I’m not so numb.
Why was numbing was necessary? Because it worked.
Why is it now not so necessary? I’m guessing, because it’s not.
About a week ago, I spontaneously started to shed the need to numb. I had a pleasant conversation with myself about this habit but I didn’t set out to change it. It just did. Or, is doing. Happening. Anyway, I’m assuming that the fall-out is detox.
Detox = that totally fucked state of being where you are stuck between destruction and less destruction. Where you kind of wish you could be destructive again but don’t know how to get back there. Where you start scouting around for substitute destruction but nothing quite fits the bill. Sigh.
It didn’t start out like this. My initial decrease in numbness played out as an increase in my desire to show up and participate in my own life. Okay, that’s cool. It escalated to irritability, hypersensitivity and being generally critical of everyone thus making me a joy to be around. Not so cool.
There is a lot of white noise and fidgeting involved in full-blown detox. If you put your ear next to mine, you can hear the ocean. There are people drowning in it, but it’s still the ocean. The shrieking is seagulls. And me.
Oh and the aforementioned fidgeting? Joy. Yeah. Fidgeting as in tapping my fingers so hard and fast on the desk that the tips start to get numb – which is when I notice that I’ve been tapping.
My greatest fear is that this state of detox is my new state of being. I can endure anything this horrid if it’s temporary. Luckily, I have a best friend who told me that it is temporary and I believed her. Because it’s better than not believing her.
I know! I’ll distract myself by getting in the car to drive around and do errands. Yes, that’s so smart, Susan. Get behind the wheel of a massive chunk of metal filled with gas (as soon as I go get gas) and aim it at things. And fidget. Brilliant.
Poking fun at myself works. A much better choice.