So I’m officially on my trip. Wife and I made good time and arrived around 7pm on Friday evening. We stayed up until about midnight chatting with “Mom” and although I was thrilled to see her and hug her and just BE with her, something feels very very off.
The first 24 hours were awful. I was miserable. I don’t exactly know why, but I just felt so agitated. Everything was irritating to me. Normally I love the sound of my Mom’s voice. I could listen to her talk all day, every day. But for some reason, even her voice is irritating to me right now. It was intolerable to hear her and Wife talking back and forth. At one point I just walked out of the living room and climbed back into bed. The entire world felt too stimulating and irritating and I couldn’t bear the thought of being exposed to any extra sounds or lights or other sensations.
I put on noise-canceling headphones and pulled the covers over my head. I found myself thinking about Zooey. I’m staying in the same room I usually stay in when I make this trip, so I’ve had numerous conversations via phone and text with Zooey while sitting on that same bed in that same room. I was also thinking about my biological family and all of the horrible things that have happened in this part of the world. I felt that rage again. Well, I didn’t feel it, but I could tell it was there…close to me. I started crying because I felt like I might explode if I didn’t find a way to discharge some of that intense energy. I was just sobbing and writhing around because my physical body hurt. Nothing was causing that pain except the memory of what has happened before.
And the food. Oh Jesus, the food. River is just beside herself and every meal is a fucking ordeal. I’m so exhausted and tired of dealing with this. I just want to eat like a normal person. I hate all of the obsessing and organizing and freaking out. It’s terrible. At this point, I’ve told Mom about the eating disorder (because she noticed right away that something was off), so she’s stopped offering me brownies and ice cream and fudge and pie. Thank god. But being in an environment where we can’t completely control the food is horrible. Absolutely horrible.
I feel a little better today. I’m not quite as cranky or on-edge. But I don’t really want to be here. I don’t want to go back, either. I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. I don’t want to be anywhere. I don’t want to feel anything or talk to anyone or care about anything. I feel like I’m either completely numb or totally agitated. Not much in between. It sucks.
At one point after I was explaining part of why I was hesitant to make this trip, the therapist said, “That just sounds like an awful big sacrifice just to see these people.” At the time (and by “time”, I literally mean Friday morning) I was offended and felt misunderstood. But now I’m thinking she’s right. Because this is exhausting. It’s not fun. I feel disconnected from everything and everyone. I’m miserable.
I love these people tremendously. But I just don’t know how many more of these trips I have left in me.