Too little, too much

There is a golden middle, of course, but it's unknown to me. Since the advent of my abuse at age 5, my body has been living in the constant state of stress. Stress from fear, pain, inappropriate sexual stimulation, shame, guilt, anger. My adrenal glands constantly threw a dose of alertness at my body, saying, run, run as fast as you can! Don't sleep, you might get eaten or killed! Don't stop - if you're too slow, you'll be caught! Do everything fast - tomorrow you might be dead! Go, go, go!! My immune system was suppressed by this surge of chemicals, and I didn't feel much pain or pleasure or anything - all feelings were effectively blocked. So that I could survive. And I did.

Now, 20 years later, I still run at break-neck speed, by virtue of habit. My body is used to producing an insane amount of chemicals to keep me going, no coffee needed. Because I am in final healing stages, all of this bent up energy is now loose, streaming out and away. I could barely sleep 4 hours a night for the past several weeks, my eyes close now as I type this. But as soon as I'll lay down, I'll jump up again. On top of that, my hormones are kicking their way up as well, being released after years of suppression. My testosterone boils out to raw desire that keeps me awake no matter how hard I try to concentrate on something else. Even when my brain is already tired, the body still wants more. I could shut it down only with a tranquilizer, since no attemps to quiet it down naturally has helped so far. Or it did, but only for a couple hours. Imagine you're walking around high on drugs - except the drugs are your own chemicals, except the drugs make you want sex, except the drugs are unpredictable - you never know what dosage you took. I wish I had a button, an off switch, a balancing out lever - to position myself against the wall and level out. Just like that, by stretching the arms to the sides, by straightening the back, by looking ahead. It's so difficult to fight - this idea. It would be so easy to do, why do I have to go through trials and errors, why do I have to operate among real people, hurting them, or pleasing them, or leaving them indifferent, brushing past them, meeting, leaving, exciting, disappointing. I'd much rather trained on fakes. 

I want something, and it seems I have too little. I want more I get more, and then it's too much. I;m overwhelmed, exhausted, and hurt. I shrink to the "wanting little" idea, try it out, and the cycle repeats. My emotions swing from up to down several times within one hour. A moment ago in ecstasy, I'd be sulking in the corner, thinking my life is over and what I'd done was irreparable and I'll never ever fix it. I've broken myself, I've broken other people, my body, their bodies. Next day all seems normal again, until the wave of hormones hits me again, and the roller coaster starts all over again. My doctor says, my body is getting rid of help up sexual energy in layers. One layer off, then another, then another. I'm not sure I buy into this game anymore, I want it all off in one go! It's exhausting enough swinging back and forth like a maniac, wanting more one moment, wanting less another. Why does it work like this? Why do I have no patience to deal with this? How much longer do I have to suffer to stabilize? Should I have chosen a nice suppressed stable life? Not remembering anything? Nice and quiet? Proper? Never regretting anything? 

Impossible. I've tasted freedom, I rolled in happiness, it smells like honeysuckle on a warm summer afternoon. Nothing is more glorious than that feeling, than that moment. I know I can have more of them, I know I have to battle through my own impatience to get there, to trust that all can be as I want. All can strike a golden middle, if I want to. And if it doesn't, it's ok for it to spill at the edges - one way, or another, too little, too much. It's emotional, I feel it. I'm happy that I feel. It hurts to be smack in the middle of feeling all of a sudden, feeling naked and raw, and yet I'm feeling. I'm not suppressing, I guess there is a simple word for it all - being alive. I'm alive after being buried under years of internalized pain, though smooth and composed on the surface, always torn and bleeding on the inside. I'm alive despite being close to taking my life. I'm alive. I live. I want more. All of it - too little, too much, or in the middle. All in its own time. Slowly. With patience. To savor.

Photo by Yewenyi.

Comments

[Maribeth Curry]

hi,
i just found you through some abuse survivors on fb...
Just wanted to let you know that there are endocrine modulators out there if you're interested.
I use both and they help me a lot- have enabled me to finally sleep- evened out my moods etc-
If you want more info let me know at bcurry@sympatico.ca
bless you- I do know what you feel like- tho at the moment, I'm now in a better space hormone wise.
Bless you,
Maribeth

[Ksenia Oustiougova]

Maribeth,

thank you! I would love to know more, actually, I'll e-mail you to ask. Each time I write, I think there is only me with this type of a problem, and each time there is someone who tells me, there are many of us, and we all have been through this. I'm always amazed at this.

Ksenia