I wonder if there’s a statistically significant increase in the probability of my making a morbid psychological deep dive video on the days where I have therapy.
All those emotions have to go somewhere, I guess.
This time they went here :
In this case, I let some of my feelings about being dead inside out and hopefully that will make room for the good stuff to get in.
One can only hope.
Like I said in the vid, I am trying to shock myself back into the world of the living. But I think the problem is that I am basically trying to start a fire on wet kindling.
My inner world is very numb and highly resistant to being ignited. I have had this toxic pattern of never acting on my emotions or impulses that my mind stupidly quashes even the slightest show of motivation or drive in order to maintain “control”.
Oh yeah, I am so in “control”. That’s why my life is going exactly how I want it to.
And it all happens so fast and at so deep a level that I can’t just catch it and stop it, CBT style. I am going to have to somehow condition myself to stop viewing my own motivation as a god damned enemy or danger and to take a nice deep breath and let the life force fill me up instead.
Breathe in the light and breathe out the dark, just like that yoga lady on TV said.
Wish I could remember her name, but I was like three at the time.
I do feel like I need some kind of deep purification. I would love to have the opportunity to have a good long soak in a hot tub.
One with a really good filter so it doesn’t get all clogged up with my toxins.
Heck, just a regular bath would do, but that’s not an option for someone with my disabilities. I could get into the tub easily enough but I can’t imagine how I would get back out again with how weak my legs are.
I keep imagining myself breaching like a whale and escaping the tub like I am Free Willy jumping out of his enclosure in that movie.
I think it was called “Last Tango In Paris”.
Otherwise, I think it would take some sort of winch to hoist me out of the water like I am a nice big catch of salmon being hauled on board a fisherman’s boat.
I would also love to spend some time in a sauna. Note, that’s sauna, NOT a steam room. My one time in a steam room damn near killed me.
No, a nice dry sauna. It recreates the same effect I get from lying on a towel on the sand on a beach. That lovely radiant heat just bakes the toxins out of me and clears out my pores and makes me feel all healthy and free.
Hey, look at me, expressing desire for things. Yay that.
But of course, it’s never been that I lacked desires, it’s that I have been too afraid to express those desires consciously.
That’s why I could/can only describe them as dreams – things I wish I had or could do. Those don’t come with a pressing need to make them come true.
They’re just nice thoughts, with maybe a bit of wistful sighing. But they don’t involve any kind of longing or feeling of incompleteness or even just really strong desire.
So maybe what I need is to give myself permission to dream harder. And bigger. Let myself really want some things.
And put up with how much that can hurt if the desire goes unfulfilled.
Worse things can happen. Trust me.
More after the break.
The work of life
The work of life seems slightly more onerous lately.
You know the stuff I am talking about. All the little things involved in being a live human being in modern society that are not, in and of themselves, enjoyable.
There’s no getting around them. Like I have said before, even Elon Musk has to brush his teeth and use the toilet and choose what to eat and so on.
That’s why it is so deadly to fall into the trap of treating all effort like it’s the enemy. If that goes too far, you are basically at war with being alive.
Like the ultimate luxury lifestyle is that of the paraplegic.
Anyhow, the work seems more like work lately, and I don’t think it’s because I’m sick or anything. I think it’s because I am feeding my id and it’s making me feel more cranky and lazy and self-indulgent.
Kind of like a teenager. Which tracks, I suppose.
Something that came up during therapy today is how my return to life will perforce require struggling with my less than noble emotions.
It’s easy to be high minded and “above it all” when you’re dead inside. Then you’re perfectly free to look down upon the masses from your Olympian perch and tut-tut them for all their crude, base behaviour.
But when you want to be alive instead, you have to actually struggle with things like anger, greed, selfishness, arrogance, and the rest of the Sins.
The big story is that coming back to life will mean sacrificing detachment and that’s not going to be easy for me because detaching is what I did to escape while I was being raped and it’s been my go to response for everything ever since.
That vast gulf between me and others is the moat of the castle I retreated into when something far worse than I could handle was happening, and if I want to live – and I do – I am going to have to lower the drawbridge and let people in… or walk out.
And that means letting people get close enough to touch me.
And that means calming down that psychotic little animal inside me so it won’t attack people when they get too close.
And this is all going to be one hell of a project.
But it’s not like I have anything better to do.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.