Random Thoughts on Sensitivity and Pipe Dreams

 Everyone is so excited to be sort of, possibly, probably, in small ways, coming out of pandemic life and "getting back to normal." I want to punch something or cry every time I hear, read, or otherwise take in someone else's feelings about this. As I inspect these feelings, I've come to realize that I've got layers on layers of trauma surrounding the pandemic. My trauma differs from the trauma that all the "normal" people talk about because it's compounded trauma. For example, pandemic isolation for me comes on top of a growing isolation that had already been happening for 9.5 years before the pandemic started. And my isolation won't end when pandemic isolation ends for all the healthy able-bodied people in my life. It won't end probably ever. And that's just one example. 

I feel trapped a lot lately. This isn't a new feeling for me. I have a sense that I've felt imprisoned more often than not in my life, penned in on all sides at nearly every phase. Whether it's restrictions of various kinds imposed on me by others or by my body or even just by life, it feels like an ever present sense.

But then maybe I'm just being dramatic.

I do have a tendency to feel like however I am feeling right now is how I've felt for the longest time, even if in reality I felt the opposite just yesterday. 

Figure that one out.

I've decided to deem this year, The Year of Grief, because it's become undeniably apparent that I have years worth of unprocessed grief that refuses to be ignored any longer. Funny it should come about now, when getting myself into therapy isn't really an option because our family is in transition with income and health care and all that.

It's really difficult and painful listening to people talk about moving on when I feel so stuck. It's growing into another grief that feels too big to ignore but also too big to process. So I withdraw, tuck inside myself and try to protect whatever little bit of contentedness and good feelings I have left.

Unfortunately, just about every interaction right now involves some reference to "going back to normal."

It's a fresh stab into my sensitivity every time. 

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I barely noticed the winter, so deep have I been inside myself. Toward the end of February, Jeff suggested that perhaps winter was causing at least some of the depression I've been drowning in. I think I have explained my feelings by saying, "it's just everything," about million times at this point. I'm tired of talking about it and yet I seem to need to talk about it. 

More contradictions.

I have this feeling like it must be unbearable to be around me right now, at least if you're a person I confide in. I've got too many feelings and a numbness all at the same time. Too much anger. Too much grief. Too much hurt. Too much of everything I don't want. And no ambition to be creative or do things I enjoy because I feel so meh and neutral about them right now.

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Lately, I feel like I've been reduced to being one singular thing, that thing being "sick." Maybe it's just the natural course of things? I don't know. If you're a teacher, do you feel reduced into having "teacher" be your main identifier? 

I use illness as an identifier because it is a HUGE part of my life. It informs and directs so much about my life. It's not something I can get away from. But it isn't all I am. And it often feels like I've been boiled down into being only that.

I've been feeling so private about it, my health, lately. I almost wish I'd never told anyone. Maybe I feel that way because if no one knew, then they wouldn't be able to reduce me with it. 

I just want to be a whole person again. A normal person. A person with their life still out in front of them. 

These are my pipe dreams.

And I feel like I have so little control. My story, my narrative gets told and spread about whether or not I want it to, to people I don't even know sometimes, to be talked about and reduced even more. But I can't control what's said any more than I can control whether or not today will be a good or bad day.

It's just all too much right now. 

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