I cannot figure out how to unplug the Emotional Pin-Ball Game.
And I am finished playing for now!

There are nights when I am absolutely afraid to move. Anxiety and fear ~ my current nemesis. Like, one night, when I was on the phone with the therapist and he was telling me to get up and do something, I could not do it. And it was not because I was trying (in that very moment) to be argumentative and defiant, it was literally because my body was frozen and I could not move. And he seemed frustrated, which I understand, as he was trying to help me, and it’s not like he could grab my arm and physically move me (not that he would do that in his office either, but I suspect it’s a little bit easier for him to deal with me in that situation when we are in the same room). It’s so difficult for me to communicate at that point.

Right now I am in this space where I really wonder how I can continue to live up to the person everyone thinks that I am. Who is this person that everyone has created in their minds with my name attached to it? This person that people are praising and say that I am doing great things…Why can I not see the Nita that they see?? I look in the mirror and see constant failure and disappointment.

And I have to say that I am not really in the position right now to be all warrior-like and face all of it head-on. It is really one of those days when I want to curl up in a fetal position with a heating pad and pull the covers over my head. Even though the therapist would say that isn’t a good idea for me to hide myself away from all human contact…I still want too. I don’t have any desires to hurt myself; I’m just tired and I don’t want to be all happy and sunshiny for other people right now.

My body hurts today. On top of my normal Crohn’s issues that I battle daily…my weak body has fallen to pneumonia. So for 6 days now I have been rotating from coughing to not being able to breathe…oh and let’s throw in a Crohn’s fare up at the same time. Way more fun than one person should be allowed to have.  

WAH! I’m sure it’s all “emotional” overload, right? I feel like a pin-ball machine…hit the emotional ball and see where it bounces around and what part of my body it hits! *Headache/dizziness: 100 points. Abdominal pain: 50 points. Nausea/vomiting: 150 points. Insomnia: 200 points.  Cramps/bleeding: 300 points. Coughing fit: 500 points. Uncontrollable shaking or inability to move at all: 1000 bonus points.

The storm clouds have been hovering all day and now the darkness has closed in. The dark portentous clouds that have been looming ominously overhead have finally rolled in with the force of a category 4 hurricane. My body no longer feels like it belongs to me. Even little things are such an effort. I feel ravaged by the torrential rain and devastating winds of the hurricane.

The burly winds have destroyed lawn furniture and sent backyard grills reeling from decks and porches – they have scattered tumbleweeds across the plains…the ability to keep your eyes open in the midst of the flying dirt and dust has diminished. I am blowing in the wind…tossed like the tumbleweeds. I am constantly fighting the winds of depression, fear, sadness, hopelessness and tonight my overwhelming feelings are a force to be reckoned with!

Sleep fails to bring relief…the darkness invades my sleep, my dreams….I fight sleep – fear it, even. And when I do sleep, I talk and moan, thrash around and whimper frequently. I wake up multiple times a night from a nightmare only to find a broken compass and an inability to navigate myself from the past back to the present.

So much of it is irrational – and the small, logical voice inside of me tells me that – but the logical part of me cannot overpower, or balance, the other irrational, illogical voices of the terrified children trapped inside my mind and my body. I know I'm not in control. All the drive and spirit and determination that made me ME has been drained from me and most of the time I just feel like a rag doll….just do with me what you will…I'll just wait here.

And I have these horrible thoughts…what if I took a few extra sleeping pills, anxiety med…maybe chase them down with the ***** in the freezer…..

It's not about suicide….although I'll admit I have fleeting thoughts that death would be easier on everyone around me who suffer with me, despite my trying to keep it all inside of me. But it isn't about suicide – it's about making it stop! And I know that sounds sick…

I have always been strong, a fighter! Always! And certainly I've been through worse than this…… But I hate this! I hate the panicky feeling when I wake up from a nightmare and I'm in a state of half-consciousness. I hate the overwhelming feelings of rage that make me lash out at those undeserving and sometimes unsuspecting souls. I hate the external scars I've inflicted upon myself. I hate that I have these overwhelming urges to hurt myself and I sometimes act on those urges and then suffer the feelings of guilt and shame that come afterward. I hate that I've given them my joy and that means they win! I hate feeling and acting like a child! I hate the memories, and the crying and all of the feelings, feelings, feelings!!!!!!! I hate it! All of it!

I feel like I'm going crazy. I'm in such a state of darkness tonight and I need something to renew my courage, to get back my determination and drive. Now I feel like my body and mind have been taken over by a poltergeist! It’s all fear & darkness now.

There is thunder, and wind and lightening and hail raging in my head and I'm caught in this storm with no protection, no umbrella, no coat or boots.

I am so tired just trying to survive… I don't have the energy to live

When I was a child I just focused on surviving.
Now I am sick of working so hard to survive…when do I get to just live?
Not relive… live.

How do you find the balance? How do you let yourself feel and not become overwhelmed? How do you listen to the hurt ones and not blame them, feel too much, and become incapacitated by them?

Both Sunday and Monday nights I found myself so overwhelmed with the pain that I was lying on the bathroom floor in a full-fledged panic attack; alternating between shaking uncontrollably and hitting my head on the floor, to pacing the floor considering ways to **** myself. In that moment, anything, including death, is better than living like that night after night. Major crazybrain freak outs both nights!

I feel so far away from myself. Each morning, after a night of dissociation fear and destruction, I try to put myself back together again. But each time I break apart, it gets harder and harder to fit the pieces back together again. Somewhere in the midst of these nightmares I lost my soul. I am not connected to this soulless body… it is merely a carrier for my traumatized brain. I feel tangled inside a mind I cannot escape.

Every night so many voices, so much confusion. His face before me, his hands on my body, his breath breathing on my neck. She takes a step back to avoid contact with him. She cries out. He advances toward her. She takes another step back, retreats further into the dark abyss waiting for another to help with the pain. Hopeless. She reaches out faintly while being overtaken by the memories boiling over. Step back! Get back! Step back! Get away! Over and over, night after night. Shame. The unspoken pain and shame.  What happens when it truly becomes so overwhelming that it does **** me?

I find myself standing before the gates of hell. It is here, in this place of fear and pain, that I must fight my battles and face my enemies. The smell engulfs me…the stench of ignorance and glutting fill the air. The wind blows with the sounds of nothingness and you destroy who I was and I try to hold back who I want to be.

It is before the gates of hell I face you. My blood flows with each blow I allow you to make. My adrenaline pumps with each strike and contact. Vengefulness lingers in my heart. My body is hot while my skin is cold to the touch. With each thought I relive the pain you inflicted on me. I bleed from the wounds you made. My heart aches and my soul cries out.

I stand alone, here at the gates of hell. No one to have my back. No one to put you in your place. I stand alone to fight a battle I ignored for many years. Trying to erase the marks you left on my body. Trying to eliminate the scars you put in my memories. Blocking out the sounds when I said NO and you refused to hear me.

I stand here at the gates of hell; alone, cowering, crying, and searching for someone to hold me, to tell me all will be okay, to keep me safe, and help me up when I fall. Someone who will be there for me when I seek help.

It is at the gates of hell I throw my punches, scream my brains outs, and there is nothing but silence and emptiness. My punches make no impact, my screams have no sound. It is here at the gates of hell I stand.

                                                                     *My own personal hell.