I was reading an article about a woman who continues to have, much to her dismay, a deep desire to just disappear. She used the phrase “emotional paralysis.” I couldn’t have found a better way to express this feeling. It’s not so much wanting to die, which I’ve experienced way too many times in my opinion, but much like this woman, I’ve been wishing that I could just cease to be.
I was talking with my therapist a couple of days ago (yes, I’m not out here dry-dogging it solo) and I told her that I was actually amazed that I was still top-side, sitting on my bed talking to her on the phone.
It’s the age of the coronavirus and I haven’t seen her in person since February.
She’s a really good therapist and I should know; I saw my first one when my age was still in single digits. Nowadays, I only get two 45 minute sessions per month, but it’s better than nothing.
After all that I’ve been through the last few years, I am somehow still interested in actively engaging in therapy. Given everything that I’ve experienced, it’s like some sort of minor miracle.
Because a part of me wants to just wander off the planet, never to be seen again.
I’ve become emotionally paralyzed, after so many traumatic events in a short span of time.
My husband was cheating on me.
I kicked him out, while still being a victim of his gaslighting and manipulation, then eventually got divorced from said cheating husband.
My mom was severely ill and then died. Our once close relationship began to erode the sicker that she became and although a part of me understands her reasoning behind pushing me away, it still stings like salt on an open wound.
I decided to sell my condo and move into a century house because the memories in every shadowy corner of my failed marriage was just too much to bear. I thought that moving would make me happy and although I do love my new home, I am still unhappy, mostly detached from my emotions.
The coronavirus hit home and someone that I loved died from it.
My previously healthy elderly dog died suddenly and without warning.
Just last week, my hip became partially dislocated! Oh joy of joys!
It never fucking ends. It seems like each day is brimming with the possibility of yet another trauma, just waiting to be unleashed.
Since this is my first official post on my new blog, please take a minute to check out the About Me page. (Unless you’re a good blog friend of mine who already knows all about me! Then feel free to skip it!)