Yellow Sun
Bronze Member
Terrified. All the time.
You say this, and my immediate thought is of how exhausting this might feel for you. I don't know, does it? I presume it would. I think you said you were realising how the time it took to cram your traumatizing memories back down, led to subsequent feelings of depression. I wonder if being terrified all the time also results in your periods of depression.
I was thinking about the body earlier this week; how terror (I think my experience is of various degrees of fear and anxiety, rather than terror) occupies the body - a body steeling itself against the constant threat of attack. But it's the terror itself that has now become a sustained assault on the body. For me this usually involves tightness around my forehead; a feeling of tightness around my throat, as if a hand is clamped around my neck; periodic holding of my breath - which, by the time my working day has finished, feels like I have in fact been holding my breath for the entire day; tightness around my chest; churning stomach; weakness in my legs. Quite a shopping list.
There are moments when I am less conscious of the invidual symptoms, and instead feel like my entire body has been gripped by a gigantic hand; or clenched in an oversized vise.
I can often feel like fear/anxiety claims my body. When I'm anxious it sometimes feels like my father is coursing just beneath the surface of my skin.
I feel some of these symptoms now - in the safety of my home. The symptoms are, and will, continue to dissolve throughout the course of the night/early morning (it doesn't usually feel like this by the time I return home from work). Terror's residue.
So when I was thinking about this stuff this week, it occured to me that as much as I might feel controlled and owned by fear - and angered that my body (let's not get started on what's happening mentally and emotionally) is put through this all the time, I could also feel a sense of awe (Only once the terror had dissipated I might add! ) at the resilience of the body. Its resilience being its ability to contain this trauma, and weather this storm time and time again (until such time that it finds healing). I'm not saying this is how you should feel, or that the body doesn't get sick from the impact, but rather thinking of it's resilience in the daily living with terror. Furthermore I reserve the right of retraction once sanity is restored! I guess I'm just sharing my offbeat thoughts with you, from what I hope is a respectful distance (I may need to work on that) so you don't feel totally alone as you sit on your island ;).
What you said about feeling terrified also brought something else to mind (Trust me, I can't believe I'm not done either). My recollection of a clip I came across on the internet is hazy. So unfortunately I may not be able to do justice to what I thought was a powerful analogy between a scene from one of the Halloween films (if this is triggering, I'm sorry - avoid the paragraph - I'm still learning) and the affects of abuse (in particular I think it was in reference to child abuse). The shot is of Jamie Lee Curtis, looking and behaving like a terrified woman - face drawn, eyes wide with terror, paralysed with fear etc. But to the observer - seeing only Curtis's behaviour - this just looks weird: pull yourself together, get a grip woman! Then the camera pans out, and the observer sees that there's an assailant in the room with her, wielding an axe, or some other sharp shiny object). Suddenly, it all makes sense. Curtis isn't 'a ditz' or some oddball. She has plenty reason to be terrified: the analogy being that for the adult with a traumatic history, the abuser is always in the room, wielding that axe - and therefore your terrified reaction makes perfect sense. I don't know...it just helped me to see there was a rationale for my behaviour. I'm not sure what you think.
But I'm safe at home. It's like the song 'I am a rock' by Simon and Garfunkel; "...hiding in my room, safe within my womb, I touch no one and no one touches me..." Except my cat, naturally.
So you have a place where you can feel safe. A place where your body can experience some degree of rest (And let's not forget you have your cat :)). So I'm also guessing this is the place where you experience "some kind of comfort"? (your womb, not the cat - obviously :rolleyes:). Where you're left alone and ignored? But this is your way of comforting yourself. And it seems to me that it's vital you receive it from somewhere. Until such time you experience the realisation that you deserve a lot more...