Over the time I have spent in the TC, my temper has calmed some. It is not the case that my emotional responses have lessened in intensity: intensity of emotional experience is part of who I am. Not being able to cope with that level of intensity, and being rejected (sometimes viciously) by people whom I tried to lean upon for support with it, leading to more distress on my part, made life unbearable, pre-therapeutic community.
Now, instead of chiding, and despising, and deriding myself, my emotional experience (because it is pathetic and silly to feel so strongly about such trivial stuff) I have learnt to acknowledge the emotion for what it is, and accept that (for whatever, even unknown reason) that is the way that I feel right now. Trying to force the door shut on the way I feel, is just going to make the gale-force of feeling more likely to blow the door down with intent.
My move to Scotland is not going smoothly. Objectively, this is the farthest distance I have ever permanently moved house in my life. Objectively, more has gone wrong with arrangements for this move than with any other. Objectively, I have more stressful things going on at the same time as moving, than at any other moving house time in the past.
When a bank that will remain nameless refused to print a bank statement for me, when I needed proof of address (I have paperless banking) because printing a statement is not a service they provide, I had had enough. Maybe I am being unreasonable. But I think that not meeting that simple request is ridiculous. I turned and left without saying a word.
I am trying to be kind to myself when I feel frustrated and overwhelmed, and tired and low and tearful. To see the emotional response as understandable. I came off my medication entirely, earlier this week. These are the effects. It is understandable to feel this way, even without the pharmaceutical underpinning, given all that is going on right now.
As I spent time trying to source proof of address, the tasks I am meant to be doing, for work, were mounting. I am struggling to see how I am supposed to meet all the deadlines I should be meeting; what possessed me to think I was capable of taking a lectureship, even a part-time one. What on Earth let me think that I am up to living alone, miles from most of my friends. I’m not good at making new friends. I am ridiculous.
These thoughts are borne of tiredness and low mood and overwhelm. But it is f***** hard to hold that in mind and to be kind and sensible. These past few weeks, I feel I can’t cope. And that feels ridiculous.