I feel I should state that this is not a trigger for me, though my comment may make it seem otherwise.
This very much reminds me of the time when my approximately year long fog broke.
My mother had gotten a new boyfriend and she became very stuck on him for a while. I was neglected and ignored for him and punished by them both for my depression and failing grades, even though I warned them that I had been depressed but that I was dedicated now to getting better and getting my grades back up. And I was. I really and truly was. I was dealing with the fact that we had just moved, I had lost my home twice in just a few months, lived with her in a shelter, was forced to leave my friends and then just had to deal with a lot of shit, including dealing with my father sexual abusing me and I was just starting to really get affected by that, though she didn’t know that part… Anyways, I basically ended up getting everything taken away from me. For months, I wasn’t allowed out of my room except for school, the bathroom, and food. I wasn’t allowed to listed to music, watch tv, go online or talk to any of my old friends, new friends or even random people outside. I could barely talk to my father and when I could go over there on the weekends, it was a hassle with my mother and her boyfriend, (though her boyfriend did lighten up after a while on that one and the music thing) and while my grandfather was allowed to talk to me, he called me satanic behind my back and called me all sorts of nasty things.
During this time, I was in a fog. Everything was numbed out and dulled, like things were quieter and I couldn’t quite understand it all… I was on autopilot, locked in my own little fantasy world and occasionally I would sob hysterically and have a mental split and have to force myself in an out of body experience type of way force myself to put the blade down and go to sleep or think of something else or pick up a pen and write something instead.
Then the day came when my mother’s boyfriend (then her fiance) passed away…only he didn’t. He died. He had addiction problems and things were really bad for a long time for him. He basically destroyed his body. He had been getting better too, which sucked because he was becoming a more interesting and better person to be around, especially for me. We were not on good terms, of course, but they were much, MUCH better then they had been. And I had my music back, which was something nice he did for me.
But when he died, I knew hat my mother couldn’t keep up the neglect any more because she had to justify it to herself and she couldn’t do that any more. So I was safer then I had been. Yes, it was terrible in away, but it meant I could leave my room again. I could talk to my friends more often now and I was able to go for walks whenever I felt like it. I could blog, I could breath, I could watch the news…all of it was back again. And the fog lifted.
It was strange though and I actually wanted it back, in a away. Things were to loud, to bright. People, laughter, talking, smiling… Suddenly, the things I could do on autopilot I had to find a way to do on my own. Things I had said, promises I had made, they didn’t come flooding back but I couldn’t remember them anymore. Over a year of my life was gone and I could barely understand what I had done during it. I had friends that I only sort of knew, though they felt I knew them well. I had movies I vaguely remembered liking, loving even, that I couldn’t remember the plot of or even the names… Teachers liked me because I was the quiet kid who actually tried and yet, to this day, I barely remember any of their names. To boot, I had been bullied and yet, somehow, I had gotten them to leave me alone (until I came out as bi…that was fun though). It was all almost to much and I was jumping at everything and feeling to much… That blanket…that thick, wonderful blanket was gone now, pulled away and on the floor, crumpled up and thrown into the trash and now I had nothing to hide in and it scared me. It scared me so much and so badly that for a while I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t feel depression anymore and yet, I did. I really and truly did and I did not like it. Because going from doing anything to feel and feeling everything in the blink of an eye is to much…to much for anyone, technically.
And so, I used a different shield. Sarcasm became my friend, but my fight or flight was nearly dead. It’s not that I would fight physically, but I refused to flee. Anything that came up that was an attack upon me or these friends I barely knew had a snappy comeback and a “come hither so I can mentally destroy you and send you away crying without a single physical mark” look. But that was bad in a different way…because it was fueled by to many strong emotions, over compensating for being so dulled for so long.
Eventually though, I did even out, technically. It just took a very long time.
But as long as this comment is, in short, I understood this comic, almost to well, and I have to say thank you for posting it. Because while I already knew I was not “alone”, it was nice to have a visual of it. It was nice to see it and totally understand.
I feel I should state that this is not a trigger for me, though my comment may make it seem otherwise.
This very much reminds me of the time when my approximately year long fog broke.
My mother had gotten a new boyfriend and she became very stuck on him for a while. I was neglected and ignored for him and punished by them both for my depression and failing grades, even though I warned them that I had been depressed but that I was dedicated now to getting better and getting my grades back up. And I was. I really and truly was. I was dealing with the fact that we had just moved, I had lost my home twice in just a few months, lived with her in a shelter, was forced to leave my friends and then just had to deal with a lot of shit, including dealing with my father sexual abusing me and I was just starting to really get affected by that, though she didn’t know that part… Anyways, I basically ended up getting everything taken away from me. For months, I wasn’t allowed out of my room except for school, the bathroom, and food. I wasn’t allowed to listed to music, watch tv, go online or talk to any of my old friends, new friends or even random people outside. I could barely talk to my father and when I could go over there on the weekends, it was a hassle with my mother and her boyfriend, (though her boyfriend did lighten up after a while on that one and the music thing) and while my grandfather was allowed to talk to me, he called me satanic behind my back and called me all sorts of nasty things.
During this time, I was in a fog. Everything was numbed out and dulled, like things were quieter and I couldn’t quite understand it all… I was on autopilot, locked in my own little fantasy world and occasionally I would sob hysterically and have a mental split and have to force myself in an out of body experience type of way force myself to put the blade down and go to sleep or think of something else or pick up a pen and write something instead.
Then the day came when my mother’s boyfriend (then her fiance) passed away…only he didn’t. He died. He had addiction problems and things were really bad for a long time for him. He basically destroyed his body. He had been getting better too, which sucked because he was becoming a more interesting and better person to be around, especially for me. We were not on good terms, of course, but they were much, MUCH better then they had been. And I had my music back, which was something nice he did for me.
But when he died, I knew hat my mother couldn’t keep up the neglect any more because she had to justify it to herself and she couldn’t do that any more. So I was safer then I had been. Yes, it was terrible in away, but it meant I could leave my room again. I could talk to my friends more often now and I was able to go for walks whenever I felt like it. I could blog, I could breath, I could watch the news…all of it was back again. And the fog lifted.
It was strange though and I actually wanted it back, in a away. Things were to loud, to bright. People, laughter, talking, smiling… Suddenly, the things I could do on autopilot I had to find a way to do on my own. Things I had said, promises I had made, they didn’t come flooding back but I couldn’t remember them anymore. Over a year of my life was gone and I could barely understand what I had done during it. I had friends that I only sort of knew, though they felt I knew them well. I had movies I vaguely remembered liking, loving even, that I couldn’t remember the plot of or even the names… Teachers liked me because I was the quiet kid who actually tried and yet, to this day, I barely remember any of their names. To boot, I had been bullied and yet, somehow, I had gotten them to leave me alone (until I came out as bi…that was fun though). It was all almost to much and I was jumping at everything and feeling to much… That blanket…that thick, wonderful blanket was gone now, pulled away and on the floor, crumpled up and thrown into the trash and now I had nothing to hide in and it scared me. It scared me so much and so badly that for a while I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t feel depression anymore and yet, I did. I really and truly did and I did not like it. Because going from doing anything to feel and feeling everything in the blink of an eye is to much…to much for anyone, technically.
And so, I used a different shield. Sarcasm became my friend, but my fight or flight was nearly dead. It’s not that I would fight physically, but I refused to flee. Anything that came up that was an attack upon me or these friends I barely knew had a snappy comeback and a “come hither so I can mentally destroy you and send you away crying without a single physical mark” look. But that was bad in a different way…because it was fueled by to many strong emotions, over compensating for being so dulled for so long.
Eventually though, I did even out, technically. It just took a very long time.
But as long as this comment is, in short, I understood this comic, almost to well, and I have to say thank you for posting it. Because while I already knew I was not “alone”, it was nice to have a visual of it. It was nice to see it and totally understand.
With love and hugs,
~Clara
Sigh. It’s a misery blanket kind of day http://t.co/5d2cekZtuX
Sleeping with the sweater of the girl that I still love, every single night. I know this feeling