Being Social

I haven’t posted back to back entries in a while.

I wanted to tell y’all what I did.

After sifting through myself.

My attempt at adding logic to it.

And debating what was the issue at hand.

I got back on facebook yesterday.

I need to be social.

I’m craving it.

Even if just through social media.

For the time being.

I am proud of myself for not looking at it for over five months.

Five months.

That’s a huge step for me too.

I’m not going to post anything beyond links to this at this time.

My entries say more than I ever could on a post.

I’m hopeful that it is a good idea.

I’m reminding myself to remove the expectations.

I will not feel validated by it.

I will not be pleased with it most of the time.

But it helps me see what the people I love are doing.

And how their kids are growing.

And I missed it.

I don’t expect myself to be super social anymore.

I was a social butterfly for many years.

My exhaustion is now at the helm.

And the voices.

They’re still here.

In and out.

Today it’s not too bad.

Yesterday I saw the same neighbor from the other month.

And I physically panicked.

Mentally I became hypervigilant.

Obsessive thought patterns.

And played out situations.

Over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

Looping in my head.

I know some of it was them.

Lately they’ve been fairly obviously not real at least.

The voices that is.

Because of the clarity.

And the walky-talky type in and out.

The flawless annunciation is another clue to it being the voices.

They are always crystal clear.

But staticky.

Like a VHS tape.

It’s tough to differentiate at times.

Because the neighbors do talk about me.

There are clues though.

Subtleties.

Repetitive things that are difficult to explain.

I’m trying to not listen.

Trying to avoid them.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.

I notice I hyperfixate on what they’re saying.

It’s all I can think about when I’m hearing it.

Is that real?

No.

It’s not.

Is it?

No.

It can’t be.

No.

Maybe..

What did they just say?

Nope.

See, they just said what I’m doing and that’s not going to happen in real life.

Yeah, no.

Not real.

I look down to realize I’ve been going over in my mind like this for ten minutes.

Twenty.

An hour.

Three even.

It can become incredibly encompassing.

But I’d say nearly eighty percent of the time.

When I’m in a controlled environment.

Like my apartment.

I can now tell what is real.

And what isn’t.

Much different than the last thirty-some-odd (almost forty) years of my life.

But some of the time it still gets muddled.

Today isn’t one of those days.

Today I’m able to know what’s a hallucination and what isn’t.

These are the good days.

I write during most of my days.

But a lot of what I post.

Is written on days like today.

I’m reflective.

I’m patient with myself.

It’s nice.

Within the past month.

Within the realm of trying to be nice to myself.

I’ve been attempting to remind myself that I’m usually, currently, not in danger.

Especially with my neighbors.

And that bullshit.

That there’s nothing to react to.

I am able to respond.

That this situation.

Right now.

Did not put me in physical danger.

And when I become so frustrated at something.

And confused.

And feel the rage creeping in.

And feel my body start to rebel.

I have been trying to tell myself.

Out loud if needed.

That I am not in danger.

I try to take a couple of breaths.

And let my body loosen.

It’s been helping.

Sorta.

Slowly.

When I remember to do all that.

It’s hard to give myself pep talks.

I’ve never cared about it before.

Never gave a single fuck.

Now I have been trying very, very, very hard to not heavily, actively hate myself.

I know I’ve said that before.

It’s a difficult task though.

Going against a lifelong belief.

Of being horrible.

It’s a life changing, daunting task.

When the hallucinations take hold I have to cut the voices from my thoughts.

Because now I know.

They are not the same.

And that alone is a heavy thing to wrap my head around.

The voices are the ones that actively hate me.

Not people I know.

Not ones I call friends.

Not my family.

Not even maybe myself.

I’m still unsure on that one.

But it’s hard trying to be social.

When my entire inner world has been flipped upside down.

I’m seeing through a different filter than I have at any other point in my life.

It’s scary.

It’s terrifying to open up to others.

When I’ve just now learned to open up with myself.

And it’s still such a new thing.

I have to remind myself that people I know love me too.

And even just typing that right now makes me tear up.

Because writing it down makes it real.

And I need to understand that people I know are on my side.

Even if it is tough to explain.

Or describe what I feel and see sometimes.

Or say why I’m upset.

Or describe how I got to that conclusion.

That everything in my head is telling me to protect myself from everyone.

No exceptions.

To be an army of one because all people bring with them is pain.

But that’s not entirely accurate is it?

People bring more joy than pain.

And when I put myself out there.

When I just yesterday decided to open up to the ones that love me the most.

I opened up the possibility to be hurt.

And the possibility to be happy.

– Keren