Safety Zone

With all this junk that I’ve been dealing with lately, the concept of creating safety for yourself, and resting yourself, has come up a few times in the comments.

This is something I struggle with.

There was a time, a couple years ago, when I was struggling with a deep, deep depression, and I would spend whole days just writing in my journal, hiding in my room, and just sitting with the revelations as they came, and crying intermittently. But at that point, I’d dropped out of school, and had absolutely no other obligations except doctors appointments. So I could do that, and not feel guilty.

This time though, I’m afraid of going back to that space. I’m afraid of feeling all that stuff again. I have these revelations, and insights, and realizations, and then I go off to work, to hide from it all. I tell myself that I have work that needs to be done, and run away to hide myself in it.

I hide on the internet, in other people’s blogs, in other people’s words. It’s easier that way. I’m not even sure what I’m accomplishing half the time, but I tell myself it’s work. I avoid my easel like the devil, so I don’t have to be alone with myself.

I’m afraid of what might happen if I am. I’m afraid that I’ll break down. I’m afraid that I’ll venture back into that darkness, and this time, never make my way out. Because I can feel the pain down there, and it really, really wants to be heard.

And I’m worried it might drown me.

So I’m currently opting for numbness. Which I know isn’t really the best way out. It’s the easiest way out.

Which brings me back to creating safety for myself. I’m older now, and wiser, and equipped with more tools. I’ve got meditation and calming techniques to bring myself back. I know to dance around my pain, instead of letting it overwhelm me. I understand that I don’t need to dive right in.

But it’s one thing understanding and knowing all these new, helpful skills, and a completely different matter altogether of being able to use them “in the field” as it were.

Completely. Freaking. Different.

And that’s what scares me. That when I re-engage with that pain, and start to talk to it, that all this new found wisdom may just fly out the window. And I’ll suddenly be a scared 18 year old again, trying to deal with issues that are way over her head.

So right now, tiny little doses of coping is all I can handle. Being numb means safety for me. And as I test the waters, and put my toes in one by one, I may find that I am, in fact, able to handle the pain without drowning. And that I am able to rest, and create a place that is safe for me.

I’m not even sure what safety would look like. Blankets. Napping. Large cups of tea and chocolate. Warm milk. Hot cocoa. Books that I love. Candles, and single, yellow lamps in dark rooms. Doodling whatever I wish. Even painting, although I avoid it now. The ability to cry, alone, without having to explain my pain to anyone. Often times, the pain is wordless. It’s just there, dark and waiting, crying out to be heard.

I’m afraid that once I start listening, I won’t be able to stop.

I have a lot of fear about dealing with this stuff again. I came very close to not making it out last time. I came very close to killing myself, for lack of any other options. I do not want to be back in that place.

So for now, I’m playing the avoidance game. I won’t forever. But I need to feel comfortable enough with listening to this pain that I don’t lose it straight away, and run for the hills. I’ll keep dipping my toes in,  a day at a time. And soon I’ll find that the fear is gone, or at least very small. And I’ll be able to talk to my pain, without having to relive it.

Just gotta expand my comfort zone first. So I guess, in a roundabout way, what I’m doing is my own safety zone. Different from the expected one perhaps, but it’s one that works for me.

Tags: dancing around the pain, depression, healing, Healing Emotional Wounds, pain, safety zone