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Old trauma reopened and examined
4 years ago
General
Reprocessing some old trauma I rediscovered. You know. One of the big ones that constantly lingers even though I hardly ever consciously realize it. This time, it's the reluctance to do things. Oh, I guess we're back on the subject of the dark track, somewhat.
I found this trauma and opened it up yesterday. I haven't been able to take out the garbage. I remembered that I was able to do a lot more when I had time to myself... and realized that that's how I got a lot done when I was younger, was when I was alone. You know why?
Because when I wasn't alone, someone might watch me gloatingly, because chores were turned into power trips by mom and dad. So I would get a lot done when the house was deserted. Now... I am never alone at home. Alone is when my brain can vent. When I feel truly like I can be myself. I feel watched, otherwise. Like there's something bearing down on my back. Even now, I feel it. Even now, I feel like at any moment eyes will be turned on me in anger and judgment. Ouch, ouch.
Heh. I want attention dearly but I can't bear having people see me literally just do stuff. Ouch.
So here I am, realizing I feel that pressure at all times.
Still trying to be selfish enough to just live openly. Not feel like I have to hide every last thing I do. Every last good thing I feel. Live like an imp, impishly.
I am a selfish creature and it's nothing to be ashamed of. In fact I ought to revel in it. My day to day interactions, I get to choose. I can let go of people and things, I am not bound to them; and I can find new things and meet new people more in line with my needs as a person.
I think I am letting a lot of people I used to know fade into the background. Friends and family alike. It is lonely and yet, I don't know that I was ever fully myself around the people I knew earlier in my life. Maybe I was. I'm not sure, to be honest.
I'm doing my best. There's a hard shell around me of fear and inability. I am trying to find a way to crack it open, bit by bit. Crumble the surface.
I will be talking to my doctor about phalloplasty tomorrow. I need it. There is no way around it and it is part of my journey. Good for me; I'm making a little progress.
Now... selfishness. Let me be selfish. Let me make mistakes and if others are uncomfortable from my doing things and literally just existing, they get to feel that all on their own. Their damage is not mine to manage.
I found this trauma and opened it up yesterday. I haven't been able to take out the garbage. I remembered that I was able to do a lot more when I had time to myself... and realized that that's how I got a lot done when I was younger, was when I was alone. You know why?
Because when I wasn't alone, someone might watch me gloatingly, because chores were turned into power trips by mom and dad. So I would get a lot done when the house was deserted. Now... I am never alone at home. Alone is when my brain can vent. When I feel truly like I can be myself. I feel watched, otherwise. Like there's something bearing down on my back. Even now, I feel it. Even now, I feel like at any moment eyes will be turned on me in anger and judgment. Ouch, ouch.
Heh. I want attention dearly but I can't bear having people see me literally just do stuff. Ouch.
So here I am, realizing I feel that pressure at all times.
Still trying to be selfish enough to just live openly. Not feel like I have to hide every last thing I do. Every last good thing I feel. Live like an imp, impishly.
I am a selfish creature and it's nothing to be ashamed of. In fact I ought to revel in it. My day to day interactions, I get to choose. I can let go of people and things, I am not bound to them; and I can find new things and meet new people more in line with my needs as a person.
I think I am letting a lot of people I used to know fade into the background. Friends and family alike. It is lonely and yet, I don't know that I was ever fully myself around the people I knew earlier in my life. Maybe I was. I'm not sure, to be honest.
I'm doing my best. There's a hard shell around me of fear and inability. I am trying to find a way to crack it open, bit by bit. Crumble the surface.
I will be talking to my doctor about phalloplasty tomorrow. I need it. There is no way around it and it is part of my journey. Good for me; I'm making a little progress.
Now... selfishness. Let me be selfish. Let me make mistakes and if others are uncomfortable from my doing things and literally just existing, they get to feel that all on their own. Their damage is not mine to manage.
