10 Things in 10 Days Meme
Jan. 6th, 2011 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tehutiDay One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people right now.
Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn-offs.
Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.
Last one, folks. Which means I completed this meme. We will overlook the fact that it took me more than ten days to do so, however. It's the holidays, and I'm busy. That's all I got...
I've been living with this for a long time now, what I'm about to say. I hinted at it a bit in an earlier entry for this meme. I've been so conflicted I wasn't able to talk about it at all until just this week.
My dad's death really fucked me up. Badly.
I've been afraid of death and dying for as long as I can remember. Really, truly afraid. I've often remarked that it is the only thing I am really afraid of. Everything about it is terrifying to me. Part of the reason I have been both an EMT and a CNA was to face this fear directly. It didn't help. As an medic, I never saw anything more serious that a severely sprained ankle. My career as a CNA was cut short in part because I got too close to some of my patients, and when they died it messed with my head.
Since my father's passing, I've gotten much, much worse.
My first thought almost every day is, "I wonder if this is the last day of my life?", and my last thought every night is, "One day closer to death." I've spent my whole life learning how to control my brain, as a magickian, a pagan and a person with ADD. I cannot make it stop this time, cannot control my thoughts. Some nights it's so bad I can't fall asleep until I am completely exhausted, and on far too many nights, I've seen the beginnings of false dawn before sleep finally claimed me. Thus far, I have largely resisted the urge to self-medicate.
I'm an idiot, and have been suffering alone. Stupid poly boy, I know. Especially since, by finally talking to Aimee about it, I made a connection that should have been obvious. People with ADD are really good at focusing on tasks, and the whole world disappears from their consciousness. Our ability to hyperfocus is a blessing and a curse. I've done some of my best work in that state, but trying to penetrate my awareness when I am doing so is a near herculean task. It's also a great coping mechanism for when you are trying not to think about something. Just hyperfocus in on something, anything, and the voices in your head go blessedly silent. So I've been hyperfocusing on a lot of things the last few months, to quiet my inner voices that are obsessed with death. But until I finally told her, and started talking, I didn't realize why I was doing what I've been doing.
So that is my confession. My brain is broken, in a way I cannot seem to control or fix. And now my secret is out. I feel shameful about it. First and foremost, I feel shameful because I cannot get a handle on my brain. I'm not used to that, and I really really don't like it. Also, I know better than to keep it to myself. I've got a lot of loving people in my life, and I've been too stupid to reach out to them for help. Third, I briefly saw a shrink for this, who tried to teach me self-hypnosis as a sleeping tool. He wasn't teaching me anything new. Didn't work anyway, then or now. I should have tried switching to someone else, but I let life get in the way. Again, I know better, and screwed it up anyway. Last, it's not like there's anything I can do about it, right? I've tried to logic my way through this fear, and have failed every time. So please, do not comment here with ways and ideas about how to change my thinking. I'm open to such conversations, but not on this post. These are the sorts of things that are best discussed in person. With lots and lots of booze. Or cuddles. Take your pick.
Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn-offs.
Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.
Last one, folks. Which means I completed this meme. We will overlook the fact that it took me more than ten days to do so, however. It's the holidays, and I'm busy. That's all I got...
I've been living with this for a long time now, what I'm about to say. I hinted at it a bit in an earlier entry for this meme. I've been so conflicted I wasn't able to talk about it at all until just this week.
My dad's death really fucked me up. Badly.
I've been afraid of death and dying for as long as I can remember. Really, truly afraid. I've often remarked that it is the only thing I am really afraid of. Everything about it is terrifying to me. Part of the reason I have been both an EMT and a CNA was to face this fear directly. It didn't help. As an medic, I never saw anything more serious that a severely sprained ankle. My career as a CNA was cut short in part because I got too close to some of my patients, and when they died it messed with my head.
Since my father's passing, I've gotten much, much worse.
My first thought almost every day is, "I wonder if this is the last day of my life?", and my last thought every night is, "One day closer to death." I've spent my whole life learning how to control my brain, as a magickian, a pagan and a person with ADD. I cannot make it stop this time, cannot control my thoughts. Some nights it's so bad I can't fall asleep until I am completely exhausted, and on far too many nights, I've seen the beginnings of false dawn before sleep finally claimed me. Thus far, I have largely resisted the urge to self-medicate.
I'm an idiot, and have been suffering alone. Stupid poly boy, I know. Especially since, by finally talking to Aimee about it, I made a connection that should have been obvious. People with ADD are really good at focusing on tasks, and the whole world disappears from their consciousness. Our ability to hyperfocus is a blessing and a curse. I've done some of my best work in that state, but trying to penetrate my awareness when I am doing so is a near herculean task. It's also a great coping mechanism for when you are trying not to think about something. Just hyperfocus in on something, anything, and the voices in your head go blessedly silent. So I've been hyperfocusing on a lot of things the last few months, to quiet my inner voices that are obsessed with death. But until I finally told her, and started talking, I didn't realize why I was doing what I've been doing.
So that is my confession. My brain is broken, in a way I cannot seem to control or fix. And now my secret is out. I feel shameful about it. First and foremost, I feel shameful because I cannot get a handle on my brain. I'm not used to that, and I really really don't like it. Also, I know better than to keep it to myself. I've got a lot of loving people in my life, and I've been too stupid to reach out to them for help. Third, I briefly saw a shrink for this, who tried to teach me self-hypnosis as a sleeping tool. He wasn't teaching me anything new. Didn't work anyway, then or now. I should have tried switching to someone else, but I let life get in the way. Again, I know better, and screwed it up anyway. Last, it's not like there's anything I can do about it, right? I've tried to logic my way through this fear, and have failed every time. So please, do not comment here with ways and ideas about how to change my thinking. I'm open to such conversations, but not on this post. These are the sorts of things that are best discussed in person. With lots and lots of booze. Or cuddles. Take your pick.
