This feeling your feelings stuff will keep you pretty busy.
The good news is that the shaking in my hands has lessened, mostly thanks to a magical Chinese herb formula prescribed by my Needle lady that I just started taking . The magic pills that she said cause “almost everybody” to feel immediate relief didn’t do a thing for me (her theory is that my body has a hard time coming down from the anxiety), but this new stuff (it has melatonin—I take about ¼ of the nighttime-sleepy dose twice a day) seems to be doing the trick.
Which is not to say that everything is groovy, just that the wind roaring in my ears, getting hit by an emotional bus, hands shaking, oh G-d I think I’m going crazy feelings seem to have subsided. In their wake is a lot of I would call “not fun,” but at least I know what to do with it. Compared to the other stuff, it’s solid, it has a shape. I recognize it when it happens, it isn’t just like getting hit by a train all day long. Oh, this is grief. Oh, this is pain because I know now that Mr. X and Dolores are sharing an address and a life. Oh, this is sadness because I loved him with my whole heart (in the words of the song that is serving as the latest soundtrack to my life) and it seems I was grandly fooled. Oh, this is what it feels like to go through a divorce. Oh, this is lonely.
My Needle Lady and my therapist seem to agree on a number of points, one of which is that a lot of what I’m feeling is not really for things happening right now, but rather that a lot of those feelings that in the past years I gleefully stuffed away are coming up for air. And I do see this as progress, but it’s no fun. I do recognize that feeling all this shit is a lot better than eating my way into oblivion every chance I get, but the strength of it is helping me understand why the hell I’ve been eating so much in the first place.
And that’s finally, finally feeling like a poor substitute for giving myself what I really need. Not to say that I only eat when I’m hungry and always stop when I’m full, but I’m stuffing myself senseless a whole lot less. And feeling a whole lot more. And it’s good, I know. And it sucks, just so you know.
ETA: P.S. My commenting has been and may continue to be a bit sparse. I’ll get back on it as soon as I can. See the first line of the post for the only explanation I’ve got at the moment.