Safety behind my walls and locked doors

​As has been in the past, I sunk into a deep depression after the student workshops were over… I was very busy still with work commitments, so I was getting through it regardless of it’s strangle hold on me! But, the urge to hurt myself (Self Injury – SI) and suicidal thoughts were ruling. 
 
I am very sure I would not commit suicide… I think that no matter what, I’ve transcended the place in my mind where that would have been a possibility in my past, because I now recognise and feel strongly, that I have important responsibilities to LIVE for… children, grandchildren, sisters, brothers, close friends, books to write, my work, students, etc., so even with the vivid intrusive thoughts about it that I keep having to try to block out, I honestly don’t think I will ever get deep enough into my miseries to actually go there… I have learned a few techniques or strategies to lift me if I feel too deep… but at the time, I had two choices to stay out of it… to deal with the extreme and all-consuming anxiety that I was sitting with… and the one was to self-injure (which I didn’t do either).
 
Being in that state, I urgently needed to speak to someone, but WHO… ?  By then, my trust levels were kind of obliterated by recent events… I was struggling… I could have written to my online Logotherapist, but because of the shattered trust at the time, I had pulled myself too far back to be able to reach out to her… I am sure she would have said something that would have helped, but I couldn’t quite get back so that I could go there to her online… In my mind…  maybe she’d be fed up with me also.
 
I noticed how a strange habit from my past had suddenly returned… As I drove closer to home (about a block away) any time I’d been out, I’d instantly, without thinking, remove my seatbelt, because I would start to feel so suffocated.  In the past, when I lived in Benoni, it was so bad, I’d even have to rip off my bra, so that I could breathe.  (I believe that this habit came from the Patricia era of my life, with my stepfather preparing me with his disgusting, evil hand, for what he was going to do when we arrived home… after dropping our mother off for her night shift at the Red Fox Hotel in Rhodesia).  This habit and others had completely stopped since I started to study Logotherapy, but it was suddenly back for a few days over December.  I could not believe that it was happening again.  It’s one of those things where I just shake my head in disbelief and quickly put my safety belt back on again!
 
Another thing that interests me in observing my moods, etc., is that while I was housesitting this last week at my son’s house, I was full of energy… I had a good few responsibilities, taking care of my grandson’s bearded dragons and my granddaughters’ dogs, and the house, etc.  I loved surprising my family by leaving their house as spotlessly clean as I could for their return… it gave me such joy to do that.  But I got back to my house and immediately felt so detached from all the work that awaited me there, because we left so soon after Christmas, so the mess was still here.  Oh my goodness me… I struggled to find any energy at all and just wanted to curl up in my bed and sleep.  Thankfully, I am making some headway by today in getting things back into order, but it’s been such a battle.  I still have floors to sweep and wash… carpets to vacuum… washing to fold and iron… etc., but at least the kitchen is clean, and I can breathe a little better now.
 
On the 10th December, out of the blue, a more distant friend who has written a book on a very sensitive subject that I identify with, happened to write to me at that time and as she is detached from my immediate social surroundings and well educated, I felt that maybe she would understand.  I bravely shared with her, the method (taught to me by my previous therapist), that I had used to deal with this awful and overwhelming anxiety… I asked her, if it was something I should be sharing on my blog… I want my blog to be totally real, but I know that there are very likely people very near and dear to me reading it from time to time… and church people and people who don’t like me, etc…. so, there are just some more sensitive things I believe I can’t share… but I asked my friend what she thought about it anyway… her response below, which I feel is pretty much in-line with my own thoughts: 
 
“Regarding your blog – in my opinion, there is a fine line between bearing one’s all and sharing struggles.  Personally, I would not include the things you are referring to here on a blog.  If you feel you want to get it out of your system by writing, perhaps write a letter or whatever you would write, and then burn it.  Not everyone wants to be part of someone else’s pain to this extent, unless you feel that those who follow your blog would be fine with it.  Thanks for confiding in me as always.”
 
It is such a blessing to at least have one person that I can share these deeper things with.  It was not planned to share with her… but Life opened a door for me to speak to her right there and then.  I took a chance sharing with this person, but she was kind in her response.  I have other friends who I can occasionally share the deeper messed up stuff with, and they take it kindly too.  I am therefore very blessed to have such close friends who understand and give me guidance in dealing with my struggles and help me to find some of my more emotionally sound answers.
 
Anyway, around that time, my daughter visited and heard about my depression.  She asked why I had not let her know… I said that I’d not heard from her in a while, and as she must know by now, that if I have not heard from a person (even a person as close as my daughter) for a while, I start to think that they are upset with me, or I’ve done something wrong, etc., so I withdraw… in that state, I find it difficult to reach out… I feel I might be a burden, or make a fool of myself, or not be wanted, or irritate them, or something such.  She understood… I love her for that.
 
A close friend of mine had taken me out to his family event the one evening and promised to get me home by 9pm… knowing that lack of sleep is something I don’t do well with… he got me home late and I only went to bed around 11pm… because I was overtired, I could not fall asleep and when I woke only a few hours later, I woke wide awake, even though I was still exhausted, so the whole day ahead was wasted.  I just could not fall asleep again and napping later didn’t work… my mind was buzzing too much!  I was annoyed and he knew… then, I didn’t see him in ages and immediately believed all of the above and got myself into quite a sad and sorry state about it all… Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, etc., and it was days later, and only when I’d totally convinced myself that he and his family were now angry with me for daring to be annoyed first, did I find out that he and his family were on holiday… that’s why I had not heard from them.  They had told me they were going on holiday, but I’d forgotten.  (I am terribly forgetful at the best of times, but a whole lot more forgetful when stressed or upset).
 
I’m just mentioning these situations to try and illustrate a point.  With the way that my mind works, I do need regular reassurance.  The smallest thing… just a short WhatsApp every few days… anything, just to keep the connections open so that I don’t sink into that dark place again.  I especially need the connection-reassurance, when things are quiet at work and people are away on holiday… when my regular routine connections have changed as a result of holiday times, etc.
 
Recently, my youngest son added me back onto our family WhatsApp group.  I had deleted myself from there because I felt lonely on there… same reason as the church group I was on previously.  Like everyone was responding to everyone else’s comments but mine seemed to be ignored or not as important… and also, because some important (to me) family members refuse to be a part of the WhatsApp group, that also felt like rejection to me… it just felt so wrong.  I had recently mentioned in passing to my son who kept reading stuff to me off of the WhatsApp group, that whenever one of our dear members deleted herself from the group, (I believe for much the same reason’s as I eventually did), I refused to see her go, so I just kept re-adding her back on… but since I had deleted myself, it seemed that nobody missed me there in the same way.  So next thing, my son had added me again.  I just decided then to go with it and see what happens… I felt kind of happy to be back with at least those who do write on it from time to time… connection is so important to me… distance doesn’t feel right at all…
 
Anyway, this morning, they started to talk about my dad’s birthday coming up and what plans for a get-together… instantly I was filled with dread… I could not go there… TOO MUCH PRESSURE…
 
It’s like, I have surrounded myself with emotional protection walls… shut doors to my pain triggers, etc.… as long as nobody goes to where my pain is, I’m okay… but touching it this morning caused me to experience extreme anxiety almost instantly… I felt I couldn’t breathe… as if something heavy was sitting on my chest… panic attack threatening… pounding heart… I haven’t felt that in a long time… horrible… I started to think about running… where would I hide so nobody could find me… where could I go… ideas flashed through my head, and then intrusive, vivid thoughts about not opening my doors, but they send a child through the window to open the doors, etc… then suicidal thoughts again… not doing it, but in my imagination as the vivid and frightening story is being played out in my head, my bedroom door is locked closed and I’m threatening to take tablets if they don’t leave me alone… I hear my dad’s voice… I take the tablets and tell him I’m coming… I ask him if my brother is there…
 
Oh dear… this must sound so crazy… just now they will lock me up good and proper and throw away the key… but it is what it is…
 
But the fact is… once I have put up the walls and locked all my own doors to protect my emotional integrity, they cannot just be flung open as if nothing had ever happened… my emotions cannot be switched on and off at the wall… it just doesn’t work that way… my trust has to somehow be reestablished first…  
 
We are still in contact with each other occasionally via WhatsApp messages… those are not pressuring me… they feel safe… they distance me from the pressure of uncomfortable connections that I am escaping here in my safe place… those connections feel so distant, they may as well be on the other side of the world…
 
I am safe here… don’t try to force your way in… I’m not ready… I need to be here until I can find my own way out safely again…
 
There are places I can still go where I feel safe and can let down my guard… like I will be going to church tomorrow… I need to go there… I need some connection… but I cannot give much more right now…
 
I don’t know who is reading this, but I hope you understand if you are involved in any way… I’m not doing this to hurt anybody… I’m doing it to protect myself from emotions I am not coping with… my own emotions… but…  
 
I STILL LOVE-I STILL LOVE-I STILL LOVE!
 
~ Panayiota