Archive for August, 2012

Pavlov’s dog

Posted in Uncategorized on August 30, 2012 by Linata

“I think I should dig out my gun and make holes in your bodies” – that’s what my father just said to me and my mother because we were absent this evening (visiting my brother’s family).
I know it was just a verbal threat…but nevertheless..my heart is racing. I’m mortified.
This is how I grew up.
Which makes me doubt my chances of being normal. Ever.
Which makes me realise why I feel the way I feel…
Those who were raised in fear will understand.
I pray for myself and I pray for everyone else like me that one day this fear will dissolve.
If there’s hope in this world this day must come.
One day.

history 1

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 27, 2012 by Linata

this entry i’m going to dedicate to my ex. i’ve never shared this story with anyone, not even with my therapist.
i tried to kill myself 3 times in 2 years. i used to be very embarassed about it. i still am. some people are very judgemental towards suicide. my mother being one of them. so due to the amount of guilt i felt i chose to ignore my suicidal attempts together with everything that happened prior to each attempt. today i’ll be focusing on one of them. the second pathetic attempt of trying to have control over my life.
it was new year of 2011. i started seeing this girl a few months before that. it was a rough start. we basically started sleeping with each other because we just separated from our partners. both of our exes cheated on us. the sum of 2 betrayals created a lot of power issues. apart from that, we had a lot of other psychological issues. my PTSD just kicked in. i had no idea what was going on with me. and P…well…she apparently loved me too much. we’ve spent new years with some friends, got hideously drunk (as always) and on the way back started having an argument. i was feeling sick and she was feeling insecure (as it turned out later). she tried to talk to me…i tried to get into bed. she was getting more and more agitated. so she punched me in the stomach. i tried really hard to not vomit. i laid on the floor holding my stomach and then literally started crawling into bed. she finally left me alone. we didn’t say a word. in the morning she said she was sorry. i said it was ok. i don’t know why i said that. possibly because i couldn’t deal with drama. i was too hangover and i was about to meet her mother. i chose to ignore what happened. as she explained weeks later that night she realised how much she loved me and it made her very angry because she was convinced that i didn’t love her back. in her world it was always a valid reason. every time she expressed her anger it was somehow my fault.
a week after that i went home to visit my parents. it was 6 months after i split up with my long term partner of 5 years. it was time to tell my mother. my mother has serious issues with me being gay. first time i came out to her in an e-mail. she cried, and she begged me to say it wasn’t true. not much else she could do. i was in another country. i didn’t go back for a year. she asked me to come visit. i missed my niece and nephew, so i went. she pretended nothing ever happened and we never spoke about it since. this time since my long-term relationship ended i thought it was necessary to tell her. and i did. she cried. then she blamed. i was ‘her failure’. my brother was a hero. i was a loser. then she called me a slut. i got up and left the room. i locked myself in my room. she was banging on the door for quite a while demanding that i open the door. i did. she slapped me on the face. i tried to push her away. she pushed on the bed. and started choking me….with her bare hands. strangely, i just gave in. i relaxed and stopped fighting. i think i almost liked the idea of dying that way. i was suddenly completely calm. possibly because of that she came back to her senses… got up, and stormed out of my room. the next day she brought me aspirin in the morning (we both were drinking the night before). we never spoke about that event.
i went back. PTSD kicked in with full force. the experience of being attacked by my own mother definitely pushed me off the rails. Every night I was waking up from the sound of my own screaming. Every day I had such bad panic attacks I couldn’t get up from my bed. I was taking valium every morning….day… Any stimulation was giving me migraine attacks. I was very scared of being alive.
Then I moved in together with P. I couldn’t deal with ANY change so it was a bad idea in itself, nevertheless, I ended up living with her and her friends. This is when my life turned to HELL.
P was very insecure. I wasn’t allowed to express my opinion on topics she didn’t have any knowledge of. In fact, I wasn’t allowed to talk to other people at all. Everyone was a threat. According to her all my friends were somewhat evil. She talked a lot. And she demanded my attention 24/7. Her emotional outburst started becoming more and more violent…every week we had something broken. and then she broke her hand (by hitting against the wall). I took her to the hospital. She was off work for 6 weeks. That was the worst part for me. She was around ALL the time and I had to respond to her every action. She couldn’t deal with me ignoring her, so she made sure I didn’t. I had to engage every minute I was awake. If I wasn’t awake she would enter my room back and forth slamming the door. I’d carry on pretending I was asleep. And then I started shouting….I started shouting like mad. After every social interaction we had with other people she’d make a scene. And I’d shout. Only she was clever. She’d make a scene when nobody could see. I shouted whenever I was angry. Her friends started judging me. Every time P would break their things they’d assume it was me. I asked her to explain her friends that it wasn’t me. I doubt she ever did. I had no energy to work on my public image. The only thing I wanted in life is to hide. I switched from valium to gin. I started going to bars just so I could avoid going ‘home’. Gin and vodka became my best friends. I had no real friends around me. I was not used to being weak, so I chose my own company. Plus gin, of course. At some point friends did come to visit me but I got so hideously drunk, some people found me on the street. It was February. I was so cold I couldn’t move. I don’t remember that, actually. I think I might have had a psychotic episode because I remember not remembering who I was. Or may be I was just THAT drunk. I don’t know… I remember running away….and then there’s just emptiness in my memory from that night. At the same time my health started deteriorating. I barely ate, and drunk every day, so my body started giving up on me, which of course bothered P very little. She did realise by that point that I was losing the plot, but in stead of doing something about it, she became even more insecure. Possibly, she was scared that I was still in love with my ex. I wasn’t. I was just going mad. Every night I had nightmares. Every day I had to treat my anxiety with booze. P was constantly violating my physical and emotional space. I had nowhere to go. I couldn’t go stay with my mother… And none of my friends knew I was at the point of breaking down. So I broke down. One night after yet another horrendous row with P, I drunk half a bottle of vodka. Moved table to block the door, put music on really loudly, took all the valium I could find, and was preparing myself for a great departure. Honestly, I was having a great time. I think I was celebrating my own funeral. Then P managed to break into my room. I’m not sure what happened next….I think we tried to wrestle as I refused to go to the hospital. But pills were kicking in and then I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember next 3 days. Apparently, I was taken to the hospital. Apparently, P called the ambulance. I obviously survived. But my only reaction to that event was disappointment. I felt defeated. I felt completely powerless. And of course my misery didn’t end there. It was still very much the beginning of the end. The end that has eventually lead to a new beginning.

Tags

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 25, 2012 by Linata

Once I started studying psychotherapy I stopped believing in right and wrong.
Once I started understanding karma I stopped believing in psychotherapy.

hard_er

Posted in Uncategorized on August 19, 2012 by Linata

i don’t make it easy for myself

never have

never will

i was born to an environment

in which survival was my only option

and i’ve been surviving since

i don’t have any answers

so many other people do

so many claim to know the way

i just get lost all the time

but i do know how to find myself

i gaze at stars with child-like excitement

the world is so vast…

its size makes my sufferings

less

important

i hardly every cry

because i’m trying so hard to not be a crier

boys and girls do cry

only for some crying happens to be harder

than not-crying

tears have different value

mine must be expensive

for i’m better at hiding them away

i lock them in a safe….but r they safe?

one thing i always do –

i find sunshine in places where everything seems to be one massive shadow

beam of light means a lot to those

who spend most year in darkness

when i die i want to go back to the sea –

i want to go back to where life started

i know i must be given another chance

another chance for another beginning

start determines the end

same rule must apply the other way around –

i’d like to be right about it…

some go with the flow –

a luxury i can’t afford

i work hard

i push myself even harder

i know that the only thing i CAN do

is try.

gold

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on August 18, 2012 by Linata

Image

sources of strength

Posted in Uncategorized on August 18, 2012 by Linata

“The world breaks everyone and afterwards many are strong at the broken places”. -Ernest Hemingway

my experience of PTSD – 7

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 17, 2012 by Linata

crisis breaks us. u find yourself laying on the ground covered in mud with no helping hand in sight. in stead people do not notice your presence on the ground..and step on you…often without saying “i’m sorry”. but this is not what this entry is going to be about. when you find yourself on the floor, covered in mud, with broken ribs (dreams), wounded and bleeding…death might appear like a very favorable option. but if you reject this option you start grabbing for life with insane greediness…you are learning to survive with outstanding eagerness…at this point you would try anything…and u commit to surviving. crisis can leave u deeply wounded. you might need to learn how to walk again…or may be even how to use a wheel chair…and these limitations can make you VERY VERY VERY angry…but if you choose life you also choose to accept these limitations…you learn how to deal with them…how to live with them….it takes a lot of emotional, mental, spiritual progression to learn how to live your life within certain constraints….most of us never experience this until very old age….illness both mental and physical can make you feel incredibly miserable and hopeless. but…after denial, anger, and resentment…comes acceptance. this is when miracles happen. when you accept your situation/condition you learn to adapt to it. you are forced to practice problem-solving skills. and most importantly, you are given an opportunity to apply your will. crisis can become a very empowering experience. when you survive through something horrendous you can either break down………….or you can become extremely powerful. it is not a kind of power you receive from the external world. the world will most likely do the opposite….but it’s a sort of power that comes from within. when you overcome a great personal challenge you become someone else. you become a new ‘you’. this new ‘you’ is a hero of your own world. nobody needs to tell you that…there’s no need for anyone’s recognition….because of the extent of such battle you become a much stronger person. the experience of overcoming a great challenge transforms you on all possible levels. every cell of your body will remember how hard this process has been. and once you realise the limitations of this life you stop taking things for granted. blessed are those who can afford taking things for granted. but even more blessed are those who have stopped taking things for granted because something precious was taken away from them. yes, i’m different from majority of people of my age. a lot of them could never understand me. a lot of them never truly struggled. but we all face crisis at one point or another. and the more you overcome the more precious life becomes. we value things we invest in. when you learn to deal with crisis you also learn to invest in your life. not in terms of money….career….recognition…but in terms of things that really matter in life…sort of things you might regret not doing when you face death….and after that…..you just can’t quite take these things for granted. each day becomes an opportunity for a small personal victory. every tiny step away from crisis can become a source of personal pride.

strangely, the worst phase of your life can also be the best one. i just haven’t got the time/energy anymore to waste my life on people/surroundings that bring me down. i’ve changed.

crisis is where the change starts.