I’m not sure what I’m writing for right now…I’m just going to write.
I feel nothing. I feel disconnected. I don’t feel real somehow. I’m not going to do something unhelpful about it, so I’m just here typing.
Sometimes I get into this state when I feel emotionally hurt…it’s almost like my brain protects itself. It also happens pretty regularly the more my weight falls to the point of feeling constantly emotionally anesthetised. Is it better this way or not?
I feel like it’s better sometimes because I don’t have to feel absolutely everything! For some reason people assume autistics aren’t emotional just because we don’t always truly express our feelings, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Sometimes I think I struggle so much because of just how much empathy I hold. I hurt for everybody. I can’t help it…it’s part of who I am, but it becomes dangerous because it’s a lot of emotion to hold onto & it has to come out somehow.
Numb. That’s how I feel in this moment. Disconnected & detached from the world. Wondering who I am. Questioning whether I’m even existing in this very moment or whether or not this is all just some kind of dream. Completely distant from reality. I can be mindful in these moments & pay attention to specific things, but for me…it isn’t when I’m numb that that’s helpful. I’m usually already unbelievably calm when I’m like this & on a night like tonight…it makes me want to walk in the dark & feel the breeze on my skin, but from past experience…I know it’s more dangerous for me to go out & do that in this state. I get a desire where I just want to continue walking in the dark…sometimes just wishing that I would. I’m staying at home & I’ll likely go straight to bed after this & sink into my mattress & allow my subconscious to take over for the night.
When I restrict more & when my physicality declines, this feeling is more common in occurrence. It’s one of the reasons as to why restriction is so addictive for me. I believe it’s more helpful for me this way (or so the eating disorder has me believing). It’s my ‘coping mechanism’.
Is it helpful though?
It’s almost like burying your head in the sand. Distracting yourself from the bad, but when you raise your head back above the parapet…you only have to face the bad again…the only difference is that you’ve faced it later.
Numbness doesn’t just take away the bad though. It’s like an antibiotic…you swallow the pills to take away the bad bacteria, but those pills also kill the good bacteria…it’s one of the reasons that they’re not good for long-term use. Numbness consumes the bad feelings, but also consumes the good. You don’t enjoy the things you enjoyed before. You don’t feel the joy or happiness in a way that you did before. Everything feels like an act & you feel like your responses are somewhat robotic – your computer knows what responses are typical to specific situations & responds in a mechanical way & so…you get by, BUT…you’re not a robot…you’re a human.
Being so distant is like falling down a black hole. You feel so incredibly lost. You feel as though the ground has swallowed you up…or at least…it’s swallowed up the emotions & the reality that you knew.
Yes…it protects you from the bad to a degree, but the consequence is a loss of the good & a loss of truly living.
I feel like I’m providing people with robotic answers to protect myself. I don’t really know what I want in this state…it becomes the answers that the computer within calculates. Motivation…what even is that? I have no drive in me at all this week. Everything I’ve worked for feels like a distant memory. It’s like trying to hold onto water & having it fall through the cracks in your fingers instead. The future seems like a faraway dream, but the faraway isn’t that faraway anymore. I feel as though I should be ready to embark on that next step of my life now. I’ve felt ready for it up until quite recently. Maybe it’s the overwhelming fear that’s thrown me into this state. Maybe it’s the physical decline in my body & eating disorder that’s thrown me into this state – perhaps I’ve gone too far under that line that my body/brain functions properly at. I’ve been trying to claw myself into recovery, but in the state I’m in right now…I just feel like a cat that’s clinging onto a curtain whilst being dragged off…the claws are stuck in there, but the curtain’s being pulled further away from the ceiling & your claws are beginning to slice longer cuts down the material…the curtains aren’t as strong or as effective as they were…the curtains are no longer where they were before either & the eating disorder is persistent & won’t stop trying to pull you completely off of that curtain. You feel as though you’re losing grip.
I really wish I could turn this into some kind of really positive message, but this week & in the here & now…I’m afraid it just isn’t going to happen. This is currently the reality I’m in…whatever reality that is when I feel so distant from it. I never started this blog for it to become a wonderful mirage of all things beautiful about recovery, because…that isn’t reality even though some people will have you believing that it is. Recovery isn’t a linear process. Recovery is worth it…yes, but that’s not to say that it isn’t utterly exhausting & it certainly isn’t easy or straightforward.
Life feels extremely weird just now. I don’t have much sense of direction. It’s not to say that I won’t start to feel better again, but right now…I’m here with my numbness whilst I wait for some sort of sensation to return.
My Twin Within 