Yesterday’s realisation I was a love avoidant addict has hit me hard and last night was tough. I dissociated pretty badly after writing my blog post. A few things preceded this. S and I are going to hang out tonight, New Year’s Eve. I am going to a CoDA meeting and then we are going to catch up. She texted me and asked me what I wanted to do. I said I didn’t know and referred to her to decide, jokingly saying my response was so codependent. She asked why that was so and I said it’s common for codependents to not know what they want and that I was just hyper aware of my thoughts and actions at the moment. So she gently encouraged me to just think about what I would like to do and gave a couple of suggestions. I said that sitting on a picnic rug would be nice and watching fireworks is always good, and then I admitted I was so embarrassed to be writing this- like I was going to get into trouble. Anyway we made plans and I thought it was weird that I wrote “I was going to get into trouble” just for saying what I wanted. I started to feel dissociative lying in bed and then intense feelings began to arise. So I wrote:
“Why can’t I say what I want?
Because I feel like I am going to get in trouble. To say what you want is sooo bad cos someone always died. You choose, they die. It’s better to be confused and how do you know if you make the right or wrong decision cos they could grow up good or bad ones so you just never know”.
Hey this is Rachel, the writer. Or wannabe writer. Two parts just came out. Ah one was little and was being taken away in a space ship and then went ssh and said someone was coming. She curled up in a ball and tried to hide. But then they came, so Miss Death took over. She lives in a cavernous vault and it is good. She kind of has a body, but not really, meaning she could never move or walk, except maybe in a space suit, but she wouldn’t want to try. She had never really spoken to anyone before and we Pretended S was there to talk too. Miss death was prob as old as the body, but had never really thought about it. It felt so good being Miss Death. Everything was silent and quiet and calm. She felt good and liked living where she was living. It was nice for her to have company. She has never had it before. I decided to come out to write about them both. Miss death knows about me, which felt good. Everyone inside knows about me… well most people. They think I am like an investigative journalist. I’m not really, I actually like writing poetry studs. But it feels nice that people inside know my name.”
Today I feel really tired, I went to boxing and came home and just hopped in the bath. I could sleep all day but I will just potter around and try and get a few things done. I am on holidays so it is okay to take it really easy. It just hurts being in my head for too long.