I’m too exhausted to describe the whole story.
For now, let it be enough to say that I was doing a group therapy exercise story and sharing something I had written. When I had written it, I felt good about it. I felt I could see progress in it, ways in which I had been developing a healthier relationship with my inner self.
As I read aloud, however, I felt myself shrinking inside. Something felt very wrong. When I was done, I stared at the floor, wishing I could just go away and hide. E asked me to look around at the faces of the women in the room, to see that none of them were judging. I did that, and it was clear that there was only compassion and kindness in the room.
But the truth is, it wasn’t shame that was sucking me in. There was something else stirring. It has something to do with the story I read, I realize that, but I’m not clear on what exactly.
So in essence I have been triggered since Saturday evening and I can’t even explain what did it.
And now I am carrying a heaviness the likes of which has not visited me in a long time. I have a tightness in my chest and a deep, deep exhaustion. My brain feels up with thoughts I don’t choose, the same boring ones that have chased themselves in circles a thousand times before: I’m so bad, I’m hate myself, I don’t deserve to live…
This hasn’t come at the best time; I have a lot of work in May, lots of long, busy days in which I need to interact with clients and school staff. It scares me a bit to have this much trouble functioning when I have work I simply must complete this month.
I tell myself: It will pass, it will pass, all things are temporary. It’s just a feeling. I can tolerate feelings.
NOTE: It really wasn't a funny experience, but this photo of a shocked monkey did make me laugh. And the laughing helps me know I will not drown in these feelings.
CREDIT: Photo by Jamie Haughton on Unsplash