u/Apprehensive_Land142

Desde que comecei a ter esse negocio, há uns 3 ou 4 anos, não consigo nem abrir os olhos.

Tento relaxar e respirar fundo para ver se acaba mais rápido, como vi ser recomendado na internet, mas não consigo. Meus músculos peitorais parecem não funcionar, não importa o quanto eu me esforce.

E quando tento simplesmente "ignorar", sinto como se estivesse caindo em um abismo, parece que a paralisia piora de alguma forma, o que aumenta ainda mais a sensação de pânico.

Ever since I started having this problem about tree or four years ago, I haven't been able to open my eyes. I even thought I was just dreaming, until one day I heard my mother talking on the phone and realized the conversation had actually happened after I was able to move again.

I try to relax to see if it ends faster, like I saw on the internet, but I just can't, my chest muscles don't seem to work no matter how hard I try.

And when I try to just "ignore" it, I feel like I'm falling into an abyss, it seems like the paralysis gets worse somehow, which makes the feeling of panic increase even more.

Não sei se no Brasil essa discussão é difundida, mas entre comunidades de saúde mental da gringa, TCC é extremamente odiado, considerado "gaslighting", especialmente por pessoas neurodivergentes e/ou com TEPT.

I used to see this therapist who would sometimes spend anywhere from five to thirty uninterrupted minutes lecturing me about something. The topics ranged from explaining the definitions of simple words in the slowest way imaginable, conversations that would drag on for fifteen or twenty minutes despite realistically needing no more than two, to giving me completely unsolicited advice, like insisting I should learn how to drive.

She’d try to force engagement during those conversations. At one point, she kept asking where I’d want to drive if I learned. I said “the market” just to give an answer, but apparently that wasn’t good enough, so she kept pushing. When I eventually said maybe traveling through another country, she immediately told me to “be more realistic”, even though I had never said I wanted to learn how to drive in the first place, let alone that I wanted to be persuaded into changing my mind about it. That entire discussion lasted almost a full session.

And I never interrupted her. I’d always just pretend to agree by the end because I didn’t want the conversation to drag on even longer. The best comparison I can think of is that she sounded like those old AI narration voices from short-form videos, that oddly slow, monotone style that feels less like a conversation and more like someone reading a script at you.

Looking around online afterward, I realized this wasn’t even an isolated experience. Even though most therapeutic approaches emphasize that the client should be doing most of the talking, how come some therapists still somehow come to the conclusion that long, one-sided lectures are helpful?

Quando eu tinha entre 11 e 14 anos, eu odiava como uma das primeiras perguntas que me faziam quando me viam era sobre namorar, sobre os “namoradinhos”. O que eu mais odiava era o quanto eram invasivos, porque um simples “não” nunca bastava. Eles continuavam insistindo, ou então zoavam, dizendo coisas como “não deixa seus pais saberem”.

Havia amigos da família que, toda vez que iam lá em casa, passavam o tempo inteiro, desde a hora em que chegavam até a hora de ir embora, enchendo o saco com isso.

Eu frequentava uma psicóloga que gostava muito, mas teve uma época em que ela cismou em querer falar de “crush”, mesmo eu negando tudo. Chegou ao ponto de eu parar de mencionar qualquer amigo menino, só para evitar que ela questionasse isso. Mesmo assim, ela continuava insistindo. Teve uma vez em que eu fui à festa e brinquei com um menino no pula-pula. Quando contei sobre a festa para ela, menti dizendo que só tinha criança pequena, pra que ela não entrasse no assunto. Ainda assim, ela me questionou se tinha meninos e se eu ficava olhando para eles porque achava bonitos. Mas era verdade que eu não olhava para os meninos desse jeito, mas, mesmo sem intenção, ela me fazia sentir como se eu tivesse feito algo errado.

I bought a little potty chair for dogs, but I never managed to teach her to use it because she simply won't go in front of me. When we go to parks, I always take a few small bags and bio-enzymatic cleaners just in case, but never used it, she always waits till she get home, don't matter how many hours it takes. When she had surgery and was staying indoors, whenever I took her to the backyard to do it, she would wait for me to go inside, and then stare at the windows, making sure I wasn't lurking on her.

I don't know what's going on in her head, she feels ashamed in a human sense? Are dogs even biologically capable of feeling any sense of embarrassment?