Hey, y’all. Man, life has been hitting me hard. I have this tendency to turn inwards regarding pain and hard things and depression…. I think this flattening, this near dystonia, is more common than it has been. Us non-neurotypicals have been joking (see like 90% of the corner of Twitter that I inhabit) that it feels like the world is catching up to us – seeing the hard things we see, feeling them too.
When you suffer long-term abuse, there’s this thing that can happen, this deferral of meaning when it comes to your own pain, your own suffering. Other people suffer more, you think. What I feel, my pain, my depression – they’re shallow, meaningless against the greater grief of the world, And when you do reach out, so often it feels like the world strikes back. That happened to me. I grew stronger, tried to talk about my grief, get help, be open about my life. I got called a lot of bad things, got a lot of blowback. Just like a lot of own women finding their own power, I got called a bitch, and asshole. Mean. Boundaries scare some people, and those people lash out. So I withdrew.
When you couple that with the struggle to deprogram from literal decades of gaslighting…well, let’s just say I’ve spent months second guessing everything. Including my right to my pain and my trauma. Add a pandemic with hundreds of thousands dying, and you can guess how deep my self-devaluation has gone.
It’s hard for me to be creative. Hell, I’m as depressed as I’ve ever been. It’s hard to get ANYTHING done. Nothing new there – I’m not saying anything that hasn’t been said before. But it’s my experience, and I feel like I should speak to it and claim it.
Bad things have happened over and over again to me. Some of it’s bad luck and some of it is related to choices I mad years ago. Some of it – a lot of it – relates to bad things other people have done to me. It is what it is. I’m marking my time. I wish I knew how to move on, or escape. I’m trying. In the meantime, this is me, saying I’m in pain and I’m trying to move through it.