I thought I was going along OK there for a bit. And, if I can step back a bit from the black/ white, all/nothing, perfect/ shit mentality, then I guess I still am going OK. Just a bit shaky. Semester 2 has kicked off, it already feels like a a lot of work- 4 days a week placement plus 2 subjects- and it’s already tempting to give in to the Neg Voice and just…well, just die. Which I can’t do. So, gotta battle on. It still shocks me though, just how quickly my mind turns to suicide (and/ or eating disorder stuff) whenever life gets even the slightest bit difficult/ busy/ messy etc. Like, BANG. No other coping mechanisms, no other neural pathways lit up, no self-care or self-compassion, just, fucking die you useless fat bitch. Like there’s a big chunk of my brain that’s blacked out and shut down, too many years of abuse, such a huge gap between being the child who was terrified of being killed every day and now, ta da! I’m an adult in control of my own life but it’s like driving a car without ever having had a single driving lesson. Which is to say, fucking terrifying and it takes all my energy just to stay on the right side of the road. And I wish she had just killed me all those times she threatened to and saved me the agony of having to live with it and no I don’t but yes I do and on and on and ON. And they tell me, it is possible to live through this, to take the middle path, stay alive for a long and productive life, maybe even enjoy it. Really? Really??? I’m glad you believe that for me but all I have is a tiny spark lodged somewhere deep in my gut and sometimes thats just not enough to see a future with.
ANYWAY, part of my need to ramble is that placement is finally happening. I was all, ‘Oh, I’ve worked for years, and I’ve done placements before, I’m a pro at this, not nervous at all, nope, not me’. Yeah well my bullshit lasted approximately 30 seconds, and it was/ is full on, and I only realised I was scared when I got to the lunch break and she whispered, you have a great opportunity here, you can restrict food the whole time, you SHOULD, no, (yelling now) YOU HAVE TO, you’re gonna suck at this, what skills do you have? none, they all hate you already, you’re in the way you idiot and oh fucksticks, how did THAT happen so bloody quickly?? My placement learning goals do not include ‘starve the whole time so that I have no energy to do anything’. That’s NOT what I want. Yes it is. Argh. Messy head is messy.
So I go to counselling and watch myself, from outside myself. I see this awkward lump of a girl, behaving almost like a parody of the clients we watch on the dated videos at uni- no eye contact, one word answers, incessantly fidgeting with her hands. Swinging between enthusiasm and openness to suicidal in the space of an hour, shutting down whenever anything gets too hard. And realise, that girl is me. And the thought that this is who I am, how I am, weighs me down more than food ever could, fills me with disgust and self loathing, get me out of here, this room, this life, get me out NOW. And I am back in that bed, with her on top of me, suffocating me, and at the time I struggled and begged for breath but now I wish I’d given up.
But I didn’t, and so I am here now. Here, alive, an adult not a child. And maybe life is shit, or sometimes OK, or just a huge fucking awful wonderful mess. And I write it all out because I can’t do anything else with it and otherwise my head would explode, and it doesn’t have to make sense, just to be, and maybe I’ll learn something useful from it and maybe I won’t and on and on it goes…
