Pre-session thoughts, dissociations

Sometimes I forget how hard the holidays are. I plan for them, try to get extra hyped, make everything pretty and Christmasy, and try so hard to be excited... And then mid December hits and so does the depression. I start to hate having Christmas decor up, I resent the idea of adding more. It's such a significant shift, so much so that I can't share it with anyone. So I tolerate the decor, I try to enjoy it, try to make the times special for everyone else. 

I dissociated more times than I can remember. I dissociated today, just driving to the store. I can remember two incidents this holiday season where I genuinely idealized the thought of suicide. The escape of it. The first time, I felt so depressed and recluse. I laid on the couch and welcomed death. I felt my own unwillingness to survive, to exist. I asked myself if suicide was what I wanted, and I realized it wasn't. So I didn't. 

The second time, I had a knife in my hand. A large one, freshly sharpened. I was cutting apples for pie. I don't remember what the fight was about, but colin and I had one. I guess I'd been really snappy towards him, he felt attacked. I think it was about making dinner rolls - he said I wanted to make them, and I retorted that I hadn't wanted to, I had made a mistake in our plan (to make bread for stuffing) and was thinking about buns instead. It somehow turned into him wanting to make buns cause he thought I wanted to, but I could barely muster the strength to make pie. So when he stormed off, and I was already struggling mentally, I held the knife in my hand and gazed at it with ideation. I thought how easy it would be. How quick I could slice through flesh to drain my blood and die. I put the knife down and grounded myself. 

I haven't thought of drugs this holiday season, nothing more than THC, anyways. I've thought about alcohol a lot though. Numerous occasions I've felt the need for a drink, for the feeling of ease that comes from it. The only reason I haven't been drinking is because of medication. I've dissociated enough and almost cracked a can enough times to know it's not self control keeping me from doing it. It's the knowledge that if I do, while on these meds, I'll be violently ill and in an extraordinary amount of pain. So as much as I want to stop the meds, resolve to the fact that they worked (I think) and that I should be done them by now (missed some due to holidays), I keep taking them. I take them because if I don't, there's nothing stopping me from drinking.

I feel numb.