I don’t know where to start. Hmm…I’m not working, so I have lots of time. That’s one thing. I’m depressed a lot, but not always. I find I really need to get out of the house fairly soon in the day. That helps me rev up a bit, not get lost in dissociation or fog or whatever this is. I have things I need to take care of at home, but mostly I just ignore all, and leave for a few hours. Otherwise, I’d probably go back to bed. If I stay home, it’s as if I’m a machine that runs down – I move slower and slower, until I’m staring at the wall for minutes at a time.
Now I want to say – that’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t be doing that. How hard is it to wash the dishes and vacuum before going out. But. Although a part feels like that, I am trying to give myself space, to not let that part have its way with me. A part of myself batters the rest of me mercilessly. Sometimes with words – you’re so stupid, you stupid bitch, why are you like this, you have no friends….Nice. Very nice. Other times, it’s more with images of someone beating me with things, or beating child parts. None of this is flashbacks. That is, no one actually beat me, or called me a bitch as a child. But I’ve developed a part, I’ll call her Witch, that does this.
I figure I’m a bit ahead of where I was, because I’m now on to this situation. I can try and protect younger parts. At least give them space, and see that this attacking part is also a part, it’s not the Truth. Too bad just telling the Witch to cut it out has absolutely no effect whatsoever.
Choir went better this week. I’m so happy about this. I’m sure writing about it here, and discussing it in therapy, paid off. One dear commenter suggested taking something that comforts kid parts, and positive messages. I took a small blue plastic frog that fits in the pocket of my jeans. Whenever I felt anxious, I would pull out the frog (hidden in my hand), and it helped tremendously. Who would have thought it would. As well – positive praising comments (silent). That helped a lot also. Why be my own critic? It doesn’t really matter after all. Why not encourage myself, the way I’d encourage a young child who is scared?
The other benefit to being calmer was you sing better when you’re relaxed. I wasn’t super relaxed, and my high notes were screechy, but it was OK. We sounded pretty good I thought. Plus, people respond to you differently if you seem calm.
I got home and did not have an anxiety attack. I was pretty tired and emotional though. But overall, I’d say this choir experience was good. It gives me hope I might be able to join another more permanent choir (this one is just for advent).
Calming down this critic/witch part of myself is huge. It’s a huge job, because that part is so all-pervasive.