When I was a kid I had imagined a whole hidden world inside the massive gaseous giant, Jupiter. Beyond what our eyes and telemetry could sense, was a terrestrial planet where a whole population of natives lived. I loved the lore I built up around Jupiter and its moons Io, Ganymede, Callisto, and Europa (I can’t believe I still remember this). So when I was picking a user name for my online presence, I chose the name “Silent Jupiter”. One because to our knowledge, there is no life within Jupiter as its only gasses and no actual habitable soil. So it is in fact, probably quite silent in terms of life. But that’s not really why I chose that adjective. It was because I was used to being silent, voiceless.
I saw a meme the other day on a cptsd instagram account. It said, “Dear little me, I’m sorry you thought you had to be quiet and small. I want you to know it’s safe to use your voice now. Your voice matters.”
That it stirred something in me. Because, that’s exactly what it is. Why I have trouble speaking my actual thoughts especially around certain people. It just doesn’t feel safe… I’m not sure why I still don’t regard my T as safe. I really don’t. It just feels scary. I don’t want to be judged or left because of what I say… so I am just quiet and submissive and make my little pictures and write my stupid words when I’m not there… alone. How do I work on actually speaking? It feels so terrifying? My nervous system literally activates and is on high alert rendering me almost frozen/motionless and I feel terrified. It was not as scary with Nichole. I never viewed her as dangerous.. just somewhat incompetent. But, then again, she did not know nearly as much about me. And the first time I started to give her “ammunition”, deep secrets about me, she disappeared.. and that was it. I was done. So, we are apparently very sensitive to abandonment…. sort of.
It depends. If they leave and I haven’t shared much it stings a little but.. not as bad as if they are someone who actually knows me. Then it’s seeing you for all you are.. and then if someone *still* leaves… I mean.. I don’t think it’s possible to make a person feel any more worthless?
And tbh, my T reminds me very much of my brother. It would be very painful for some of my parts if that connection fell apart. It’s probably why she reacts so strongly to any perceived implication of abandonment.. But I don’t know how many times or to which part I need to explain that he doesn’t have any plans on going anywhere and yes I know I don’t have any control over that… but just for now that’s the truth so.. can you.. just stop sending me into freeze?
You don’t know anything.
Your brother was still supposed to be here too. And he’s not. People get sick, they die.
Doesn’t your little friend ride that bike too? Accidents happen all the time…
You have no idea what his life is like.. something could just suddenly come up and then poof, see ya.
Don’t pour all your eggs into that basket.. it’s not safe. It’s never safe. Protect yourself. Don’t share everything you’ve shared too much.
I don’t know. I guess she’s right. I can’t with.. I can’t. Lately one of my parts just wakes up in the middle of me doing some innocuous task and starts wailing, screaming because she realizes my brother is gone. It’s like it’s the first time she’s heard the news. And I sit there quietly and calmly continuing to do whatever..just listening to the sound track of her screaming and crying. There’s a certain grace to the way my outer self continues on with life pleasantly while a feeling enormous amounts of pain inside…
I just feel.. an overwhelming desire to lock down. When the vulnerable side of me is out in the open I can barely speak, I shut down, I freeze. The weird thing is.. it’s only in physical presence. Why can’t I get.. that feeling out of my head… stuck in a room w/ an adult male.. they want to see you.. more than you want to be seen… you’re always under their gaze.. watching you.. watching you… don’t… move.
I can’t get that dream out of my head. The blank minimal room w/ a basic bed, grey walls, grey sheets on the bed with a grey frame, a single tv stand w/ a tv on it. And then a strange hole punched through the wall. When I looked inside.. it was a child’s room and my heart sank knowing that.. a child was kept behind this wall, locked away.. no doors. I busted through in the dream to get a closer look. It was bright pink and had posters of animals everywhere and a small mattress on the floor w/ a ratty blanket. A TV from the 70’s w/ static.. and some batman decorations hung up. It kind of made me smile… at least she had some things…
But it’s a metaphor. It’s a metaphor for who I was as a child.. on the outside, grey, bland, emotionless, still – lacking in anything that made me, me.. and the only connection a small hole into the part of myself that was literally walled off with no escape in or out. I could see her.. barely communicate but she was hidden. Isn’t that interesting?
Why do I feel like that again? Just… want to hide… wall off. Don’t want to talk to anyone. : (