I was diagnosed with untreated PTSD in the beginning of last year. This explains why I am hyper-vigilant, and why sometimes I dissociate. When I think back, I believe I’ve suffered from this for at least the past 27 years. Perhaps, even longer. It has become my way of life; my coping mechanism.
After learning of this diagnosis, I started to think that perhaps dissociating is not such a bad thing. It’s how I can survive in this noisy world, without having to feel everything and everyone around me. Yet, I am filled with anxiety and depression. It’s sort of a life-time low-grade depression, which seems to be just at the surface, but is actually deep within. I can’t seem to shake it off. I also seem to have a lot of psychosomatic disorders and chronic pain issues everywhere. Its intensity and location changes depending on my exercise level, how well I slept the night before and if there’s new stressors happening in my life.
Deep down inside, I know that I already have everything I need in order to heal myself; I just need to look within.
With dissociation, I basically leave my body and look at my body as an outsider. I also cut my feelings off from experiencing all of the pain and fear. This way, I don’t have to feel all of the painful emotions or physical distress that my body is experiencing. However, by me doing that, I also stop feeling…. I no longer know what I like or dislike, or what I actually want in life. And it just dawned upon me that perhaps I’m not living my life to its fullest because I’ve been living my life in a constant state of dissociation, just so I won’t have to feel all of the pain and anguish that comes into my life. Dissociation is a double-edged sword, and in my case, it may be for the worse…
When we were living in California, I used to walk for an hour on the beach every day. The coldest it could get was in the low 60’s, and just putting on two jackets made me feel warm enough. After we moved to Minnesota 6 years ago, I’ve been having seasonal affective depression almost every winter. I took anti-depressants for some years, but this year, I decided to try using a light box, and to exercise more. Exercise more, meaning, using my mini-stepper at home as I’ve stopped going to the gym since the beginning of this year due to Covid. I feel isolated and alone. I don’t know anyone here and my life is being controlled by the weather in winter. Due to past bad experiences, when it snows, I’m afraid to leave the house. I tend to get more depressed when there’s a snow storm, especially one after the other, because I feel trapped, like a bird in a cage. Besides the snow storms, I know that most of the time, I feel trapped because of the prison bars I’ve set for myself. I’ve trapped myself due to the things I tell myself of what I should do, or should not do. No one has put me in this emotional prison, besides myself. And I alone, am the only one who can free myself from this emotional prison.
There have been times, especially when there’s a blizzard, where I have this sudden strong urge to just pack my suitcase, and take the next flight out of Minnesota. If I were to win the jackpot, I would go back to California, rent a beach house, and start my life all over again. But the chances of winning the jackpot are slimmer than getting struck by lightning, so how can I realistically find my way out? Not just in this physical tundra prison, but most importantly, my emotional prison?
ๆๆฏไธ้ปๅฐๅฐ้ณฅ
ไฝ่ฉ๏ผๆๅฎ็ / ไฝๆฒ๏ผๆๅฎ็
ๆๆๅพๆ่ฆบๅพ่ชๅทฑๅไธ้ปๅฐๅฐ้ณฅ
ๆณ่ฆ้ฃ ๅปๆ้บผๆจฃไน้ฃไธ้ซ
ไน่จฑๆไธๅคฉๆๆฃฒไธไบๆ้ ญ ๅปๆ็บ็ตไบบ็็ฎๆจ
ๆ้ฃไธไบ้ๅคฉๆ็ผ็พ่ชๅทฑๅพๆญค็กไพ็ก้
ๆฏๆฌกๅฐไบๅคๆทฑไบบ้็ๆๅ ๆ็ธฝๆฏ็กไธ่
ๆๆท็ๆฏไธๆฏๅชๆๆ็ๆๅคฉๆฒๆ่ฎๅพๆดๅฅฝ
ๆชไพๆๆๆจฃ็ฉถ็ซๆ่ชฐๆ็ฅ้
ๅนธ็ฆๆฏๅฆๅชๆฏไธ็จฎๅณ่ชช ๆๆฐธ้ ้ฝๆพไธๅฐ
ๆๆฏไธ้ปๅฐๅฐๅฐๅฐ้ณฅ
ๆณ่ฆ้ฃๅ้ฃ ๅป้ฃไน้ฃไธ้ซ
ๆๅฐๅฐ่ฆ่ฆๅฐๅฐ่ฆ่ฆไธๅๆบซๆ็ๆทๆฑ
้ๆจฃ็่ฆๆฑ็ฎไธ็ฎๅคช้ซ
ๆๆ็ฅ้ๆ็ๅๅญ็ไบบๅ ไฝ ๅๅฅฝไธๅฅฝ
ไธ็ๆฏๅฆๆญค็ๅฐ ๆๅๆณจๅฎ็ก่ๅฏ้
็ถๆๅ็กไบบๆ
ๅทๆ ็ถไฝ ๆฑบๅฎ็บไฝ ไบ็็ๆณ็็
็ๆดป็ๅฃๅ่็ๅฝ็ๅฐๅดๅชไธๅ้่ฆ