I’ve been struggling lately as I’m naturally won’t to do at this time of the year emotionally. The prelude to holiday season, my forced relocation due to my parents divorce and separation from my father against my will. Memories of 9/11 and the trauma of the event itself, its constant politicization when I feel it does nothing for my pain except throw it in my face, and those that I know I was there for on that day. Being a remote resource for refugees from Hurricane Katrina and sometimes just a voice for those struggling to stay connected to anything during their crisis of being displaced and lost during that whole shit storm of a disaster both naturally and assisting and taking care of people.
I’m not sleeping well where I can’t fall asleep until 5 or 6 in the morning and then wake up a few hours later to a panic attack covered in sweat and nightmares, and just clinging to my sheets. I’m exhausted and spend half my day walking on egg shells cause I know I’m tired and don’t want to take it out on other people, and yet I know I’m terse anyway, and so this takes more energy. Just getting out of bed is hard to get to the shower, and trying not to cry in front of others and hold it together until I get back to places that are safe where I can be in private and just break down and curl up into a ball and wish I was invisible, didn’t exist, or could be back like when I was younger and just not feel things.
A friend noticed the other day, and was like “I wish much like my dogs, you didn’t go through or I could have prevented what you went through to make you feel like this.” That just made things worse as it made me think about my siblings who are animal lovers and have made comments in various media forms about being against animal cruelty and those that would hurt their furbabies and what they would do or should be done to those that do hurt animals. Yet they associate with other members of my family who hurt both them and me, yet I can’t even get a return phone call that I leave messages for whether it be on holidays or birthdays or any other time of the year I’ve tried to call. And so I’m left to wonder what sort of monster am I that they’d be okay with communicating and interacting with her, and yet they can’t even return a call every so often to me? What sort of monster must I be?
I’ve spoken with my therapist on the matter, and I just feel more hurt and lost, and hopeless, and down. One of those times where it feels like therapy just dregs up the pain more when it might have been just better to bury it or ignore it. But it hurts and is just piling on top of everything else and I’m struggling despite all the promises I’ve made to myself and the work I’ve done. Each day feels harder to harder and more disconnected from the next.