Depression & Emotional Flashbacks

I am feeling so depressed. It’s lasting for days and days, and feels like a worse depression than I have had for a very long time.

Desperately sad. Desperately lonely. Feeling like I am absolutely alone, that no one truly cares for me, even though I KNOW that is not true now.

The feelings weigh me down, I can’t get out of bed. Even though I know I need to get up and get some things done, I still lie there huddled under the blankets feeling the pain that weighs me down. I feel so heavy. Nothing moves. I take a few deep breaths but I don’t feel it. I just feel weighted down.

It’s Christmas and we are alone, just hubby, the cat, and me. I’m glad it’s just us, I didn’t have the extra stress of having to deep clean the entire house, put away all my creative messes, make up beds for overnight guests, shop for snacks and groceries, bake treats, plan and cook and serve and clean up the huge traditional meals, or entertain people for several days and nights.

Instead, we FaceTime with family, open presents together online, and enjoy the looks on the kids’ faces as they tear through the paper. I smile and laugh and I’m grateful to be sharing this time with them, but the depression sits heavily on my body anyway.

I can’t feel my body. I am only a thinker these days, not a feeler.

Why Am I Feeling This Way?

I read an article today about CPTSD. Is that what I have? It feels like it, but I don’t know how to get a professional diagnosis of that. It doesn’t actually exist on the DSM-5 so maybe it doesn’t matter. But that description fits so much of what happens to me.

Here is a good C-PTSD resource if you want to know more.

Emotional Flashback

A phrase jumps out at me – emotional flashback. I sit back. I have heard of flashbacks, I have experienced flashbacks. The last one happened in the dentist’s chair when the tools used to forcibly push and hold my tongue out of the way felt like something else being shoved into my mouth, something bad from my childhood. That flashback was a bad one. My tongue and jaw were sore for several days, exhausted from fighting for breath as I tried to keep from choking.

But emotional flashback? That’s a new one. I am still learning to feel my emotions, how could I have an emotional flashback?

Using My Tools

It’s not easy to remember to use my tools every day. At one point I thought that it would just be something I need to do for a short time, and then I’d never need them again. Hah.

If I use at least some of my tools every day, I am able to maintain a certain level of regulation. But it’s easy to let one small thing drop, and then another, and then another. Each time I am triggered by something I have to consciously make the choice to use my tools to tune up quickly, or wait until it snowballs into a big problem.

I didn’t do my tune-ups with the triggers in November. There were several of varying degrees. I dropped my simple, quick, daily tools one by one. And the dysregulation ramped up from mild anxiety to extreme anxiety, right into total shutdown.

Getting a bit of information, a flash from my intuition that I am on the right track, opens a doorway. Now that I have an opening I can do something about it. I try to think of the tools I can use – physical movement, nope – too hard. I can hardly get out of bed these days. Journaling, nope – I can’t get access to my deeper thoughts right now. It hurts too much to write about anything right now. Meditation maybe? Yes. I can do that.

Meditation

I turn on a meditation on the Calm app, search for a depression meditation. I settle into my chair, cuddled in a quilt. I follow the meditation instructions and start to check in with my body. I am shocked at how activated my body is! I had no idea. I didn’t realize that I had shut down my connection to my body so completely. I thought I was “just depressed”.

Now I begin to feel the jittery sensations under my skin. My belly is hard. It hurts. My arms and legs feel frozen. My chest is tight. Tears are near the surface but they are locked up tight. I feel the wonder of my body.

I slowly start to release the sensations in my body, breathing into the spaces that are in lockdown. In – aware. Out – release. My breath catches. I keep going. My breath starts to move faster, gulping breaths of air and forcing the air back out as it carries the feelings with it.

This feels significant, but if someone were watching me they would see nothing at all.

What Triggered Me THIS Time?

These feelings I am clearing are so old. Memories of how I felt as a child at Christmas. The hope, the anticipation, the excitement. Maybe THIS year would be different. Maybe THIS year dad would stay sober. Maybe THIS year mom would not be angry and critical and stressed with all the lists of things that need to be done. Maybe THIS year no one would hate me. Maybe THIS year they would be kind to me.

And then the desperate sadness when it was the same as last year.

The anger, the sadness, the despair, I felt it all. I think I felt what the others felt too. Is it possible that I felt that much all on my own? It feels bigger than what one small child could feel.

Still in the meditation, I hear the instructions but I can’t follow them. It’s more important to follow my own lead. I need to reach out to the child I once was. She comes to me easily and I soothe her, tell her I love her, tell her she is safe and it’s ok to feel all these things. I tell her she can trust me. She disappears.

I gently call her back and she shows me one eye and one ear. I tell her I understand that she doesn’t believe that and it’s ok. I tell her I think we need to go slowly and learn to know each other again. We can build trust a bit at a time. She tilts her head at me. I recognize that as a maybe. The hard knot in my stomach has loosened. So has the rest of my body. The jitteriness under my skin has slowed. The meditation has ended. I stay there, letting the thoughts run through my head. I want to know this little person better. I want to understand her. I want to see her dance again.

Who Was This Little One?

I didn’t always repress my emotions. I remember the child I was. I laughed freely, I cried freely, I spoke up easily. I asked for what I wanted and needed. I didn’t feel shame because I had needs. I didn’t feel shame for needing and wanting to be loved – all of that shame came later. I knew how I felt, I knew what I wanted. That child was a joy. That child lit up a room when she danced into it. That child was me, the way I was born to be.

Eventually I get up and go to bed. As I lie in bed I hear snippets of music. I think it is the little one asking me to play these songs. If I play these songs it will be a start to trusting again. I smile. She wants the Irish Rovers. Green alligators and rats and cats and elephants but no unicorn. The words are mixed up and I don’t remember them but I know the tune. And then Winkin, Blinkin and Nod. I don’t remember those words at all but the feel of the singer’s voice in my memory is soothing. Loving.

Unicorns and Silver Nets

Today I’m playing The Unicorn Song. Tears come easily. I’m still smiling as I remember how much I loved this song when I was small. I know where the unicorns went. The child I once was is still a unicorn. She ran away to play while the storms raged. But this little unicorn didn’t die. She is still very much alive, and still so magical. She will come back when I make it safe for her, when I am able to play and have fun with her again.

Now I’m playing Winkin, Blinkin and Nod. This is the song about where we went at night. The dreams sustained us – still do. The silver nets I cast in my sleep bring information to me, teach me what I need to know, show me what I need to see.

Back To The Daily Tools

I am not a child anymore. I can cast my silver nets at any time, tune in to my intuition to catch what I need to know next. I’m learning how to play like a unicorn again.

Emotional flashback. I think it is for real. I haven’t completely cleared this one, but I’m working on it. Now that I am aware of the existence of emotional flashbacks, I feel like I am prepared for the next one. I may not recognize it right away, but I will eventually and then I can put my tools to work to release its hold on me.

And today I am going back to my daily tools:

• Morning pages.
• Stretching, moving my body.
• Meditation.
• Pause.
• Breathe.
• Check in with my body.
• Check in with my emotions and feelings.
• Pay attention to my intuition.
• Pay attention to my thoughts.
• Be present in the moment.
• Make healthy food choices more often than not.
• Reach out and connect with people who care about me.
• Play the Gratitude Game.
• Be outside if it’s nice, find ways to connect with nature if it’s too cold outside.
• Be creative – bake, sew, draw, paint, colour, quilt, read, write, organize a space.

It’s a longer list than this, but those are the first ones to come to mind. If I used all of my tools every day, I would have no time for anything else. My minimum is to do my morning pages, stretch and move my body, and meditate each morning. If that takes me four hours and exhausts me to the point of not being able to do anything else for the rest of the day, that is ok.

Anything more than that is a bonus.