“I don’t know if I’m extremely sensitive or life is unbearable.” – Vincent Van Gogh
There are times in life when to be present simply feels unbearable. The feelings are too big and run too deep and push us to the point of feeling separated from our body. We feel blank, blah, detached, perhaps even dissociated. And it’s during these times when we don’t actually need to be fully present with all that we’re feeling, but instead get to disconnect in a healthy enough way so that we can take a respite from the turmoil.
As a trauma therapist, I frequently talk to my clients about dissociation and the brilliant utility of it. Our psyches are willing to do whatever we need, consciously and unconsciously, to preserve us. Dissociation, which is the unconscious ability to disconnect from ones experience, is a beautiful defense mechanism that every single one of us is fortunate to have. The primary danger of it is that we aren’t able to fully keep ourselves safe if we aren’t able to maintain a faint connection to ourselves. When we’re out in the world, we have to be aware of our surroundings and aware of how our body is moving through spaces so that we can physically be safe.
But when it’s an especially brutal time in life, it is an invitation to disconnect from all sorts of things and reconnect with some others. We can disconnect from social media and upsetting conversations. We can disconnect from overstimulating environments and frustrating situations. We can connect with absolutely whatever brings us comfort and perhaps even a bit of joy.
So what am I doing right now to disconnect from the unbearability of the moment?
It’s November 7th and tomorrow I will decorate for Christmas. I’m going to play Christmas carols and sip hot apple cider while I put a tree in my living room and another in the bedroom. I’m going to try out a shortbread cookie recipe that I’ve been imagining in my head for the past couple of weeks. I’m going to watch a rerun of the Great British Bake Off while I crochet myself a winter scarf. And I’ll work on the photo book that I’ve been creating, which consists of 300 pictures of my cat. Her name is Nugget.
I have deactivated nearly all of my social media accounts and have taken a moratorium on the news. Instead of scrolling on my phone before bed, I’ve started a stretch routine and read 10 pages a night. In the morning, I meditate and then do a short qi gong routine. My phone is either on silent mode or do not disturb, because the notifications seem to grind on my wirey nerves.
Every day I will check in with myself to see what I need and give myself the options of connection or distraction without judgment and I lovingly encourage you to try to do the same, one day at a time.
