Making Decisions In Order To Settle Those Nerves

For well over a year, I’ve been battling an unrelenting case of nerves. I can’t seem to relax. When my life is so much improved and settled, it didn’t really make a lot of sense.

Except…

I had so much left to do before I could truly move on. Procrastination is the easiest way to avoid pain and so I’ve been giving in to it for years. The pressure mounted, though, behind the scenes, and I’ve finally arrived at the point where pushing myself to DO something is less painful than avoiding dealing with things.

And thus far it’s having a surprising effect.

Some days I can finally relax and even play a little. I feel like moving forward grants me some freedom to let go a little. On those days, I feel immensely grateful to the part of me that is showing some courage.

But, some days the nerves are just as bad as they ever were. I know it’s because facing my fears is not easy, and my subconscious is going nuts. The nightmares are evidence of that. At least those have stopped for now. I’m not going to give in to fear and procrastinate any longer. Even if I find myself losing my shit every now and again because fear tells me so strongly that dealing with other people who could hurt me is a threat I should avoid at all costs.

Adulting means some threats can’t be avoided. Evading taxes or dentists, no matter how much we hate dealing with them, have very grim results for instance! It can’t be helped, and it must be faced.

I have a calmer life and medications that can help me make it through all these things. Finding a therapist who I can be HONEST with about the actual traumas of my past, including the abductions by both something Other and perhaps some quasi-military types, is a huge thing. My entire life has been dominated by something I can’t evade and can barely remember! Yet it has impacted my life in countless ways.

This is going to be a very hard year though. I’m investing in hope for much better years in the future, but I’m not looking forward to doing the work on this. In my IFS inner-work, the children are all sobbing in rooms or hiding in tiny attics  or cupboards.

I’m scared. From the inner depths of my being I’m fucking scared.

But I’m more tired of the death by a thousand cuts brand of torture procrastination has brought me thus far than I am of not pushing through.

I hate myself for waiting this long.

I hate myself for not waiting even longer.

That feeling of having no way out but through is a distinctly horrible one.