Feeling somewhat better since I posted. I got a headache, and instead of getting the Tylenol I tried some natural remedies. Such as peppermint and lavender essential oils rubbed on my forehead, yoga stretches and neck rolls, and then a meditation tape to relax. Oh, also magnesium and heat on the back of my neck.
It felt nurturing and caring to do all this. So that was positive. Just popping back some Tylenol does not emotionally take care of things at all. However – after two hours, still a fairly bad headache, and I needed to cook, so I took the pills anyway in the end. I still think this other stuff helped also, and the pills just finished off the pain.
I was thinking about how difficult it is to describe life in parts. First of all, because I don’t really know what it’s like to not have them. What is it like to be whole? Plus, it’s hard to describe daily ordinary experience – it’s hard to figure out what’s out of the ordinary, what’s pathological, what’s fine. I know the end results of fragmentation – the depression, anxiety, distrust, and a lot of experience not making much sense. It’s harder to figure out what it is that I’m actually doing, that I could work at not doing or doing differently.
I’ve noticed with blogs, I tend to follow BPD blogs, a disorder which I do not have. But it seems like for whatever reason, BPD bloggers are great writers and have insight. Often their blogs are tremendously detailed explorations of their feelings and reactions, and I must be able to relate then on some level. But finding a blogger whose main issue is dissociation is very difficult, and I suspect it’s because its is so hard for us to describe something that is by its nature elusive. It’s a bunch of bits that keep disappearing. If something has disappeared, maybe it’s not really a problem, maybe it’s not real, and definitely, should not be mentioned. I think that’s the background for a lot of dissociatives.
That obviously makes writing about your experience a huge challenge. Maybe I need to try harder to find dissociation blogs, maybe I’m not making the effort.
I am also less interested in blanket ‘depression’ or various forms of anxiety, as I do not relate to having a single state that’s there most of the time, especially when the writer pictures this as a medical disease with little to do with their actual life and past.
Maybe I’ll just continue to follow my lovely BPDers, even though we are different. I learn a lot. I kind of admire the large emotions so vividly conveyed, though this is obviously hugely painful for the individual. I need to search so hard for my feelings (which then promptly do overwhelm me), and with BPD, those emotions seem to be right there, if not expressed, certainly felt by the individual.