A Good Life

As I wrote once, life becomes a big project of coping with daily-basis problems if you have mental health issues. It's not easy, for it requires changing your mindset - which is an ongoing process with countless failures - and if you come from a toxic environment, e.g., a narcissistic family, like me, you need to undertake serious actions to protect your well-being, sometimes, even in legal aspects.

The most challenging task for me (and the most crucial at the same time) was to find out ways of fighting suicidal thoughts. How to find a reason for living? Where shall I search for my motivation? I was prepared that my resignation notions would never fade or go away. At least, I successfully fought delusions about it.

Sometimes, I just need to let go. Retreat. Give up. I do it because mental health is more important than anything else. Besides, these so 'important' things at that moment usually turn out to be a noisy background only.

Nevertheless, I had this one delusion that improving my accommodation would make me feel better mentally. So I did everything I could to provide myself all those basic things most people don't even think about as they are so obvious: home, good healthcare, nutritious food, proper clothes, vacation... I have even adopted a dog - my big child's dream - and befriended many friendly people. The list of things I delivered is imposing. Yet, at some point, I realized that my mental health was precisely where I started my journey. 

"Wow!" I thought to myself. "Just wow! Nothing has changed, so what's the point of all these efforts?"

Well, there is one. Very expensive psychotherapy taught me that struggling with severe trauma requires having good 'items' I can turn to so that I can rest for a moment before I start another battle. Without them, I am exposed to being re-traumatized. Ergo - I have one more broken Russian Doll to deal with.

The Russian Doll

It's trauma in trauma in another trauma that is hidden in yet another trauma. Getting the first wound or the root cause of your deplorable emotional state reminds you of excavating works ripping off layer after layer. 

The biggest problem is that you must include all these layers and address each one. 

I know everything started with the unsuccessful abortion my non-mother tried to execute on me. I survived it just as I survived a very traumatic birth and her post-partum craziness. However, this knowledge does not let me omit the following ordeal I was subjected to. Every part must be unpacked and treated as if I was taking care of the Russian doll containing many more miniature dolls. I only need to embrace the fact that all of them are broken. 

My current existence is far from imperfect, but my broken Russian dolls make it unbearable as they keep me frozen in the past. The paradox is the better the life, the stronger the trauma affects it. Why? Because my internal self knows this is the safe place and time to start healing.