Those of you who have followed my posts for a while have probably noticed that they have been much less frequent since my workplace was burgled. The incident involved various types of violence, and I have been diagnosed with PTSD (it feels really weird to say that when the same diagnosis is applied to war veterans, but I'm not the professional) and put on a few medications, but those things haven't in themselves stopped me from posting. The bigger issue is that I feel this event has altered me as a person - and as a different person, my previous style no longer fits. I'm adrift and in flux, shedding old clothes like old skin.
Mental Time Warp
I always felt that I was an old soul, but my body and mind felt young. I've only had two serious boyfriends. I only started travelling out of the country after college. I simply had not experienced that much outside of novels - and I can see now that my style reflected a lot of that innocence. Yes, I still dressed for an impending apocalypse - but I did so with flair! and short shorts! and Forever 21! And now many of the things I loved feel silly and twee on me. As Deb put it in a recent message, I feel grown. Aged. Mentally shocked with a streak of white hair. Nothing like a brush with death to suck the whimsey out of your closet, I guess. Maybe it will come back one day but, for now, it is how it is.
Disease of Avoidance
My doctor calls PTSD a disease of avoidance - the mind wants to avoid the bad memories at all costs and becomes agitated when it can't. So in relation to my wardrobe, beyond the fact that I feel I've outgrown some things, I also can't stand to look at others. The coat I was wearing during the attack, for example, is still 100% my style and able to be worn in a mature way... but as much as I love it, I also harbor a bit of hatred for it. Poor coat! It's just a coat, yet I seem to be angry that all it did was lay in a pile with everyone else's coats. I am hanging onto it but may just have to sell it in the end. Even items that had nothing to do with that night are being purged, because they belonged to that person - the victim. Sometimes I think I want to sell it all, move away, and start a whole new life as a whole new (stronger, safer) person.
Change and Control
If being angry at a piece of clothing sounds weird... immediately after the incident, I would fly off the handle if someone suggested eggs in the morning. Mybreakfastismychoicegoshdarnitandhowdareyoutakethatawayfromme! Well. I'm not quite that sensitive anymore, but I do set out to make my own mark. I chopped off all my hair. I sold things. I bought new things. I've always loved shopping but, wow, does it ever feel great to buy new stuff now! I think this must be how some people create behavioral addictions, and I need to watch out for that since I do have a history of hoarding in my family. But. I will watch out for that later. For now, I like - and I choose - to feel in control.
Retail and Rebirth
After all this talk of aging and avoidance and hoarding, you may be wondering where the healing comes in. I have always felt that style and identity are closely intertwined and that I never feel great about myself unless my clothes accurately describe who I am inside. So the theory - the hope - that I (sometimes subconsciously) work under is that editing my style will help strengthen my soul. Every day that I put thought into curating my closet and dressing myself helps reinforce the basic fact that I am still here. I still have a living body to dress. I still have a choice in how to dress it. I still have a job and a choice in how to spend my money. I can change my look - and my outlook. With a little time, effort, and therapy (retail and otherwise).
I'm sorry I haven't been here as much and haven't given as much attention to all of your lovely posts. I am distracted and depressed and a little selfish right now. But I don't think I will always be that way.
Mental Time Warp
I always felt that I was an old soul, but my body and mind felt young. I've only had two serious boyfriends. I only started travelling out of the country after college. I simply had not experienced that much outside of novels - and I can see now that my style reflected a lot of that innocence. Yes, I still dressed for an impending apocalypse - but I did so with flair! and short shorts! and Forever 21! And now many of the things I loved feel silly and twee on me. As Deb put it in a recent message, I feel grown. Aged. Mentally shocked with a streak of white hair. Nothing like a brush with death to suck the whimsey out of your closet, I guess. Maybe it will come back one day but, for now, it is how it is.
Disease of Avoidance
My doctor calls PTSD a disease of avoidance - the mind wants to avoid the bad memories at all costs and becomes agitated when it can't. So in relation to my wardrobe, beyond the fact that I feel I've outgrown some things, I also can't stand to look at others. The coat I was wearing during the attack, for example, is still 100% my style and able to be worn in a mature way... but as much as I love it, I also harbor a bit of hatred for it. Poor coat! It's just a coat, yet I seem to be angry that all it did was lay in a pile with everyone else's coats. I am hanging onto it but may just have to sell it in the end. Even items that had nothing to do with that night are being purged, because they belonged to that person - the victim. Sometimes I think I want to sell it all, move away, and start a whole new life as a whole new (stronger, safer) person.
Change and Control
If being angry at a piece of clothing sounds weird... immediately after the incident, I would fly off the handle if someone suggested eggs in the morning. Mybreakfastismychoicegoshdarnitandhowdareyoutakethatawayfromme! Well. I'm not quite that sensitive anymore, but I do set out to make my own mark. I chopped off all my hair. I sold things. I bought new things. I've always loved shopping but, wow, does it ever feel great to buy new stuff now! I think this must be how some people create behavioral addictions, and I need to watch out for that since I do have a history of hoarding in my family. But. I will watch out for that later. For now, I like - and I choose - to feel in control.
Retail and Rebirth
After all this talk of aging and avoidance and hoarding, you may be wondering where the healing comes in. I have always felt that style and identity are closely intertwined and that I never feel great about myself unless my clothes accurately describe who I am inside. So the theory - the hope - that I (sometimes subconsciously) work under is that editing my style will help strengthen my soul. Every day that I put thought into curating my closet and dressing myself helps reinforce the basic fact that I am still here. I still have a living body to dress. I still have a choice in how to dress it. I still have a job and a choice in how to spend my money. I can change my look - and my outlook. With a little time, effort, and therapy (retail and otherwise).
I'm sorry I haven't been here as much and haven't given as much attention to all of your lovely posts. I am distracted and depressed and a little selfish right now. But I don't think I will always be that way.
