Wednesday, March 2, 2016

The Struggle is Real

Every single day, I feel the struggle to determine if what I am feeling is normal or is it related to D.I.D. Every action I take, every emotion, every word is analyzed on the spot so that I don't make an ass of myself or worse. Reveal to those around me what is really going on.  

This shit is exhausting.....not to mention nearly  impossible.

How can I determine if something is normal, when I don't know what normal is? Have I ever been normal? That is the million dollar question.  Most of my adult life I have watched others and thought they were so much more put together than I am.  They are adulting so much different than what I am.  Occasionally, I have felt inferior and like I didn't have it together.  Hell most days I don't have it together.  As I have gotten older, I have come to realize that almost everyone is wearing a mask.  Nobody really feels like they have it all together and under control.  My mask got so good over the years that I have come to fool myself at times.  There was a time when I thought I had my stuff to together.

Then it all came crashing down.  There are days, weeks, months, and even years like this one....when I know that I am far from having my shit together.  I've been slammed with the fact that I have control over nothing.  It has been the hardest thing for me to deal with, that loss of the imagined control.  On the surface, I can come across as being calm and reasonable.  I have recently had several individuals tell me "but you seem so calm and collected".  To which I reply "if you only knew".  I know that underneath, there is a storm brewing, threatening to consume me from the inside out.  I can feel the spinning of the oncoming hurricane as my head gets louder and louder until, inevitable, I can no longer keep it in.

But is that normal?  Since I have become an adult...the last three years have been  the hardest years of my life.  I have been through abuse, years of infertility, years of therapy, years of the wrong therapy with therapist how poo-poo'd me, the loss of a child who still is living and breathing, the loss of jobs, the loss of my home, several mental health diagnoses, and the latest diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder, and so much more.  I keep telling myself that as long as I continue to get up and move,, then there is still hope.  Then all of these things...they haven't beaten me yet and I am still strong; but part of me wonders why I always feel the need to be strong.  Is it defeat if I just say to hell with it all and walk away? Yep. That is what I think. But what the hell do I know anyway?

This is what I do know.

I am exhausted. I am exhausted by the circumstance that led to this thing that I call my life.  I am exhausted by trying to figure out if I am reacting appropriately to those around these circumstances that have led me to where I am today.  I am exhausted by the intense therapy that I am involved in.  I am continuously reminded that this shit is is real exhausting.  I have always been a big supporter that "life is 10% what happens, 90% how you deal with it," but holy shit lately, as in this last year, I don't feel like I'm dealing with it at all.

I recently read a blog post that someone wrote about what she admired within herself.  I have every intention on blogging more and then I don't. I write hundreds of posts in my head. They never make it to this blog.  My goal will to be able to write "What I Admire Within Myself" next.  Something a little more positive.

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