Site icon Cara Thereon

Trust me not

Cara with her legs propped up on the wall

Ramble incoming. Buckle up!

Imma be honest, I don’t particularly feel like blogging or talking or sharing. So why am I instead of just staying silent? Because that’s the path of least resistance, me not saying anything at all. At times, it feels like I do it, disconnect or disassociate from my thoughts and emotions, because I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s easier to think nothing than to deal with the pressure of a ton of intrusive thoughts.

Anyway, that’s not the point of why I sat down to write. The beginning of this month, I was meant to write a bit of a summary of last month’s writing that I did on story.caratheron.com. Just a recap of where my head was and how I felt writing after a long hiatus. It didn’t happen because – shocking – I hit an emotional low and couldn’t even be bothered to write 2 paragraphs before I deleted the whole mess.

Where was my head at the time? Fucked over about the growing darkness, depleted from writing (a normal thing after a month of it), and just down.

It’s funny to me how a bout of severe depression makes any subsequent lows so much easier to fall into. And by funny, I mean I hate it. It’s been an absolute bitch to get anything done.

Lately, talks with my therapist have turned to acknowledging many of the emotions I’m ignoring. She guides me through discovering how they may be trying to help or protect me in someway. How doing that instead of ignoring them has helped deal with some of the depression that plagues me. As we’ve carried on – me battling a low, exploring the source of it, and feeling lighter when I actually take that time – I’ve realized something; I don’t trust.

This isn’t just an “I don’t trust other people”. I don’t, to be frank. If I’ve said nothing else, I’ve been very honest about my struggle with being an emotional vampire. Battling through others’ emotions stifles my own. No big deal, but when I’m in a literal maelstrom of emotions, I can’t then swim back to the surface even when things settle down. So it’s a bit like drowning and as a compensatory thing, I push my own emotions down.

But this is about trust, right? My usual assumption is someone will do something to destroy my tentative trust in them. To be fair, as humans we disappoint each other. It can’t be helped. I’ve been wounded before so it can be a challenge to climb back on the trust wagon once it’s broken down.

The other thing is I don’t trust myself really. That’s big though and something I’m trying to sort out. I feel like the pressure to make decisions mean I tend to make bad ones. I struggle to extend grace to myself because I don’t trust myself to do the right thing. What if I fuck it all up? There’s no fixing it if it’s fucked.

I feel like that’s the spot I’ve been in lately. Depressed and trying to solider on. Scared to make choices because I feel I’ll pick wrong. Unable to communicate what I’m thinking because my feelings are buried under a big blanket. It’s like walking through molasses.

So how was writing last month then? Good in many ways. It felt good being creative and pushing through the fog to do so. It made me feel hopeful that life hadn’t swallowed me whole. It also made me question what my aim with my Patreon was long term. You want people to show appreciation for your work, but what of/in what you do has value? I keep meaning to revamp things, but how much? What do I offer? What can I offer when half the time I’m focused on getting up and doing the minimum required to life?

As for this month, I’m muddling through NaNo with a decent idea. Let’s see how far I get (and what I manage to post).

I’m here, life-ing. Trying to stay rooted in my positives where I can. Planning to spend the winter with my best friend and see if my little LED lamp brings some happy sunshine in. Feeling my way through a lot of things slowly. I’m ever hopeful even in my struggle. Hope is all we got at times.

700+ words that felt like a thousand. Writing is hard sometimes.

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