Dissociation
diggleszz
Registrant
I never understood the obsession
with dissociation.
Dissociation, in my experience,
is a tool to survive, when we are uncomfortable.
We do it intentionally - through multitasking,
routine, some, by obsessing over: sin and
Heaven.
Dissociation is not a phenomenon
Sometimes, we aren’t happy where we are.
Sometimes, the environment, produces too many emotional triggers
At a hard time, that it’s no one’s fault,
yet we still must endure these moments.
Then, we must recede.
When so many efforts have been made
in only one institution, stemming from the same situation
it’s clear it isn’t your fault anymore~
If you are stuck where you are
a bad living situation,
abusive people, you must set boundaries
and if it’s unrelenting, you must eventually leave.
This does not mean, burning every bridge,
and running when you are burning out.
Sometimes it means, waiting until you must leave.
Sometimes it means, setting goals, and taking inspired action.
I’ve been there, driving to school, in unending pain
at only eighteen.
The constant fear and triggers
locking me in
these survival states.
But, as an adult, steeled with
the hope and safety of therapy
steeled with medication
We can take control
We must wake up and we must survive.
And, oh I know, my pain is not everyone’s. My interpretation of my abuse may only work for me.
My experiences, may have been less destructive, on my body, than the experiences of others.
And, how the body remembers.
But I have felt that hard edge of mindfulness
without naming my abuse.
Without,
calling it out
and owning my experiences.
That attempt to shut myself down
and not accept my emotions.
The bridges I’ve built on pain to help me survive
have fallen
and I will never go back.
Dissociation is nothing new
We can read it in the Bible
the story of Jacob and Rachel
How poor Leah used and exploited
Passed around
with dead eyes
She wished only for a son
and sat in dissociation.
How these psychological phenomena so desperately spread
by Big Pharma
Pollute the minds of those
seeking advice
seeking companionship
seeking to heal.
And I am here. I have torn myself open. Stabbed my journal, as it bled red ink.
I bear my pain, attach my name and face,
I am here.
The most detached and dissociated people I’ve ever met
Have lived in wealth and hate
They lash out and seek control
They chase positions of power because they
know better
Who is dissociated in this society? Is it the people who sing to a god who spreads stories of rape as normalcy? Sitting and accepting such horrors as meaningful lessons?
Is it the people in power, unaware of the experiences of those before them, and an ever changing society,
clinging to their old world memories?
Is it the man, who attends school, who attends work,
and sings of songs of pain and joy and hope? Who wishes for better, for change and bears himself despite the shame?
with dissociation.
Dissociation, in my experience,
is a tool to survive, when we are uncomfortable.
We do it intentionally - through multitasking,
routine, some, by obsessing over: sin and
Heaven.
Dissociation is not a phenomenon
Sometimes, we aren’t happy where we are.
Sometimes, the environment, produces too many emotional triggers
At a hard time, that it’s no one’s fault,
yet we still must endure these moments.
Then, we must recede.
When so many efforts have been made
in only one institution, stemming from the same situation
it’s clear it isn’t your fault anymore~
If you are stuck where you are
a bad living situation,
abusive people, you must set boundaries
and if it’s unrelenting, you must eventually leave.
This does not mean, burning every bridge,
and running when you are burning out.
Sometimes it means, waiting until you must leave.
Sometimes it means, setting goals, and taking inspired action.
I’ve been there, driving to school, in unending pain
at only eighteen.
The constant fear and triggers
locking me in
these survival states.
But, as an adult, steeled with
the hope and safety of therapy
steeled with medication
We can take control
We must wake up and we must survive.
And, oh I know, my pain is not everyone’s. My interpretation of my abuse may only work for me.
My experiences, may have been less destructive, on my body, than the experiences of others.
And, how the body remembers.
But I have felt that hard edge of mindfulness
without naming my abuse.
Without,
calling it out
and owning my experiences.
That attempt to shut myself down
and not accept my emotions.
The bridges I’ve built on pain to help me survive
have fallen
and I will never go back.
Dissociation is nothing new
We can read it in the Bible
the story of Jacob and Rachel
How poor Leah used and exploited
Passed around
with dead eyes
She wished only for a son
and sat in dissociation.
How these psychological phenomena so desperately spread
by Big Pharma
Pollute the minds of those
seeking advice
seeking companionship
seeking to heal.
And I am here. I have torn myself open. Stabbed my journal, as it bled red ink.
I bear my pain, attach my name and face,
I am here.
The most detached and dissociated people I’ve ever met
Have lived in wealth and hate
They lash out and seek control
They chase positions of power because they
know better
Who is dissociated in this society? Is it the people who sing to a god who spreads stories of rape as normalcy? Sitting and accepting such horrors as meaningful lessons?
Is it the people in power, unaware of the experiences of those before them, and an ever changing society,
clinging to their old world memories?
Is it the man, who attends school, who attends work,
and sings of songs of pain and joy and hope? Who wishes for better, for change and bears himself despite the shame?
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