self gaslighting

I can hear voices/parts I've repressed when I take Adderall. Is it the Adderall itself? I don't think so. I think it's what Adderall makes me think is possible and what my trauma's experience with those hopes have been in the past. For metaphorical purposes, “I" have been in a full body cast most of my life. Or at least it became that way over time. Mental movement and potential frozen as I have sought for understanding, belonging, safety, refuge of some kind and have been disappointed on multiple fronts, my brain deciding that we won't ever try THAT again. But sure enough, I try again. I always do. I think it's this most recent internal development that is unique in that way. A part of me is starting to see how exhausted I am by trying to find safety that I have never seen exactly why I am unsafe. And lately, I have been expecting less of myself… at least outwardly. I stopped going to Zumba. I'm not dating anyone new. I'm not forcing myself to do things I've forced myself to do in the past because I suddenly see that although the desired behavior isn't bad, it's the emotional energy that tries to propel me towards that behavior that is the cause of suffering. I try. I try to make healthier choices but it's because I am profoundly existentially terrified and aging feels like the slowest form of torture. Just kill me already than to have to watch myself age and lose vitality, not that I ever had it. Well, anyways, suffice it to say that I have been scared for a long time whilst also feeling the walls in my internal world close in around me. It's been hell. Oh and having to keep it to myself and also think all the while that I am insane because no one else seems to be talking about experiencing this and no one seems to notice, care, or really seem to understand. I haven't felt human. In fact, I believe that is one of my deepest, earliest wounds. To feel like a human in disguise. It's not that I chose a disguise. It's just that this context and story I've been living in have never really made sense to me but I was too scared to tell anyone. Religious trauma certainly played its part. I have some more ideas but I don't know if I'll ever truly know who I was and who I became. I might have to settle for just trying to Be who I can connect with now. I don't know what else to say other than I know that I have never felt like I make sense, that I am welcome, that I am safe, that I can let go, and ground into the belonging I have in my family, my community, my species, my planet, my universe. Our universe. I've felt this knowing from a young age and it caused so much dissonance with what I was being taught by religion and culture. They told me who I was, what was wrong with me, and how I should change. And I felt the resistance. Not by educating myself on it, but I already intuitively knew that they don't get to tell me who I am and who I should be and why the hell are they getting away with this? But the trauma of having your personal collective globally disagree with your experience of reality is, now I know, a trauma that is profoundly deep and disturbing and it is one I am waking up from.

Back to Adderall.

Adderall has been triggering. How it makes me feel frightens me. What it makes me think … what I hope for… the voices of my past that are resurrected because they believe their interest might finally be satisfied with this renewed focus, motivation, and kinetic energy of the mind. Major questions arise, too. Like, if I feel so profoundly different and can behave in better alignment to my goals, then who was I? And who am I now? Plus, there are those parts I mentioned who are awakened with the hope of possibility. The possibility of real change. Instead of this cycle of attempting to change but being frustrated by the blocks in my own mind, and blaming myself, and believing even more deeply that I am crazy and wounded beyond repair. That I will never be sane enough to be who I want to be, let alone admit to myself who I want to be. But Adderall wakes them up. What do they want? They want to not feel like we are in a war zone in the most objectively safe situation and relationships. They want to eat food that it knows is good for my internal system. They want to have a healthier weight. They want to feel proud of our ability to choose ourself and health over fear. They want to be proud of my human body. Proud of the miracle that it is that it exists at all and that it's as complicated and brilliant as it is. But also proud of its beautiful shape. I've been told Health at Every Size and All Bodies Are Sexy. That has never worked for me. Why? Because I am playing an active role in hurting my body every single day. How am I supposed to sit here and giggle and say, well, health at every size! I accept me here now. How could I? I've been killing myself with my coping mechanisms for a long time. Exaggeration but I'm just saying. And the part of me that seeks wholeness has been crying out beneath this compulsive behavior, “please stop!!!!!! We are going to lose so much!!!” But I couldn't stop. It was all I had to know how to survive. This whole time I thought I was broken but really I am just preoccupied. Preoccupied trying to keep my reality pulled together.

I want to lose weight, yeah. I want to feel more comfortable in my body and I want to be able to tolerate being aware of it. Yesterday I understood why things like yoga are so triggering. I watch myself do it from the outside. And I see my body. And I know that it doesn't look right. And getting into those positions exacerbates that perception. And when I feel pain in a stretch, imbalance, or weakness, all I hear is this loud voice saying that I am losing my battle. That this is all pointless because I am always going to hurt myself and I can't stop. The pain in my body tells me so. The hatred of my shape tells me so. The humiliation I feel doing some of those poses is more than enough for me to never want to do it again. Yoga reminds me I have a body and that I haven't been able to care for it and I know it. Holding those long poses, I feel these voices of urgency, like, don't we have something better to do? This is taking too long. I like fast tasks. Not tasks that invite you to slow down and be rested in the moment. I had completely lost my ability to rest in a moment. My mind is always racing with negative thoughts and fears that I have not acknowledged until recently. Including the most popular belief that I am crazy and broken. And you better believe those thoughts are profoundly distracting and make it hard to focus (ADHD anyone?).

Will the power and momentum of Adderall also impact the non Adderall'd me? I feel like I'm leaving someone behind when I use it.

I also noticed that infamous character in my mind, the Coked Up Manager, with ease merged into front and center of the command module now that we are stimulated. Alright, now we can get stuff DONE! Without the distractions of thought, noise, fear, the body, or feelings. But in the last few days of processing how this feels, I realize that that is how I have used this drug in the past. It just goes straight to my inner manager. And so you can take Adderall and it can fuel your wounded parts. Adderall doesn't cure everything. It doesn't decide where the attention and focus go. There is still a lot of “effort" expected of me in this. Adderall is a tool. It's a tool for me to use my wisest parts to distribute among my internal system. And so I sit here and hear my inner manager talking about how we are going to be perfect now. We are going to take our meds consistently. We are going to eat 3 meals a day. We won't feel like a slave to candy. We will lose weight. We will find exercise we like and we will stick with it. And we will follow all the ideas we have. But I have a lot of ideas. My mind is very active. And it's also been trained to be hyper vigilant. I am used to experiencing the world in terms of How Scary and What Kind of Scary Is It. Bringing that lens with me in this Adderall journey is just going to fuel that wounded part and of course I am going to think Adderall is making things worse. There is still prioritizing. There is still negotiating. There is still intuition. There is still need. There is still softness. There is still rest. Why haven't I thought about how to use Adderall to rest? I've thought that Adderall was the world's way of getting distracted people productive again, and therefore, valuable to society and to feeding the capitalistic machine. That's why I've resisted. I don't want to force my mind to change to conform to my community's expectations of me anymore. Done that. But now I am more aware of how this impacts Me. Me. I can't exercise. I don't feel safe in my relationships. I can't create. I'm anxious when I do the one thing I can do, which is plan and organize. I struggle to know how I feel. I'm scared to share my truth. Nowhere is safe. And I think it's all related. Maybe I take Adderall for me. And maybe I stay present and manage the resources it gives me instead of handing things off to the manager inside of me. There is still awakening to Self with Adderall. It doesn't need to make me a Super Person, bypassing all the pithy human limitations I've been struggling with. Like I said, maybe it's a tool for healing my trauma. Maybe I can manage being aware of those wounds in my mind a little longer with Adderall. Maybe being present with those wounds will help me awaken to myself even more. And maybe then I'll find more freedom within myself to Be from a place of Being instead of whatever can squeak through the fog.

I like where this is going. Maybe there's a psychological situating period I need to go through. I think I am scared of experiencing myself, of reality, and varied experiences of reality. I think that's why I was so scared to try cannabis and psilocybin. And the altered experience I have with Adderall brings a similar memory of fear of the internal unknown. Who is this on Adderall? And what do I do with all these voices popping up whose messages are more solid and clear than they'd ever been in the past? I still remember that feeling after doing shrooms for the first time. What the HELL was that and why do I feel super insane right now? It's been a really stressful experience to have my internal frame of reference shift over these two and a half years. I've wanted to die so much. But I couldn't do it. Who knows why. I don't think it was a choice. I just didn't. Probably because I didn't feel confident enough in knowing I really wanted to die because I certainly didn't feel comfortable enough in knowing any of my other feelings. So how could I trust myself that I wanted to die? Ha.

My storyteller seems to be pooped. More later.