It was a full eleven days after the total destruction of my Sarcophagus, my emotional containment system, before I was able to reach out for any real help. Prior to that day, I sincerely believed that it would kill me to reach out and receive no answer.
I also knew for the first few days that my closest friends were struggling with their own things and so didn’t want to put my stuff on them. I didn’t want them feel even the slightest bit responsible for any bizarre responses that might not be based on actual reality.
So, I reasoned, it was better not to reach out at all. Or at least to only reach out in order to give updates so nobody worried too much about my wellbeing.
The friend who had offered to chat with me about what was happening helped a great deal once I was able to manage chatting. I strongly suspect that most of our conversations were confusing and upsetting for her, but she really did clarify a great many things for me and helped me not get lost in my own mind, newly full of all sorts of terrifying emotions that I wasn’t trying to bury, for the first time in my life.
This friend was an amazing grounding force. She reminded me that other people were separate from me and had different experiences and motivations and intentions than those my mind was so intent on telling me others had. She threw me lifesaver after lifesaver to keep me from falling beneath the waves, being tossed around by misperceptions. I know it wasn’t easy and I hope she knows how grateful I am because my words are failing me now.
Yesterday I finally was able to fully believe her and to trust that my other close friends still have their own stuff going on (some of which was added to by my own clumsy handling of the situation) and will be there to hear me out as soon as they feel up to it. And if they never do feel up to it then it’s out of my hands.
It’s been two days that I’ve felt back to normal again. Normal, but with a very full head. After just over two weeks the emotions are no longer drowning me, but they’re definitely still there. And I do not have much experience with sharing my brainspace with feelings, let me tell you.
My current plan is to talk to my therapist next week about finding someone for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) work. I have a great deal of trauma surrounding my emotions and I’m going to do it right this time. I’m going to work through past traumas instead of medicating them away or building stronger and stronger fortresses to contain the emotional fallout from them.
But I’m human! I’ve finally accepted that I’m a human with feelings and that this is not a bad thing in the long run, to be a human with feelings.
I’m stronger than my emotions — I fucking survived!!! They all came out and flooded me all at once and yet I am still here to tell about it.
Now I do await the casualties with some trepidation. How many friends do I have left? Was this too much for them? I can’t blame them if it was. It was almost too much for me, after all. Will they even like me now that I’m not hiding away portions of myself where even I can’t reach them?
But… I feel strangely at peace with it all. It’s done. It’s happened. What happens next is largely out of my control. I can do my best to explain, make amends, apologize; but that’s all I can do and through it all I’ll just keep being me.
Aria 2.0: now with emotion chip fully accessible, flooding disabled, therapy engaged!