The Long-Term Aftermath of Abuse

     Today, as I stare down the barrel of yet another ending relationship, I wonder if I will ever again be able to feel spiritually joined with another human being. The last time I can recall that feeling was with my abuser, and all of my other memories pale in comparison to that. The thought sickens me. Was I only able to feel that "connection" with M because he lied and acted so well, or was it something that came from me? More importantly, if it came from me, is that bit of my soul still alive? I haven't felt much from it in years. I can feel tenderness. I can feel love in some varieties, but the soul-merging passion that I crave has been lost to me. Some days I have hope that I will share that connection with someone again, but others I fear that "soul mates" doesn't actually exist, and any relationship I pursue will end in a rut of stagnation and misunderstanding.
   
     I'm terrified of being alone again, but the thought of zombie walking through a passionless relationship sounds worse than death. I want my body to awaken. I want my soul to awaken, but now, more than ever I am seeking complete isolation. Again, the fear of perpetual loneliness, of aloneness. I feel myself pulling away from my family and friends, preferring the four walls of my home to the constant scrutiny of others. I'm exhausted just by being out in a world where I feel constantly judged based on my looks, facial expression, gender, disabilities, perceived intelligence, and whatever the fuck else the general public feels like criticizing me over today. It just doesn't seem worth it to keep putting myself out there. At times, I feel ready to quit all my in-person jobs and complete the retreat, but I know I cannot. Not because I need the money as much as I need the people. I know I need you all, but I'm so exhausted just from existing that it's really hard to reach out sometimes.
   
      So, I hang on to my jobs knowing that at the very least, there will be human interaction in my life on a fairly regular basis and try to cling to hope that maybe, maybe some day, someone will speak to my soul again.

My Dreams for 2016

   

     On this road to recovery, I remember reading somewhere that sustaining a great trauma can force a premature spiritual awakening that would have taken decades to reach otherwise. Since facing crippling physical and emotional obstacles over these past few years, the scope of my worldview and empathy has shifted to something outside myself. Finally, I can see the suffering that lies underneath the various faces I greet day after day, the loss, the pain, the tough choices. I was never able to see it before. Once I had risen from my psychic prison, having won the battle against the voice that whispered, "You will never know happiness or love again," I began to catch glimpses of the battles that people all around me are fighting day after day. I see how they keep showing up, and how they sometimes give up temporarily, but eventually they come back to continue their fight.
   
     I hate the reality that loss and change are part of this human existence. I hate letting go. I hate moving on. I'm a nostalgic person and I want to treasure everything and everyone that crosses my path, even when they turn out to be incompatible with my sanity or spiritual growth. That being said, there are so many things right now that need changing. Things can not stay as they are.

     I believe if the humans in this world could take a minute and think long term, so many things will start to fall into place. I read about how we could change the infrastructure of the global energy system and start solving HUGE problems like global warming, which is obviously going to start taking out the struggling and impoverished first, but will eventually come to effect everyone on this planet, either through available land or food scarcity, yet here we are, supporting someone like Donald Trump, who is so focused on building a wall, which will not really do a damned thing to end any sort of suffering.

     I'm scared, because I know these are types of things that can not be accomplished alone, yet we're too busy bickering amongst ourselves about whether we should we fear more, Mexicans or transgendered Americans? Maybe violence would decrease if we could create a sustainable energy infrastructure capable of providing food for those that are currently stealing it. Maybe if we pay attention to how many industries are not acting as good stewards to the planet, we could start making a dent in how much damage we are causing.

     I'm of the belief that by slowing changing our minds, one by one, we will start to manifest the types of healing changes that are needed to create a sustainable, peaceful, human race, but until we can band together and start electing people that reflect these priorities, I fear we will be seeing a lot more hate and trauma as we target Muslims, transgendered people, Mexicans as scapegoats for our fears. Every time I read a hateful, dehumanizing comment, I am taken back to the depths of my trauma, where I no longer felt human, no longer connected to this race of people, complete in my isolation with nothing but my telephone and Facebook to keep me in touch with the spiritual threads that bind us all.

     I used to feel alone in this pain, but now I see how many of you are suffering right there with me, and how many have suffered and survived to become the beautiful, empathetic people you are today. Keep hanging on. Keep dreaming. I know you all are out there, and I'm beginning to feel strong enough to come seek you. I want to share ideas. I want to listen to your dreams. I want to change the world.

The Windmills of My Mind

     After being successfully medicated into submission for a better part of 2015, the windmills of my mind are back on in full tilt. Though my mood does seem elevated compared to my “normal,” citalopram does not appear to be quieting the chitta vritti a.k.a. “monkey-mind” the way paroxetine did. Fewer side effects and fewer benefits it seems.

     These days, when I consider my chaotic mind, I attribute it more to being autistic than being human. Always, in the past I have spoken of the disabling commentary running through my mind and asked, “Does anybody else know how I feel?” and invariably people would chime in that yes, of course they know what I mean.

     Now I’m wondering, who of you out there do NOT know what I mean? By you, I mean the presumed “neurotypicals.” Do you exist and who are you? Yes. Seriously. I think I’ve been surrounded by Aspies my entire life and wouldn’t know neurotypical if it bit me in the ass, but I suspect that some of you are actually well-functioning adults. So if you are willing, humor me for a second and read through a sample list of things that go through my mind on one of my “typical days” (and remember that this is going on 24/7 in my brain, and not just once in a while when I have too much caffeine) and let me know if you do not have this type of nonsense rattling around in your mind, and you have no idea what it would be like.

     You know…for science, and because it’s cheaper than consulting a psychologist, which is something I plan on doing when I can stop being autistic for a second…which isn’t likely to happen any time soon because grad season is about to start and I never quite have enough spoons for that as it is…

     I digress, yet I also prove my point. So, things I have worried about/obsessed over/felt generalized anxiety over TODAY include (well, technically yesterday because it’s now 4am and GOD DAMN IT. This is what I’m talking about. This obsessive attention to detail and need for specificity that drives everyone else BONKERS.)

Also:

• What is going to happen to the kittens that my therapist found under her shed? 
• Is my boyfriend’s cat diabetic? 
• I haven’t seen random girl from the gym come in with who I assume to be her boyfriend, in awhile. Maybe I should ask her about him so I can give her a pep talk about how hot she is and tell her that she could pick up any guy she wants, because you know, that wouldn’t be awkward at all. 
• Does random dude man at the gym find me attractive? 
• Does random hot chick at the gym think I’m a doofus? 
• Do people assume I’m an idiot when I’m up front about my shortcomings like when I just explain to customers that my short term memory is actually so shitty that they need to remind me to see if the tanning bed ever became available, because SHINY THING. 
• What the serious fuck is going to happen in this country if Trump wins the general election? 
• How can anyone in the world confuse a transexual with a pervert? People undergoing that dramatic of a personal transformation have got what’s going on with THEMSELVES on their mind, obviously. These are not the people to be feared. 
• How is this planet going to heal itself in time for our survival if we don’t do anything en masse to help it along? 
• Will I be able to muster up the willpower to brave the grocery store before I start running on a more horrific calorie depletion than I did today? 
• Will I ever be able to save up a down payment on a house if I don’t have a man to rely on financially? 
• Could I just call up my film friend Amy in L.A. and start doing sweet P.A. work on real productions? (but seriously…) 
• Portland…should I move to Portland? 
• Let’s double check the work schedule to make sure I’m not double-booked anywhere. OH SHIT! I’m double-booked! Stop everything! (and one quick text and this is resolved in two minutes and did not even warrant a heightened heart rate) 

and I’d say that amount of worrying/daydreaming took up only about a half hour of my day. Granted, it was a slow day at work, but when I was taking paroxetine, all of this noise just melted away. So, comments? Does anyone not live in their heads under duress of a nonstop internal monologue that is overanalyzing every thing that crosses your path?