When Emotional Pain Makes You Chase the Next Compulsive High

The holidays are over. There are no big events looming, nothing I need to focus on at the moment. I’ve been so busy getting ready for the holidays and moving into a new house, I haven’t had time to think about much else.

Now that I’m not in overdrive (as much as a girl with no serotonin can be in), my brain idles and I feel it — old, familiar pain. It’s like a TV show on repeat, constantly playing in the background, grating my nerves and triggering bad habits. I can’t turn it off; I don’t even know how. Emotional pain is more painful than anything I’ve ever felt, and in my case, I don’t even know how it got there. I don’t know if that even matters.

For all I know, it’s been lodged deep inside me for decades, manifesting as anxiety, depression, irritability and loneliness. Just to name a few.

I’ve tried a number of ways to distract myself — piercings, tattoos, binge eating, dieting, writing and compulsive shopping. Just a name a few. You would think that I would turn to other methods, as those have clearly not worked.

But I don’t.

It’s like my brain shouts, “This is painful! I must feel something else!” Then remembers that one time two years ago that eating a package of candy tasted so good and made me feel better. Then I proceed to binge on that candy, hoping to recreate that happy feeling but I don’t ever find it.

And I will keep eating it until I am literally sick. It’s no different with pills. If I take a pill and feel sedated or loopy, I’ll continue taking the pill. I’ll abuse that medication, taking more to chase that initial feeling to the point where I’m dangerously close to taking too much.

That’s the thing about compulsions — you just can’t stop.

My therapist constantly tells me I’d be a fantastic drug addict. And she’s not wrong.

I wonder if I squandered my time at The Menninger Clinic. Shouldn’t I have learned to curtail these bad habits and compulsions? I am much better than I was, so I’m not sure. I bought three books on dealing with emotional pain today. Will they work? Can I afford not to read them?

At my last therapy appointment, my therapist read me her notes from our very first session eight years ago. In it she quoted me saying, “I have everything I’ve ever wanted. And have it so good. Why am I so sad?”

Today I asked myself the same question, and it makes me feel worse that I’m no closer to the answer than I was almost a decade earlier.

I’m grateful for what I am. I appreciate both the big and small in my life. I thank God every day. It’s almost like I’m embarrassed for feeling depression and anxiety because I have so much. But being grateful won’t prevent me from being depressed and anxious. Not much does.

Tears are threatening because I just can’t stand the thought of being stuck with my defective, asshole brain for the rest of my life. I don’t want to binge food or abuse medication. I just want to feel good because I feel good, not because I’m chasing a high.

I’m hopeful that I’ll find the answers, eventually. That’s one thing my brain can’t take from me — my hope.