When The Soul Stays In Its Cocoon: The Hard Path To Becoming A Butterfly

One night, I had a dream, and later I realized that what was happening in my life was connected to correctly interpreting that dream.

I wrote about my insomnia in this post, and about the doctor's prescribed treatment in that post.

If you'd like to follow my journey, please read the two previous posts; they might help with your own issues, too.

My dream began like this: I was somewhere, and I walked into a sports equipment store. I moved through it slowly and exited from the other side. I was wearing a short, comfortable dress, and as I went down the stairs, I worried that my skirt would rise above my knees, so I wrapped a poncho around myself. Then I entered a tunnel whose walls were black and covered in soot. It was extremely dirty, with colorful scraps of fabric scattered on the floor and torn pieces of English-language newspapers pasted on the walls. No matter how far I walked, the tunnel never seemed to end; it twisted and turned endlessly. I stayed in that tunnel for a very long time. Finally, I reached a place with a slight incline. As I climbed it, I arrived at the mouth of a cave and stopped right there. I was standing at a height, and the path ahead of me was beautiful and sloping downward. I saw two women in hiking clothes. I didn't have suitable clothing, but still, happily and laughing, I moved along with them, heading downward. I laughed as much as I would in an entire lifetime, a very deep, long laugh.

Two weeks after starting the medication the doctor had prescribed, although I could almost sleep, something inside me had gone quiet. Joy, sadness, worry, everything felt neutral to me. Nothing made me happy, nothing made me sad, and I was fully aware of this change in my emotional state.

Even on the day I went hiking with a friend, when we reached the summit and saw the beautiful view of the city, I felt no excitement at all.

My state was like the flame of a match that was lit but produced no heat; it couldn't even ignite a few small twigs. It was bright only on the surface.

Returning to the Tunne

I realized I had to return to the dirty, smoke-filled tunnel from my dream and re-examine my life, because I was still stuck in that tunnel.

My therapist friend had analyzed the dream, and up to now, I had passed through two bends in the tunnel and had now entered the third.

I hope this is the last bend I need to examine, so I can reach the cave mouth I saw in my dream sooner.

As you may remember:

• First bend: Let go of excessive self-awareness used for self-interrogation and the feeling of hopelessness.
• Second bend: Stop blaming myself for situations and accept that I'm allowed to be weak.

I thought that by paying attention to these points and accepting what I had previously ignored, healing was close. But it seems the issue is deeper, and I needed more patience, because my soul was still giving signs and signals.

Perhaps for some time, though I don't know how long, I must live like a silkworm in its cocoon: with patience, and by examining issues that my mind and body can no longer tolerate, transform in silence and darkness into a beautiful butterfly. This butterfly will be so much stronger than the old caterpillar that it can easily leave its cocoon behind.

Try, even during psychological breakdowns, to keep both the positive and negative aspects of the situation in mind.

By striving to understand the messages of your soul and unconscious, give more attention to the positive side.

A highly sensitive person and sensory processing sensitivity

I realized that over the years, I had become sensitive to everything I didn't like and couldn't stop or change. When I looked closely, I saw that everything that now keeps me awake at night and causes dizziness and nausea had triggered reactions in me before; I hadn't liked those things back then either.

So why can't I reduce their intensity now?

Why has my being suddenly felt that it can no longer cope?

If these questions have made you think, then this post is for you.

What does "highly sensitive person" mean?

Sensory processing sensitivity refers to individual differences in how people perceive and respond to stimuli (for example, noise, light, touch).

Sensory processing sensitivity is a temperamental or personality trait characterized by four main components:

• Strong emotional reactions
• Deep sensory processing
• Greater awareness of subtle environmental details
• High sensitivity to overstimulation

I noticed that just as I react more strongly to positive stimuli, such as having a kind, supportive friend, I also react more strongly to negative stimuli, like repeated and ongoing arguments.

Because a voice inside my head kept saying: I don't want to hear these sounds anymore. I don't want to be in this atmosphere anymore. Normally, I would go for a walk, visit a friend, or exercise. But unfortunately, none of these activities reduced the intensity of that inner voice anymore, and I developed 24-hour nausea and mild dizziness.

Sensory processing sensitivity and the impact of negative environments

I realized I have high sensory processing sensitivity and experience more negative emotions, along with lower self-efficacy and life satisfaction, but with greater mental intensity.

Given the home I live in, where there has been tension and conflict for years, I concluded that my vulnerability has increased because of this background. My early life experiences were full of tension and distress. In addition, in recent years, I've endured a lot of stress and psychological pressure, including family problems, financial strain, and other stressful events.

In other words, I was personally predisposed to vulnerability, and at the same time, I've been exposed to excessive environmental stress.

One of the most important theories in psychology is the diathesis–stress model_, which explains why some people develop psychological disorders under difficult conditions while others do not._

It involves two key factors:

• Underlying vulnerability (diathesis)
• Environmental stress

This is why a sensitive person like me, compared to someone else experiencing the same level of stress but living in a low-stress environment, may be in a worse situation.

Small Steps, Quiet Efforts, and Hope on the Path to Healing

Considering everything I've understood from the third bend of the tunnel, I'm not exactly sure what specific action I should take.

Following the recommendation of an article that suggested mindfulness and meditation as a potentially effective treatment for highly sensitive people, I've tried to practice it more often during the day, since I already meditated before.

From experience, I've seen that although experts in this field state that mindfulness practice may reduce negative emotions and at the same time increase positive ones, it usually hasn't been very effective for me.

Still, I continue doing it, even if it helps me by just 5%.

I use white noise and try to calm my mind a bit with the sound of rain and ocean waves reaching the shore.

Remember

Even the smallest conscious efforts made in the heart of darkness can become a window toward the light and make the path of healing a little easier.

I'm not yet completely sure how much this is helping, but I feel satisfied that I'm making an effort on this path to improve my condition, even if I haven't achieved the desired result yet.

I'd love to know what you thought of today's post. Drop a comment or hit reply. I read everyone.