In college, way before I moved to the land of lizards, I had two geckos. One was a badass leopard gecko that had all these awesome hues of purple spots. She was chill, you could hold her, rub her belly and do all those geckoy things. I decided to get it a buddy. So I got one of those standard green ones, nothing special but the dude was not chill. When I was cleaning out the cage, the green spaz got out and ran up the wall. When I went to grab it, the tail legit came off instantly. I grabbed the tailless gecko and got him back in the cage. As the bile rose from inside, I noticed the loner tail on the table next to our bong, moving, throbbing, swaying. The green spaz was totally fine and thriving and in a few short weeks, the nub became a long tail once again.
That mother fucker was a self-healer.
Anxiety, past trauma, laziness, ADHD, and whatever the fuck you want to add to the mix have led me to dissociation. And perhaps I should have acknowledged this before my second marriage. Because it’s fucking bad.
My mind tends to get overloaded, the racing thoughts, the “what ifs”, the “I should have handled it differently’s”, it doesn’t stop. As I get older and have more interactions and experiences, more piles on. My memory isn’t what it used to be, so all I have are these thoughts, on a constant loop. The minute my now husband expresses an opinion or feeling I don’t agree with my mind goes straight to downtown Dissociation City. I’m not proud of it.
The only way I’ve ever been able to self-heal is to isolate. And it’s probably not the most healthy way, but I do enjoy a good binge-n-bed. I’m talking a minimum of 8-9 episodes or a full day of Law and Order (SVU only) reruns. Must be in bed. Must be alone. And to be honest, it usually does the trick. To me, it’s like taking that long shower where you fully wash your hair, shave your legs while you deep condition kinda shower.
But being in a relatively new relationship this late in life doesn’t necessarily allow for any alone time. And I gotta be honest, I get a little resentful about it, and that adds to the loop.
So what are some healthy ways to self-heal? Do people do that as a couple? My husband and I do yoga a few times a week together. Although I have been quite vocal about not wanting to be next to him, it doesn’t help. What are some good communication tactics that alleviate the mental ocean that leads to dissociation the next time my husband asks “Babe, are you even paying attention to me”?
I’m not discussing,
I’m asking.
disbih is discovering.