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talesfromacrip · 4 years

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d r e a m s:

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(( I’m sick and tired of having nightmares that involve me getting lost, losing someone I deeply care about, or something just, really fucking terrible in general that seems like a good thing, but makes me incredibly sad ))

oneI was camping with some people I know. I was walking around and then I got lost. I ended up in a giant field

I was in the middle and called out, nothing came out. I was mute and then I could hear everyone and I ran back and somehow slipped down into a building of some kind? the dream transitioning

I was near a staircase of sorts and then I feel someone grab my back. They then push me backwards into it. I wake up

Nature is scary to me and I don’t like getting lost, but falling down the stairs to my death?? That was an actual thing I wanted to do.. it’s, horrifying to see it happen in a way and feel as well

A reoccurring one I have where I’m sittting in an office of sorts waiting to see a doctor. Everyone I knew was coming in and out at leisure once done with appointments and would look at me with a sort of plastic face after. Once it was my turn, I was inside instantly and met with a high backed chair. A woman’s voice spoke to me, asking me all sorts of questions I don’t remember but remember being asked. Felt like forever In the end they turn around and it was me.. am I like, my own therapist and one for others in some ways? I don’t really know, but it was pretty strange

Had one where I was at another mall/concert venue and this time it was to see some show. There were people running suddenly because someone had a fucking gun. I saw blurred out faces and could only stand there. Didn’t do anything, didn’t move as people ran past me

I then hear it pop somewhere near my ear, waking me up frantically after

Reason I had this, and i know damn sure is bc there was a fucking shooting not even 15 mins from my house.. How lovely to know

Like, wtf... I want to take people there when they visit, but now I don’t want to go near it and dreaming of it makes it worse bc I don’t want to even go out

...

I’ll probably just the other dreams up or maybe not, idk. depends

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(( I don’t wanna wake up from them. I have a leave the server mood, which, is pretty awful.

I haven’t thought about that much. Occasionally I will, bu t not this bad.. sigh Internalized ableism is a bitch and so are other things, but shit

I’m glad I’m over something’s in my life,but some stuff just gets brought up again or happens.it overwhelms me so much..so fucking much ))

I hate having dreams of me in places I’ve never been too and never will for reasons that can’t be helped. Obvious ones

Seeing people I know minding their own business or doing extraordinary things that I’m involved in which I know some will never happen or happen as I’d like

Dreams where I’m running from someone or maybe something? calling out into a dark and empty void. Falling, being alone in the action. Ughh

Dreams where I can’t go outside anymore bc there’s a wall. Kinda like in a video game to mark the end of a map boundary..

it’s like I’m in that black mirror episode of that woman trapped in her mind who can see outside while her body is on this, odd autopilot mode. I wake up feeling so empty bc of these dreams, upset, the whole pie essentially or less

My dreams feel so alive and it’s nice to feel that, but waking up and then having to deal with reality. sinks in pretty fast and hits you with a fatal heart bullet

sometimes I’m dying of heat from them or shortness of breath like I was startled or crying heavily, sometimes I wake up and try not to cry if it’s too much. I’ll occasionally go back to sleep but I’ll just end up in the same cycle essentially. I don’t want that

I start having mood swings from them and feel ashamed when I shouldn’t.it’s not fun to explain what happened in your tiny little head sometimes during the night hours. I act sort of, distant and bitchy in the process and i don’t mean to. I just,don’t like bringing up the same things and sometimes not

especially if someone I know is in them constantly and it’s, personal. Makes things awkward when talking with them

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I hate having dreams where I’m married to someone who I know doesn’t see me that way and it hurts my heart so much. At least it’s someone who actually cares about me

I can’t do anything for them though and never will. hurts

idk why my brain thinks I c a n.. it’s a pretty sick joke tbh. Maybe I can do somethings, but not as I’d like. I want to do so much for them, but can’t at all..

I know they probably care about someone else anyway like that who’s just, wayyyy better than me in every way:l

Probably closer, can move easily better than me, nicer than me, more upfront. Not struggling with stupid parents and a stupid crippled lifestyle. Probably makes them extremely happy and not a sad ass mess. Probably does better art than me, cooks better

Hell, I bet they even look better than me as well.. but who fucking knows?

I can’t even talk to them properly anymore it seems, probably think I hate them or don’t want to do anything with them when I want to so badly, but I just don’t say anything. I don’t want to hurt myself more, but I already am

I resort to small talk and whenever I don’t, I talk about some dumb shit instead of actually saying how I’m truly feeling and all that and it pisses me off..can’t even get married anyway :)) Like, thank brain and heart

I hate having these fluffy dreams of having this life with this person..a comfy one that’s so perfect it could melt your eyes from the sap it produces. It’s so warm, but oh so far away and out of my reach.. physical, mentally..

Obviously I don’t hate it, I just hate how my brain tortures me like this

Sometimes I’ll have dreams where they don’t see me, hear me.. just, ignore me completely. They talk about me like I never existed, say horrendous things.. I know they are not true but it just seems like it

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I wish I didn’t have the ability to dream tbh. Sure it may be nice and everyone’s or somes, "favorite activity", but I just don’t really like it much anymore

My dreams hurt worse than reality and it makes my heartache so badly every time I wake up.. I have to put on my face though and just, go with flow as they say.. to just lay there though, every morning and not being able to do what you like, but can in another state, is so weird and confusing on the mind and body. Mine to be exact. Sure it may as well be the coolest thing ever and may help with your problems and such but it’s just heart aching in general. For me that is, sigh

I hate waking up feeling horny because I cannot do anything about it or touch myself as I’d like.. just, sad what more can I say on that?

I do feel happy occasionally from some dreams at times, but then reality hits me like an isekai truck right after and I’m kinda left in this weird empty state in the process when I wake up. -

I cope with them by being a silly ass or what seems to be like a rude bitch, but it’s difficult to just downright say what’s going on. don’t want to ruin anyone’s day with my problems and with everything going on, but I must and I never do? I try?? ughh.. If only I could be a bit better with handling things.

I’ll get there, eventually?��We’ll see

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I love and "hate" having dreams about living on my own without a care in the world. it’s as if I never had any problems to begin with; sun shining on my face as I realize over time it’s all just a facade and I’ll wake up soon bc it’s just, too perfect..

something is just, off completely? Like I’d ever have a place with stairs and inaccessible hallways and whatnot.. pshh, I’ve never really dreamt about living in an accessible place or anything like that much anyway bc of the immense ableism put on me growing up

It’s hard to explain that to people as well and makes you feel, alien in some ways

I thought it was something silly I noticed, but over time it just made so sad bc I will never be able to live on my own and never will, but in my dreams I can. which makes it worse on me bc it’s just, not gonna happen champo

cooking foods I like and would like to, relaxing at my own pace with no yelling or screaming, opening the door to warm familiar faces.. hurts

I don’t have many scary anxiety induced dreams like I did last year and before. now they’re just, idk very abled and it’s weird and I don’t like em much

Idk why i never noticed till the end I guess, but it’s better than dreaming of people who used to hurt you and made you feel like shit about your life and your friends as well so that’s a plus in its own ways

ughh, self torture is a bitch and she’s out to get me ughh

#therapy journal #disabled post #disability #dreams #internalized ableism #ableism

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abnahaya · 5 years

Text

Digging into My Insecurity

As I write this post, I just randomly replied to a “gifted” Twitter mutual coz he was saying that he’d give random suggestion to his followers. He told me: Insecurity rooted from self-doubt. Stop it.

Rewind to half a year ago, when bae & I joined a couple class as a prerequisite to our marriage, we started with answering a bunch of questions (hundreds of them, actually) that covers Personality Trait, Sex & Affection, Parenting, Background and Finance. On our first meeting with the reverend, he told us our result. Overall it was good, but I remember clearly that the result showed that I was highly stressed (probably due to the wedding plans and all) and I have a very low self-esteem. Like, 20 out of 100, or maybe less, idk, it was on a chart.

Now, if you know me in person, you’d laugh. No way! You don’t look like it!

Maybe I never want the world to know.

Or maybe I secretly wish anyone would notice.

Both are correct.

***

Back in the days, I don’t know about the habit of shaming, people do it all the time. Even there was a time when I thought it was better to get shamed frontally rather than having someone talking bad behind your back, because betrayal was such a painful thing. You see, I grew up in a conservative Javanese family, we uphold the value of shame a lot. It’s a shame to talk about sex, it’s a shame for children to talk back to their parents, it’s a shame for parents to show their weakness to their family, it’s a shame to let others know about bad things that happens between your family, and so on. They can say anything about this tradition, but what I feel I was taught mostly in my life is shame, therefore I wasn’t surprised at all when I other people actually made me feel ashamed of things like my appearance, my test result, my opinions, etc. The best dogma I’ve ever received from my culture is to hold back and accept the shame, because it’s a shame to shame others even when they shame you, if that even makes sense.

Eventually, I forgot about being “shamed”, and began to accept what was told as mere facts, like “Oh dear you and your boyfriend are like coffee and milk, you look so silly together!” When I looked at the mirror, I did see a tan girl, and my boyfriend at the time was indeed white as pearl, so it was kind of true? I thought as I tried to ignore the weird, dark feeling creeping from the back of my head. I shouldn’t take these things into the heart and just continue living, as I have always been taught, I needed to grow up and part of growing up is to face the harsh world that shames you pretty much for your entire life.

So I did. However, the things I tried so hard not to reach deep enough inside my heart, went straight to my brain instead. I started believing them. Not only the “facts” that shoved down my ears, but also countless of possibilities calculated from it. I started making strategies to battle the “bad things” about me. If I was dark-skinned and not as attractive as my fellow fair-skinned girlfriends, I had to build my own ways to get closer to the guys (I was a teenager and I read too many teenlit novels), such as being their closest friends whom they could always count on and maybe, one day could steal their heart from my kind personality which had completely no ulterior motives. This narrative then developed to be the cool girl strategy, in which, I became so fun and easy-going and with a mind “similar” to a boy, became rEaLlY dIfFEreNT fRoM oThER gIRLs, and basically ended up catching feelings to 100 guy friends who never took me seriously, because duh? Boys just wanna have fun!

Wow, it’s pretty disgusting when I put it into words now, but the 2000-something me truly believed in it to the point that I actually thought I defeated the things people used to shamed me for. The problem was that, they —other people never actually stop shaming me at all. Instead, the shaming evolved, sometimes into something just completely different or other times, worse. By the time I thought they would stop calling me ugly, they called me fat, bitch and still shaming my dark skin. No matter how I tried to show people my good side, they found hundreds bad things about me, over and over again. And I believed them.

I think what was even worse, was the fact that I also was consumed by the shaming culture that I took part of it too. At first, I used it for a self-defence, I didn’t want people to keep digging into my “bad sides” so I pointed out others that I considered worse than me, to be a juicier object of shame. Some people really deserved it, according to me, trying to make myself feel better in silence. Soon it became a habit for me too, not only I needed more approval, I also wanted to reach a better position in others’ eyes. I did the thing I feared the most when I was a little girl, I betrayed my friends, I shamed them behind my back. I felt like I didn’t receive enough recognition in the relationship that I needed to convince others —but mostly myself, that these people had nasty sides on them.

I didn’t feel so much shame in the shaming anymore because I knew I had the power to shame them too. In fact, I have abandoned the understanding of the word for so long that I didn’t think it mattered. Nothing was more important than saving my face, and if possible, delivering greatness and praise to my feet.

***

Sadly, I had to learn the lesson the hard way. There was a point in my life when I lost everything. Not physically, but mentally. I lost many support systems, was betrayed by them, and fell straight into a deep hole of depression. There was a saying that it’s good to reach the rock bottom, since the only way is up from there. They just didn’t mention how rough the climb was.

As I sat alone with my naked self in the deepest pit of mourning, I counted the comrades that had left me. Confidence, opportunity, cheerfulness, positivity, badass-ness, toughness, bravery. Only one was there, insecurity. In the same moment I realized, insecurity didn’t just come around when I had nothing, it was always there. In fact, she was the one holding the banquet filled with all other “characteristics”. Insecurity was the one opening the shame chamber and locking me inside it, making myself believe that I was out there conquering the world when I was actually always here, in the bottom of a dark, gloomy place, reciting bad words like mantras that would make the darkness go away for a while.

I felt like time wrapped backwards before me, to my first visit inside the pit. I was full of shame, I was burdened with guilt, and I had a terrible feeling in my stomach. That was my introduction to insecurity, yet I was too young and too naïve to recognize it. People kept telling me to get over it, yet all I heard was noises around the pitch-black space, without anyone bringing a light. So, I learned to make a fake one because I was so desperate to see one, I never thought of getting out.

***

It’s been years from that point of my life. My eyes are used to the darkness now. Insecurity no longer takes control of my head, instead I hold its hand and climb up together. Some days, we fell rolling down, it hurts, and my eyes are blocked with tears, but others we kept on going for hours, days and even weeks. Obviously, we haven’t reached the end of the vertical tunnel just yet, as I could refer to the opening of this post, but along the way I’ve met my new comrades. Sincerity, passion, patient, and love. Sometimes confidence comes along, but it hasn’t showed up as much as before, and that’s okay. I can feel bravery pushes me from behind every now and then, and I wish to embrace it one day. I am still far from my purpose, but I finally know how to savour the journey.

I mean, I’m not surprised that “gifted” people (or simply psychiatrist) tell me that I’m insecure inside because I’ve practically been living with it my whole life, so that’s kind of true. It’s just so much different when I’ve acknowledged it myself. I’m still the same person, but many things also change within me. Like, when I’m easy going around guys, now I can truly say I don’t have any ulterior motives —not because I’m married (well, that too!) but because I am easy going, either with guys or girls. I can proudly say that being a tomboy was only a phase of my life, and that I don’t need to change anything in my appearances. I get to know myself better!

But I guess the best thing about making peace with my own insecurity is to actually be cool about the bad things that I used to avoid so much. If someone goes to my face and tells me to lose weight because I look like a pig, I’d just lift my shoulders and say, “I’m trying but I’m not rushing.” I can stand up to the things I truly believe in, no matter how much “shame” it brings according to other people, such as I believe we need to talk about sex openly because we desperately need a better sex education. And even though some new dilemmas and problems may arise from these, I’m no longer confused, because I’m not scared to go to that gloomy pit anymore, I have hopes and purpose that someday I will reach the light in the end of the tunnel —together with my insecurities, flaws and strong points on board.

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