(no subject)
Jul. 13th, 2020 08:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressI'm not sure when the first time I disappeared was.
I don't really have a name for this action. It's not exactly going Elsewhere, although I call it that sometimes. Avoiding people? Finding the hidden places? Disappearing works as well as anything else, at least as a name.
With hindsight, it's my reaction to experiencing Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. The emotions get Too Much, and if I have to be around people, I fix them by shutting down entirely and attempting to turn invisible (I'm bisexual, we can do that). If I don't immediately have to be around people, I Disappear, I go somewhere else in the building, in the area, in the camp and I sit there with myself and full body sob.
Usually that's enough, and I can go back to the group (shut down and invisible, but at least with people means I can sometimes be distracted out of it). Part of being good at turning invisible is willfully forcing society to ignore your red nose and tear-tracked cheeks, because society is really uncomfortable with crying and you can use that. (but a splash of cold water and avoiding eye contact for a while doesn't hurt).
Anyways, any building I have spent an appreciable amount of time in has a place I can disappear to. Giving you examples would be a catastrophically foolish thing to do, and while I am foolish, I don't think of myself as a fool. And so when it hurts too much to stand there and pretend and be part of the big group -just as normal as the next guy, no overwhelming emotions here!- I disappear.
I don't think I remember examples from high school. I mean, you can't exactly just disappear out of your classes (or I mean, if you start seriously crying you can usually ask for a pass to the guidance counselor and then go talk to Ms. Kammerman for a while, but that's not the same). I might've had one at home when I was a late teenager, but I also had a room of my own with a door that locked, so that was sortof the default hidden place.
I had a place at Springstep though, for sure. And parts of Lesley that I was absolutely not supposed to be in at those times but isolation is an easy way to hide. I have places at the student center at MIT, at the CanAm (where dance is now), at the place where Salem class is, at both churches with bell towers in Boston, at the place demo team meets. Gods, at NEFFA, and I'll have to make a new one since the school's been renovated. So call it since age eighteen, this has been a response for me for a third of my life or so. Emotions do the thing, so we do our response.
Disappear, sob, stabilize. Sometimes write. Sometimes listen to music. Sometimes pray (but I repeat myself). Incredibly rarely, be followed. Are you sure you want to know me that intimately? Yeah, don't make promises you can't keep.
Anyways, part of the whole "never leave the house" thing has been that this hasn't been a thing I needed. I have a bedroom with a door I can close if I need to have a good cry, and roommates polite enough to knock and ignore and generally respect my space. So I haven't needed to Disappear, I haven't needed to hide.
Except...why would I make myself a space in my Discord server, a voice chat channel, that no one else can even see?
The time it happened before was at bells, when things were just not going right, and so I named it after my hiding place at Advent. My sense of humour is night-black, and I find the paths of my own insanity hilarious. Anyways, that was like a month ago, probably closer to two, who can even keep track?
I'm writing this entry with my back against the front door. I don't mind telling you this hiding space, because the only people it could ever possibly matter to are Ezri and Rey and we're moving in two months. But the emotional pain, happening within and around a group of people who will not see me cry, that hit me square in the center of my heart and said "run. hide". So I have.
And absolutely the impetus is insignificant. It always _always_ is. Minor criticism, little missteps, maybe getting misgendered a bit, nothing that actually matters. It's never anything proportionate to the response, but that's what Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is, it's the voice inside my head that latches on the smallest inspiration and uses that to howl "not good enough" so loud that everything else is drowned. So I can't be part of the group, so I can't stick around, so I can't even pretend that it doesn't hurt like fire, like lightning, like ice.
ADHD is not a superpower, and I'm aware that some people are able to make it into one and that's wonderful for them, but I will never _ever_ feel like I am more because of my disability.
And now that all the ways we communicate in groups are webcams and microphones, it's easier than ever before for me to disappear.
~Sor
MOOP!
I don't really have a name for this action. It's not exactly going Elsewhere, although I call it that sometimes. Avoiding people? Finding the hidden places? Disappearing works as well as anything else, at least as a name.
With hindsight, it's my reaction to experiencing Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. The emotions get Too Much, and if I have to be around people, I fix them by shutting down entirely and attempting to turn invisible (I'm bisexual, we can do that). If I don't immediately have to be around people, I Disappear, I go somewhere else in the building, in the area, in the camp and I sit there with myself and full body sob.
Usually that's enough, and I can go back to the group (shut down and invisible, but at least with people means I can sometimes be distracted out of it). Part of being good at turning invisible is willfully forcing society to ignore your red nose and tear-tracked cheeks, because society is really uncomfortable with crying and you can use that. (but a splash of cold water and avoiding eye contact for a while doesn't hurt).
Anyways, any building I have spent an appreciable amount of time in has a place I can disappear to. Giving you examples would be a catastrophically foolish thing to do, and while I am foolish, I don't think of myself as a fool. And so when it hurts too much to stand there and pretend and be part of the big group -just as normal as the next guy, no overwhelming emotions here!- I disappear.
I don't think I remember examples from high school. I mean, you can't exactly just disappear out of your classes (or I mean, if you start seriously crying you can usually ask for a pass to the guidance counselor and then go talk to Ms. Kammerman for a while, but that's not the same). I might've had one at home when I was a late teenager, but I also had a room of my own with a door that locked, so that was sortof the default hidden place.
I had a place at Springstep though, for sure. And parts of Lesley that I was absolutely not supposed to be in at those times but isolation is an easy way to hide. I have places at the student center at MIT, at the CanAm (where dance is now), at the place where Salem class is, at both churches with bell towers in Boston, at the place demo team meets. Gods, at NEFFA, and I'll have to make a new one since the school's been renovated. So call it since age eighteen, this has been a response for me for a third of my life or so. Emotions do the thing, so we do our response.
Disappear, sob, stabilize. Sometimes write. Sometimes listen to music. Sometimes pray (but I repeat myself). Incredibly rarely, be followed. Are you sure you want to know me that intimately? Yeah, don't make promises you can't keep.
Anyways, part of the whole "never leave the house" thing has been that this hasn't been a thing I needed. I have a bedroom with a door I can close if I need to have a good cry, and roommates polite enough to knock and ignore and generally respect my space. So I haven't needed to Disappear, I haven't needed to hide.
Except...why would I make myself a space in my Discord server, a voice chat channel, that no one else can even see?
The time it happened before was at bells, when things were just not going right, and so I named it after my hiding place at Advent. My sense of humour is night-black, and I find the paths of my own insanity hilarious. Anyways, that was like a month ago, probably closer to two, who can even keep track?
I'm writing this entry with my back against the front door. I don't mind telling you this hiding space, because the only people it could ever possibly matter to are Ezri and Rey and we're moving in two months. But the emotional pain, happening within and around a group of people who will not see me cry, that hit me square in the center of my heart and said "run. hide". So I have.
And absolutely the impetus is insignificant. It always _always_ is. Minor criticism, little missteps, maybe getting misgendered a bit, nothing that actually matters. It's never anything proportionate to the response, but that's what Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is, it's the voice inside my head that latches on the smallest inspiration and uses that to howl "not good enough" so loud that everything else is drowned. So I can't be part of the group, so I can't stick around, so I can't even pretend that it doesn't hurt like fire, like lightning, like ice.
ADHD is not a superpower, and I'm aware that some people are able to make it into one and that's wonderful for them, but I will never _ever_ feel like I am more because of my disability.
And now that all the ways we communicate in groups are webcams and microphones, it's easier than ever before for me to disappear.
~Sor
MOOP!
no subject
on 2020-07-14 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
on 2020-07-14 02:08 am (UTC)no subject
on 2020-07-29 08:35 pm (UTC)I am both able-bodied and a little dumb, which makes it easier --I've spent a lot of time crying outside, when there just wasn't anywhere else to go. Hm, that makes me think that I *did* start Disappearing before college, because I definitely had a playground that no one else knew about.
no subject
on 2020-07-18 10:26 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2020-07-29 08:33 pm (UTC)It refers to being dysphorically scared of/upset by/sensitive about rejection -or, and this is critical, perceived rejection.
Dysmorphically here refers to sorta "way outside normal bounds". Like, no one enjoys being rejected or having their ideas shot down, but I think most people can recognize that if you say "let's go have Chinese for lunch" and your roommate says "naw, not into it" they're not secretly saying "how dare you suggest such a thing you utter terrible fool, I will hate you forever for your insolence". (The "best" part is that it's not actually predictable when the RSD will be really bad, so nine times out of ten, the response would be "yeah, cool, Mexican then?" and only occasionally will you realize that you have Ruined Everything Irrevocably.)
The "also sensitive to perceived rejection" also includes the *potential* of being rejected, which ties a lot into Perfection Bullshit (not a clinical term) and things like "if I can't do this project right the first time I will be in big trouble with my boss and everything will be ruined so I can't work on it until I'm ready to do it right oh no it was due a week ago and now everything is worse".
The running away is...not necessarily a part of it, except that certain events (common link: where I am not "perfect enough" by some sort of arcane bullshit standards unknown to common man) make me feel so disproportionately awful about myself that I can't face those feelings amongst other people. In the past couple years, I've been able to name that specific pattern...which unfortunately doesn't make it go away, and I still don't know how to solve the little voice in my head that screams in endless loop "you are not good enough".
Or rather, the way I "solve" it is by running away (going somewhere else) and crying dramatically by myself in an empty hallway/bathroom/classroom/closet/choir loft/hideyhole for a bit, and maybe writing. I can't actually cry forever, and so after a bit I start distracting myself and maybe playing dumb phone games (don't have to think about how awful I am if my active brain cycles are solving this sudoku) or reaching out to people, and then after...5-10-15minutes I can go back to the rest of the group and pretend I'm totally normal and I wasn't just completely over-the-top devastated by making one wrong strike out of 1200 while ringing bells.
((Sometimes it gets a lot stronger and sharper and takes *much* longer than that, but usually I can recognize and just cut my losses and go home. I've never had an RSD bout that lasted past "sleep", unless it was part of a legitimately non-dysphoric seriously bad thing (like getting fired from a job I love, or worrying that I am going to be arrested because I missed jury duty).))
Anyways, hi! welcome to my journal! My name is Kat (or Sor) and I am absolutely stereotypical ADHD (oo shiny!) and I write way too much and you are always welcome to leave comments and I'm following your journal too now!
~Sor
no subject
on 2020-07-24 01:19 pm (UTC)I'm terrified of disappearing, though, because I don't think I could ever make it back out if I let myself slip entirely. And if I did, there'd not be room for me anywhere anymore.
no subject
on 2020-07-29 08:18 pm (UTC)So it's more of an actual problem about bisexuality that bi folk joke about ("don't forget it's bi visibility day today --no robbing banks because you WILL BE SEEN! wait until tomorrow!") rather than one of the (many) weird bi joke-stereotypes (bisexual folk cannot sit correctly in chairs, doncha know?) that don't actually have as much of a basis in reality.
That being said, the whole invisibility thing for me is a totally separate thing that has nothing to do with being bi, and everything to do with "I feel emotions a lot and sometimes disappearing from the space is the way to feel those emotions the most correctly."
I'm lucky to not have fears about coming back (usually), but then, I am my mother's child, and neither of us have ever found a space we couldn't make our own through sheer force of will.
~Sor
no subject
on 2020-07-29 11:37 pm (UTC)