Today, I began my day getting triggered by my 6 year old son. I keep getting startled by him while I am sleeping in the morning, which then causes me to release all my fight or flight hormones in my body, and then I feel stressed and crappy at the beginning of my day.
Fortunately, it only happens while I am sleeping.
After getting startled awake, I then went to my neurofeedback appointment, which is a good place to go when you are feeling that way because they can help me bring my body back down to calm.
After calming my body, I then did another neurofeedback protocol I have been working with the last few weeks called “deep states.” I like this deep states work because it feels like you are dreaming while you are awake, and it helps you get in touch with your unconscious mind.
It is not like I go and my mind just accesses all my unconscious memories, but it does help me get a smidge more each time I do it.
Today, I processed a lot of familiar memories while in this deep state, and then I started having new memories that were upsetting to say the least.
I want to not believe these new memories from today, but even after I left I had the weirdest experience of having more and more memories involving the same person. It is like my brain would not stop downloading information into my awareness until there was no more room and I was utterly exhausted.
For better or worse, I had therapy today after neurofeedback.
In therapy, I was overwhelmed and felt suicidal. I had this feeling of impending doom because with these new memories comes the idea that I am not who I think I am.
My therapist thinks it is nonsense (my summation of what she said) that I am not who I think I am, but I don’t agree.
My identity today is based on beliefs I have about my life. It turns out my beliefs are wrong.
I built the foundation of my identity on the belief that my father loved me. No one else in my family did, but I thought my father did. I was wrong.
I have gone from believing I came from a family where one person cared about me, to understanding that I really came from a family where I did not matter to anyone, and was only in this family for their sick needs.
It makes sense now. When my father was dying, and I was sitting there with him everyday, he looked at me with pity, not love. He told others he loved them, but not me.
My false picture and selective memory of my father helped me create who I am. Since that is now known to be false, I am nothing but the garbage they believed I was.
I know I can get through this and define myself, but at the moment it doesn’t seem possible. The building blocks that make up my life are not what I thought.
I know some people might think I am dense for not realizing my missing childhood memories are going to make me feel horrible. But, I already know of horrific things that have happened to me. My childhood is already unbelievably horrible.
How can it be worse? I guess I answered my own question.