My Body Wakes Up
A week after Emancipation Day, I wrote this:
I’m going out of my mind. I want to rip my skin off and throw it away. I hate blueberry vodka. It is evil. Friday night when I was drinking it, I said that it felt like my skin was shimmering. Yeah, that would’ve been every single freakin’ nerve ending I possess waking up, demanding to be felt. I feel like a raw, throbbing nerve right now. I don’t like it. I want my body to go back to sleep now. I don’t want to feel these feelings. Someone tell me how to turn it back off. I would like to be numb again, please.
Gotta love chatting with the birthy set. “Treat it like labor” she says. “Don’t fight it.” she says. “Work with it.” she says. I hate when people give me reasonable arguments. I guess I’m back on my healing journey, whether I like it or not.
The next day, I added:
Seriously, someone shoot me now. I’m trying to clean/organize/pack and it is not going well. Every time I move I’m just flooded with sensation. I’m trying to accept it, submit to it, and work through it, but it is just not working. There isn’t an instant fix for this. If I am still this bad next Tuesday, I pity that gorgeous hunk who sits beside me in Nutrition because I’m going to be tempted to ask him out for one thing. Ugh! (Disclaimer: that won’t actually happen as my brain is nowhere ready for that.)
I have never in my life experienced anything like this. Even when I was a teenager, it was nothing like this.
I wish I could more accurately describe the sensations I was feeling. My skin felt alive and tingly. It really had felt like my skin was shimmering that night I had some blueberry vodka. I thought it was just the alcohol that was causing it. I never dreamed that in the harsh light of the next day it would still feel like that or that it would continue to feel like that.
I was free and I felt safe. My body felt safe so it decided to wake up – in a major way. There was no easing into it. It was almost like a switch had been flipped. And I desperately wanted to flip it back off. I hadn’t realized how utterly numb I’d been until I wasn’t anymore. The sensations were so extreme that they were nearly painful.
What was I going to do with these new sensations? I thought I would do the only thing I could stand to do to keep my sanity intact – I’d fight really hard to make my body go back to sleep. I tried with all my might to feel numb again. I tried ignoring it – it didn’t work. I tried praying for it – it didn’t work. I tried working with it like a friend of mine had suggested – and that just made me crave touch even more. I truly did want to rip my skin off. I wanted the sensations to stop.
I would run my hand up my arm or my leg and I could almost see the shock waves flowing through my body. I had never, in my life, felt sensations with such intensity. It made me realize how starved for touch I was.
It took many weeks to stop feeling like I was going mad with intense sensations. There were times I wanted desperately to scream in frustration. How could I go on feeling everything this intensely? My hair tickling across the nape of my neck when I turned my head had shivers spiraling down my body. The hem of my skirt fluttering around my ankles would have goose bumps running up my legs. A breeze ruffling the hair on my arms was enough to make me moan.
I still feel things intensely, though thankfully not as intensely as those first few weeks. I often wonder if this is how “normal” people perceive sensation or if this is a hold-over from being numb for so many years. It still feels as though my skin is hyper-alert to the smallest stimulation. For the most part I count it as a blessing. I’m no longer numb because I’m no longer afraid. I’m safe. I’m free.
My body understands that and has been working to heal, even when my brain hasn’t wanted to keep up.