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Update: suicidal ideation, hospital (again), writing and healing

I get extremely vivid dreams which allow me to experience things I haven’t experienced in my life. I see it as part of my gift of being an empath or highly sensitive person. Today, during my nap, I dreamt of dissociating so badly I lost my hearing. This is a documented thing, as this paper writes about, however I believe it is fairly rare. I sometimes lose my voice when dissociated but never my hearing. There were people around me; they were packing up and selling a house or shop I owned. No one understood what was going on with me. I kept trying to stop them from touching certain fragile belongings, such as my glasses. I didn’t know how loud I was speaking and shouting. I was extremely distressed, and wished someone would get me some help. Then I saw my friend who has a severe dissociative disorder where he also loses his hearing. I was so relieved as he was the only one who got it. He sat me on his lap and I calmed down. I knew the deafness was only transitory and this brought me some reassurance.

I’m not sure how to interpret this dream. Is there something the universe is trying to tell me but I refuse to listen to it? A theme of this dream was people doing things to me, not with me. I immediately think of my psychologist. It is Monday, the day I would usually see her. She told me once that houses in dreams represent the body. It is as though this trauma is not just emotional but also physical. My mind and body feels like it’s going through withdrawal. I am the house, and people are packing me up to sell to somebody else. That’s what it feels like my psychologist has been doing. Packing me up to get rid of me. Continue reading “Update: suicidal ideation, hospital (again), writing and healing” →

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Regret

I dream that I am in a psych ward with the only friends I had at high school. I dream constantly about high school. It was over a decade ago now. I dream that I still have more exams left. My final years were extremely stressful. I put so much pressure on myself to achieve, and it is frightening to feel like those years are not over. On the other hand, I have other dreams about high school where it is not over and I’m glad about that. I’m glad because I still have a chance to do things differently. You might wonder why I would want things to be different when I was school dux. I may seem privileged to you. But beneath my overachievement I was deeply unhappy and lonely. Becoming dux and getting a scholarship to uni didn’t change that. I studied a course I hated and I can’t get a job with. What I wanted more than anything was friendship and love. Being dux and not having any hecs to pay back, while great, has not made life more fulfilling. I have spent the last decade unemployed, single, in and out of psych hospitals and wanting to be dead. I wish I could wind back the clock. I wish I hadn’t of walked away from the school where people (like Sara) did love me because of those who did not. It is something that haunts me to this day.

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A rotten day (literally)

nothing

This meme would be a good summary of my day, though it doesn’t quite capture how distressing doing nothing can be. It was a 39 degree day and my dad and I were going to go to the beach, but that never eventuated. Instead this is what my day looked like:

I wake up at 4pm and turn on my laptop, as I usually do when I wake up. A news article pops up: “Doctor shares what happens to our bodies moments before we die”. The doctor apparently wants to reduce people’s fear around death, but the article does a pretty crap job of that. There is absolutely nothing transcendental or comforting about the article. Lets just say if you don’t already fear death you probably will when you get to the end of this article. So that is how I begin my day… staring into the fate of myself and those I love: complete oblivion. Continue reading “A rotten day (literally)” →

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Grief: a rollercoaster

““I thought this was more,” I whispered low, 
Hoping he’d stay, hoping he’d show. 
But his response, like a dagger, cut deep, 
“No one stays, my dear, not in this world .”

With those words, reality crashed in, 
My heart shattered, my hopes pinned. 
For what we shared was just a game, 
A situationship, without a name.”

Poestoryporium, ‘Whispers of Love’

I don’t know if it’s fully sunk in that my psychologist, my confident, has left me. Whenever something happens in my life- good or bad- I automatically turn to her. I go to write her an email, or I store it in a little bottle in my mind for our next session, only to remember that she is gone. It really does feel like a nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from. I never thought she would leave me and I’d have to go through this hell all over again. I thought she was different. I trusted her. Now she has left me with what I can only liken to phantom limb syndrome. Continue reading “Grief: a rollercoaster” →

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