not been this triggered in a really long time. I have been struggling for a week – pretty much since the full moon last week – and it feels like there will never be an end to this. I hope that by the time anyone reads this, I’ll be able to say that I have pulled out of this and am doing OK. Right now, I feel anything but OK.
I took the title of this blog entry from something a friend, who is a child abuse survivor, hears from her mother a lot. Her mother says she only has so much nurturing to go around. So, if she is already putting energy into someone else, she will tell her daughter, “It’s not your turn.” Even if my friend is in serious crisis, if it’s “not her turn,” then her mother will not help her – period. I feel like it is never “my turn” in any relationship in my life.
I have been struggling a lot over the past week in particular – insomnia, severe headaches, etc. I feel more memories coming but simply cannot handle them right now. In the midst of this, as I shared on Monday, I am feeling sucked dry by too many relationships in my life. It’s always everyone else’s turn, never mine.
This thing is, I really don’t ask or expect much from anyone else. I was taught at a very young age that my needs don’t matter. In fact, I was taught that I don’t even get to have needs. So, for the most part, I muddle along through my life, trying to help others while pretty much blowing off anything resembling needs of my own. However, when I go through periods of deep triggering as I have recently, I simply have nothing left to give. I am not even asking for anyone to **do** anything for me – I just need them to stop sucking my energy for a day or two.
Back to Monday … I actually got a good night’s sleep courtesy of taking a larger dose of Xanax than normal. I was hopeful it would be a better day. Then, an additional trigger happened, and I came completely unglued. The one trigger wouldn’t have been a big deal if I hadn’t been trying to juggle 50 other triggers as well as the negative energy of several other people in my offline life. That was the last straw. I simply lost it.
I tried to call one friend … and then another … and then another … and then another. I could not find one person to answer the damn phone. I tried seven … yes, seven … friends, and could not reach one of them. I even tried calling my therapist – something I have not done in a couple of years – and couldn’t even reach him.
That’s when I gave up. All I needed was one person to ground me … one person to tell me that I would be okay … one person to tell me that I matter … one person to let it be “my turn” for five minutes. Truly, that’s all I needed.
So, I resisted the deep urge to drive my car into a pole. I also fought the deep urge to take a steak knife to my arm, although that one was harder to fight off. I finally settled on binge eating and Xanax. I turned off the cell phone and house phone. I closed out my inbox. I didn’t matter – nobody called, anyhow. I guess nobody needed anything.
I lay in my bed all day and watched a marathon of a TV show. I slept for a couple of hours. I got up and binged again and watched more TV. I pulled myself together long enough to meet the minimum requirements for my job (all done online) and then went back to doing nothing but watching TV.
I feel so disconnected from my body. I picked up my son from camp and took him to basketball practice. I worked out on the elliptical machine for 30 minutes, but it didn’t feel like my body. I ate dinner, but it didn’t feel like my stomach. I feel so disconnected from everything and everyone. I hope this passes because I cannot live like this.
Photo credit: Hekatekris