Feeling very out of sorts. Disgusting, negative, distorted. I am close to having micro panic attacks, then I disconnect, get distracted and forget about it. Lots of chatter in my head. I’m angry, it’s parts, I’m ashamed, it’s parts, I’m stressed, that’s me; I’m depressed and full of self loathing- it’s parts.
My body is tingling, my breath is shallow. I hate me – it’s memory. I can’t put things into perspective; of course I can, I keep moving don’t I? I will wake tomorrow, go to gym, go to work, do committee meetings and marking and inside my head will be the dissociated chatter that shames me, points fingers at me, keeps me on edge and paranoid.
I, I, I, I wish I could say words of meaning and shout what’s inside my head, I wish I could shake out the internal pain. Why can’t I? Perhaps if I was alone. I desire to be alone so no one can see me or bear witness to this disgusting self that carries me. Yet I can’t be alone. I would seek distraction very quickly.
It’s shame. What a toxic beast that rides me. It’s shame shackled around my neck, whipping me as I go faster, bringing welts to my back. Last night I dreamt of my father as a pedophile.
Who knows what my story is, the Lord won’t give it to me. He leaves me in blankness, scrounging the internet for an identity. I’m angry at Him. He hates me anyway, I’ve forgotten why though.
It’s not nice when the angry parts abuse me. They tell me I am so bad and disgusting and dirty and a worm. It is hard to listen to that you know and find compassion. I do my best to ignore, but they find me, press me, repel me.
I’ve got sabotage on my brain. She distances me. She sets out to destroy. I had parts who wanted to hurt my ex husband so bad- punish him the way they were punished. It is so hard to sit with that knowing; that inside me lives abuser parts who want to hurt others so bad like they were hurt. I hate that about myself. I work diligently to keep them down. They keep coming up and calling out. I want them gone. They want to destroy.
I am confused by the concept of victim. I listened to a YouTube video of a survivor and she said when she was in the states I describe, she was being a victim. It’s a loaded word and I feel bad for being one. I am a victim to my victim hood. I can’t locate compassion or sympathy in this space. I wish I hadn’t of listened to her. The things I am not ready to here or are my feelings valid?
God. Hoping He rescues me someday, just don’t know from what. Have no idea what it means to believe in God these days or be a Christian. I feel so drawn away from mainstream Christianity (not that I was particularly pulled towards it in the first place), and more pulled towards radical teachings of inclusivity and queer theology that embraces difference, yet torn because I still shame myself for being wrong and on the dark side. Still dying to be saved without having accepted I am already. I cannot fathom God has love for me. The script is old I know it, but I cannot hear the new one.
Halloween month. There is so much spiritual shit going on and I hate it. I would prefer not to leave the house. I am under attack, but of course it is my mind making it all up. Best not to talk about it, just hope it passes soon. Must talk about it- what? That demons walk the air, fill my head with toxic thinking? Nah girl, you just getting your period and are having a breakdown. I want them to stop hurting me. I am too weak too call out. My mind goes blank if I think about it too much. I am afraid and sad.
Tomorrow is a new day. The week starts. I go again. It’s good to keep record of the craziness.