sometimes, i sit in front of a blank text box for as long as 20 minutes. it's not that i don't know what to say, but more that everything i want to say is something that i don't want someone to read. but at the same time, writing it in my actual journal just doesn't seem to clear the thought. i need someone to read it. i never could figure out why there are things that we need to have other people hear. i guess, if we didn't, we wouldn't communicate with other human beings. but why are there personal things that, frankly, really don't affect anyone but ourselves, and yet we feel the need to have other people know what we're thinking? alright, well, they obviously do affect other people, but those aren't... why am i trying to explain this...
i feel like all of my emotions have been recreated. everything feels completely different, no matter what it is. before, all of my emotions were based on the foundation of me still hating myself. i let other people control my emotions. i convinced myself that my actions were only because ___ did ____. everything was too extreme. i believe they call it "all-or-nothing" thinking in DBT. if something seemed or felt the slightest bit off, everything was about to go wrong and my world was about to fall apart. if something went well, everything was amazing, i was manic, and could usually expect to crash within the next couple of hours. there weren't really "in between" emotions. now, i'm able to keep myself grounded. if something amazing happens, i can keep myself from remaining level, from not getting my hopes to high about something, and to stay cautious. when i get upset about something, i can still remember how good my life is and that things are going to turn out ok. nothing is the end of the world. even confusion blatantly opposite of how it used to. it's positive, now. when i would be utterly confused about a situation before, i always expected the worst. "i can't figure out the outcome, but this is the worst that could happen...and it probably will." and it usually did, because those were the thoughts i put in my head and i was subconsciously controlling that situation. now there are things i'm confused about and i find myself doing the exact opposite. "i don't know what's going to happen here, but if it went this way, it would be awesome. and this would be great... and i guess the worst possible outcome is this, but that seems rather unlikely." life's a little more fun when you're not expecting everything to fail. ok, a lot more fun. expecting everything to fail pretty much makes life suck. but at the same time, i can keep myself level enough to know that, if the worst possible outcome is what happens, then that's what's going to happen. and i'll deal with it, and life goes on.
i think learning to keep myself level was one of the most important lessons i could have ever learned. i wish that was something i had picked up a long time ago. but i guess i wasn't supposed to. and it doesn't really matter anymore, as long as i'm able to do that, now.
i was supposed to clean today. but i was also supposed to sleep for more than an hour last night and be up and ready to get things done by 9:30a. shit happens.
one last thing... i can't believe i came upon this quote in my book. i mean, i guess i can, because this is what the book's about. but i've been complaining about this unbearable feeling for as long as i can remember. and i know that no one could understand what i meant by saying that i felt that no amount of clothes could keep me warm any longer. it felt like the cold had made it's way down to my actual skeleton. but marya explains it in such a perfect way:
I'd read somewhere that if you made yourself a snow cave you could keep warm, the snow itself would keep out the cold of the snow, and I was so incredibly tired, willing my legs to keep walking. We were having a family outing and I didn't want to ruin it but I was so fucking cold. I wish I could find words to explain what this kind of cold is like- the cold that has somehow gotten in underneath your skin and is getting colder and colder inside you. It isn't an outside sort of cold; it's a cold that gets into your bones and into your blood and it feels like your heart itself is beating out the cold in hard bursts through your entire body, and you suddenly remember that you have a body because you can't ignore it anymore. You feel like an ice cube.
and that is why, when you hear me say i'm not cold anymore... it's not that it's nice outside. it's not that i have a warm enough coat on. for me to say i'm warm is a mind-blowing thing for me. this is how i know i'm ok.