My therapist was so happy to hear of my small accomplishments over the weekend: spending the day at the movies, going grocery shopping, buying vitamins, and trying carrots for the first time. I also told her I went to the book store on Sunday and spent hours going through the Psychology section and picking out whatever books interested me. I even picked up a book on writing and a GRE prep book. She said it’s all a part of self-care and doing positive things for myself.
Then I told her how I just find places to go because I don’t want to go home. I told her I didn’t really have a reason not to want to be home, but I just didn’t feel safe there. Nothing specific happened, although there have been incidents in the past. My therapist reminded me that even though it may seem physically safe in the moment, it hasn’t been in the past and it hasn’t been an emotionally safe place, either. I guess I’ve just assumed that any place that is not my family home is a safe place.
Some days I leave the house at 5 AM and don’t get home until dark. I try to hang around in stores or in public places. If it’s late, I wander the streets. Somehow, I always end up home. Even if I end up in a place I don’t know, I have my phone and can map out a way back home. I was trying to avoid going into detail because I knew what was coming. She asked if I was present during all these times. I looked around the room trying to avoid answering the question. I didn’t want to get into it. The truth is I know that I dissociate during those times. I end up in places and I don’t know how I got there. But at least I got there in one piece and I’ve been able to get home. I don’t want to hear how dangerous it is. Just let me wander.
My dissociation has been a little out of control lately, and I know that. I took a 40 minute shower yesterday. I was only present for about five minutes of it. This morning I dissociated at work, thankfully not long enough for anyone to notice. One day, I’m not going to be that lucky.
I am hoping the increase is temporary. I have been under a lot of stress lately. My anxiety is a little high (and I am sans good anxiety medication), my sleep has been shitty, I’ve been stressing about the new blog opportunity, about my friend issues, and about work. It’s just a lot. My mind is on overload. I became so overwhelmed at therapy yesterday that I just wanted to give up. I told my therapist I didn’t need therapy anymore. The truth was that I was exhausted. I just wanted to cry, but I didn’t even have the energy to do that. Part of me was giving up. But another part of me started to fight back. The battle continues.