Alone

This picture has came across my pinterest feed before.  I've probably even shared on this blog or my FB blog page before.  I frankly don't remember.

What I know is this:  this picture describes exactly what I'm thinking and feeling.

I've laid on my couch the last 2 hours in silence.  Staring aimlessly at a computer screen with nothing but mumbled up words, playing candy crush until I run out of lives, gasps of air in between the tears, pretty much sums it up where I'm at right now.

~My only Hope is in Him~

"And now, Lord, what do I wait for and expect? My hope and expectation are in You." Psalm 39:7

Not many days go by where I am not reminded constantly that the path in life I am walking down is not a walk in the park. Many, okay most, days are excruciatingly rough emotionally.  There are things I dearly love about my current situation. Then there are the things that I absolutely despise with every fiber of my being. 

These things are the ones that haunt me in the wee hours of the morning. They take away precious and much needed rest.  They continue to rob me of the very things that mean so much. 

"When the righteous cry for help, The Lord hears and delivers their troubles. The Lord is near to the broken hearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the righteous, but The Lord delivers him out of them all. He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken."  Psalm 34:17-20

I struggle a great deal with prayer. It is one of the hardest parts about being a Christian. I've prayed about many things for long period of time.  Yet don't receive the answers that I'm looking for.  Currently, I'm not looking for answers. Instead I've laid it at His feet and pleaded for relief.  Relief from what is robbing my family, my friends, and ultimately myself.  This hurts so incredible much. It has, and is, breaking my faith to the utmost end. 

I know deep down in my heart that pleading with the Lord about something so personal, that the answers lay with my Heavenly Father.  He is the only one who can see the bigger picture.  Trusting in this is just as painful and the struggle on some days.  Some days....would be today.

Day in and day out I've struggled with the current battle to regain my life, rise above mental illness, and come out on the other side whole and in one piece. It sucks. There is no way around it. Dear heaven I can't tell you how horrific and troublesome it is for me to continue fighting my way out of hell. Only to have the rocks fall back down on top of me making it even harder to pull myself out of this pit. 

 I'm trying like hell to hold my head up.  I'm fighting my way out of hell to Praise him in this Storm.  I am feeling defeated.  I am seeking out some sort of meaning in all of this.  I have found nothing. I know that Jesus found hope through suffering, so that his children could do the same.  I don't have any answers.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28-30  
My entire life is not engulfed in suffering and a pit of pain.  It really isn't.  I have so much to be thankful for.  This burden has taken ahold of my life, stuck a stick through my heart, and taken me down to my very core.  It has and continues to hinder my everyday functioning.  I know it doesn't have to be that way.

It doesn't have to be this way. I know it doesn't.  And so, I continue to find hope where all seems hopeless.  I continue to seek healing, where there appears to be none.  I continue to lay my burdens and pain at His feet.  Trusting that relief will be found as I lay these burdens before Him.

TMS - Week 2 - Meds

Last week was rocky.  At best.  By the end of the week my tolerance to the damn woodpecker was a tad better.  Not significantly.

I'm still angry that THIS seemingly is my only... last option.

I'm not all that interested in adding more time sitting in the chair and adding treatment to the opposite side for anxiety.

Not sure when that will happen.

All this to say....
I wish it was easy as keeping calm and taking meds.

I wouldn't have to do this crap if I could.

TMS...Day 3

I can only hope and pray at the end of the day (or in this case treatment)....this will be worth it.

Right now I an not very hopeful.

The Apple Cart has been upset. 

And even though things were tough before...they are intensified at an all new level.

Today's treatment was spent listening to a TV show on HulaPlus.  I didn't care either way if it was on.  The tech suggested trying do watch something in hopes of distracting myself.  Not sure how well it helped.

I was in a pretty rough space before going to my appt and it only continued.

This evening I came home from treatment and have spent the night in bed.

TMS - Day 2 - Intense Anger

Today was the first full day of treatment. All nearly 90 minutes of it.
It was just myself and the technician.  So much nicer not having an audiance glaring at every twitch and move I make.

So much nicer not having several people there.  As I said previously, so far every single person has been nothing but awesome.  My perception of the entire process isn't as awesome.

Which brings me to the next piece...

The tolerance to treatment was a little bit easier.  The unraveling was not any easier.  Actually, it was a tad bit more unraveling than than the first day.

Over the last few days I've been incredible angry.
Angry that this is where I'm at.
Angry that this is the alternative.
Angry.
Angry that damn it this is my fucking life.

And then the anger subsides for a short time.
And then a variety of other emotions come to the surface.
And then before I know it the barrage of emotions...come crashing down...and I find myself in a pile of tears sobbing.

Because damn it all...this is my life
Because damn it all...I hate this.
Because damn it all...I hate that THIS is basically the only option I have left.

DBT, Self Sabotage, Fear, and Acceptance

This morning I received a phone call from the psychologist that facilitates the DBT group I previously attended.  I wasn't in a spot to talk to my therapist at the time the call came in and so I sent it straight to voicemail.

I know the DBT skills.  I was in the group for 9-10 months about a year and half ago.  I do use the tools I was taught.  However, there is a very strong part of me that is unable to use those tools from time to time. Okay, often I'm unable to use them.

As I drove home this afternoon from an appointment w/my orthopedic surgeon, the reality of I really do need to attend this group again.  Many feelings came up over the course of the next few hours.

This picture kind of illustrates some of those feelings. A small scared kitten...coming upon big bad puppies at the door in front of me.  Those puppies are nothing but lovable, endearing, and probably will be my best allies in due time. Just as healing can provide the same comfort.

Overwhelmed with fear.  Urges came to the surfaces.  Ones that I couldn't fight off.  I want to hide and run away at the same time.  I've wanted to do everything possible to not feel the true feelings about "What is really behind the emotions regarding this group..."  

I came home and took the DBT binder and put it in the trash.  Determined that I don't need this group.  I don't want to attend. I am overwhelmed with the thought of it.  And so, forget it. I'm not going there again.  Hell to the no.

This is where the self sabotage comes into play.  I have the opportunity to give this group a try again.  I have the opportunity to get the help that I need.  Not everyone is blessed with the ability to have unlimited mental health coverage like I do.  It comes at a high price (stress of my job) and I don't for a moment take it for granted.

What the hell am I so afraid of?  Why throw the damn book in the garbage?  WHY?  I took it out of the garbage.  Put it back in the drawer where I took out of and walked away.  The urges were more than I could fight off, again. I gave in.  Again.  For as long as there was hot water, I hide ran away from the intense feelings of where this was all coming from.  The fear became tears.  I could feel (or taste) the tears as I stood  in the hot shower.  I could feel those feelings.  And at that moment....I knew what the hell I'm so incredible afraid of.  What was driving the fear.  The self sabotage.  The self harm.

Holy Hannah it has taken me forever to write this far....to admit it...what I'm afraid of..I'm stuck.  Stuck in being honest with myself.

I think I'm afraid of finding out who the real ME is.  I'm afraid I will find out that I have the ability to beat this.  I'm afraid I will find out that I have the ability to live the best life I can and it is a life worth living.  I'm afraid of finally having to feel the real emotions,  and figuring out at the end of the day, who "ME" is.  Oh my hell that is freaking terrifying...being afraid of yourself is scary as hell.

Typing that..,,took me over an hour.  In between puking and typing...I got it out there.

I've done DBT before.  I know what the work is.  I know it isn't easy.  Nothing in life worth fighting for is easy.  I fear that a second go around won't work.  And if that is the case I don't know what will.  I know that I need to find acceptance with where I am at the moment.  That taking things one step at a time is the only way out.

Yet it is so f*cking terrifying.  I am acutely aware of who one of the psychologist working with this group is.  She is understanding, compassionate, and she knows how incredible difficult dealing with this shit is.  I know she only expects each participant to do the best she can do and be honest with herself (and them).  It is all anyone can ask and it has to be enough.

My options right now are limited.
Self sabotage is not an option.
I know that I need to find healing.

I know that finding acceptance in all of this will come.  In due time.  My options for this evening and the days ahead are to breathe and accept the challenges that lay ahead of me and accepting this group is something that would be in my best interest (along with whatever type of treatment that is needed).

Not sure where I heard this quote....it fits perfectly with today's theme.

"Sometimes the most courageous act is showing love and kindness towards yourself..."

I need to remember this. I want to remember this. At the very moment I can't remember it.

The Last 3 days....

...and then some have been incredible hard.
...as in gut wrenching hard.

I'm struggling to keep my head above water.
To find balance among the waves.
I know that I'm not alone in this struggle.
Yet at the same time it feels as though I am.
I've pulled out all the tools.  All the stops.
Everything I can to keep swimming.
It hasn't been enough.

My hair hurts.
My teeth hurt.
My ears hurt.
My toes hurt.
Everything hurts.
I know why.
Relaxation tools have went out the window. I've done them.
Over and over...from deep breathing to some mindfulness.

I'm not positive tonight. I don't see much positive ahead of me.  I got up today. I went to church.  I made a crockpot dinner.  It is the extent of my ability to cope for today.

Dear Asshole (Part 1)

**I tried to keep this short. For my own sanity. This is a FAIR WARNING there is very likely going to be several explicits. It is what it is. It is where my heart and head is with this.  This is just the beginning of a series of "Dear Asshole" posts.  More will come as I'm able to process.  Each time I've ever started to write something similar to this I've ended in a pretty rough space.  Never got past the first few sentences and ended up in fetal position on my bathroom floor/tub for heaven only knows how long afterwards.

As the title states: Dear Asshole.  He is just that. An asshole.  And so much more.  As mentioned above it is likely these will not be pretty.  

Dear Asshole,
You may have been excited to see this letter from me since we've not had contact in over 30 years.  What pictures and information you have from me you received from your mother.  Good for her for caring.
I didn't want to write this when I was overly angry, emotional, or depressed.  However, those 3 words seem to be part of my every day life. And have been for several months.

This last bought of severe depression was not triggered by the trauma piece you help create. It is very likely it was just part of much more going on.  Each time I get closer to rising above the fog this particular piece begins to boil over. Causing there to be a ripple effect into my everyday life. You destroyed me in more ways than not.

I spent years trying to figure out reasoning's for your actions.  I've spent countless hours talking to other victims. I've spent countless hours reading and trying to sift to the bottom of why abusers abuse.  The more information I have found, the worse I've felt abut the situation.  They say that abusers have the domino effect.  The abuser was once abused.  That's bullshit.  I'm nearly certain that never happened to you.  Next option?  You strive to dominate.  That is exactly what you did.  When you could no longer hurt my mother, you choose to hurt me.  Fuck you!  You rat bastard.

I hope you woke up each day of the last 33 yrs of your life and took a good look at your shit-filled self and were eaten alive by what you did to me.  I hope you never forgave yourself for it.  I always thought I would be thankful for the day you died.  Each day I got closer and closer.  And the day that I got the phone call was the day when the previous 33 yrs of attempting to stuff deep down came boiling over.  Each day, I prayed for closure that you would die.  Instead, rage took over deep w/in my heart.  Rage that you took the easy way out.  Rage that you didn't suffer.  Sure, I'm sure you suffered.  You have never suffered a moment of the torment that I live each day.  You don't wear the physical and emotional scars that I do.  Those scars that are not seen.  Only heard by the rage that has built within me.

I can only hope hell is as it is chalked up to be!!  There is no amount of repentance that would bring you closer to the pearly gates of heaven. None. I know first hand that in order to cross that gate you would have needed to make amends to those you hurt.

Screw you!
Your Daughter

Change Starts with Believing in Yourself

This post has been a work in progress for the last week. I've deleted it each time I've sat down to write.  I've had a really hard time gathering my thoughts and moving my fingers in order to get it out on here.  Here it is. 

 I've mentioned on my I Will Get Up Again FB page that I have seen my massage therapist at the college she is attending to further her education.  These appointments were for Intuitive Support.  When I decided to make an appointment and give this a try, I did it thinking it would be a good mix with what I'm already doing between seeing H* for massages and J* for regular therapy.

I don't think this is something I would have considered if I didn't already have a relationship with H*.  It's been a good mix.  Last night I had my second appointment.  It was tough. Just like therapy with J* can be/is tough. There wasn't anything that I didn't already know or haven't heard a million times before.  It was just an added support that "In order for change to happen...I need to begin by believing in myself."

Changing those core beliefs is something that isn't easy. I know that. I've been in therapy long enough, been to enough mindfulness and DBT sessions to know that in order for change to even begin to happen....I need to begin by believing in myself. I know this. Quite honestly...I believe every single person KNOWS this.  Do we really BELIEVE it?  That is the question.

The last several weeks have been fueled by deep depression and sucidal ideation.  To the point where I've questioned how much longer I could keep myself safe.  Struggling with self harm to an entirely new level.

Last night I mentioned to H* (massage therapist) I have been hearing that "Charlie Brown's teacher...the 'whaaa whaaa whaaa voice' over and over.  We discussed that some of what she told me on Monday sounded the same way, some of what Jodi and I discussed on Monday was the same thing.  And then last night it was there again."  She paused for a few moments and thought about it.  Responded with "**, what you are hearing that 'whaa whaa whaa voice' is not me. It is not Jodi. It is your own voice telling yourself...wha wha wha!!"  Initially, I didn't agree with her.  Then, this morning as I laid in bed doing not a DARN thing but ENJOYING the peacefulness of being home alone....I began to think more in depth about my appts with Jodi and H* this week.  Slowly, the light flickered on a bit brighter.  "You need to believe in yourself in order for change to begin to happen.  The Charlie Brown voice....it is you...the sound of YOUR own voice."

Much of what is underneath all of the tough stuff...comes down to some of the tougher core beliefs that I have about myself.  The belief that I can't change.  That this is as good as it gets.  Regardless of what positive shifts and attempts I make in my life, marriage, parenting and so forth....holy shit this is hard....I've been stuck on THIS part for over an hour.  Being able to type it out...to SEE it...it's painful.  Damn is it ever painful. Here it is:

"I don't believe that I am worthy of the change, no matter what I do I will not be good enough and....ultimately I am not worthy of the positive and wonderful things that can come about in my life....by believing in myself. No matter how many times my family, my friends, my therapist, or anyone tells me...I don't believe it."

There.I.said.it.  It was probably one of the hardest things for me to type, read, erase, and re-write and leave....

It is the first step to moving past the core beliefs that are incredibly strong.

Tomorrow afternoon I will interview for a job transfer.  This position was open to the public.  I'm not certain exactly how many applications and how many of those applicants took the accounting test.  I have been told that the average 'open to the public' application amount has been 250-300 per position.  Usually 100-150 are offered the ability to take the test required to obtain an interview.  Based on the test score there were approx 10-15 people offered interviews.  I am struggling with keeping this interview.  Trying to find reasons why this position would not be best for me.

I keep hearing the words that have stung for so long.  Cementing the core belief that I am not worthy, that I am not good enough, that no matter what I do...it won't be enough.

The last few weeks I've had several different occasions that have cemented the belief that I will not be good enough.  The voices have been loud and very clear.  Regardless of what I do...it will never be good enough.

Yet, I have continued to fight the tough stuff.  I applied for the position.  I took the test and did not leave...EVEN though it took every ounce of my energy to not get up and leave.   And I will, against all the internal conflict, go to the interview tomorrow.

This is just some of the tough stuff rocking the boat!  The marriage piece adds an entirely new level.  The medication issue adds another level.  The boat tips further and further to one side and eventually it gives in.  I've been at that spot more than once.  I'm trying hard to keep from going there again.

~The World behind the Door~

The world is hidden behind the face you see.  There is a world that has been hidden for such a long time that no one knew it was there, not even the person herself.  She had no clue all that was hidden inside.  She waited until she thought she was emotionally, physically, and mentally stable to allow the door to be opened.  She was not sure she wanted to konw or to open the door.

Fear took over and she didn't believe that everything inside would ever be contained again once the door was opened.  Feared she would be left broken, useless, and fear driven more than she already was.  As long as that door stayed shut she could cope...or...at the very least attempt.  Behind that door if it stayed shut...she could continue to not feel.  Keeping those feelings locked behind that big door...leaving the spectrum of anthing that was possible for a person to feel...she was afraid.

Would the door ever shut again if it was broke up or even cracked open a little bit?  Would she be able to cope with what was inside?  Did she even realize how much pain was really behind that door.  The door is heavy.  She knows how incredible unsafe a heavy door can be.  It is all unknown.  

Random Ramblings

~We write so we don't feel so alone.~

It sums up in a few words why I blog.  Why I write some of the nonsense jibber-jabber that I do.  Ultimately it is because I feel so d*amn alone so much of the time.

Tonights post is jumbled up mess.  As I am at the present moment.  The day was filled with tons of ups and downs.  When I left work I felt the world come crushing down on me.  In a rather crushing way!!

I can't even write about it in depth.  Physical therapy was tough...really tough.  Two words you don't want to hear ever...specially AFTER you have shoulder surgery is adhesive capulitis aka: frozen shoulder.  And given the degree of severity....don't wanna hear that either.  And more daggers in the heart (OR head) when it comes to our older son.

I've had to remind myself this evening several times WHY it is that I don't drink.  I'm certain if I did.....I would never get back up. Ever.  And right about now.....that sounds pretty damn good.

Going Up? Maybe.

I gave up trying to figure out the ups and downs of depression.  As I'm sure many have said before me...depression and mental illness is much like a roller coaster.  When you are up....your are up.  When you are down...you are down.   Everything in between is messy and sometimes more than one can bare.

I've got my butt securely fastened in the seat. I'm not going anywhere.  Hard to remember that it is a temporary ride, when it has hung around so long.  I'm hanging on tight.  As the gradual incline up has started to appear above the horizon.

With having surgery and having been in such a deep slump many things around my house have been let go.  Sure my husband does most of the cleaning and organizing.  However, there are things that have just plain been let go for way to long.

Slowly beginning to think about changing the look in my house.  Money is very tight.  We are unable to purchase anything at this point.  Keeping my thoughts and actions in line with moving up and forward will help me in my physical recovery.  In the end...that will help me getting back to work full-time.  And then it will only be a matter of time before we are able to add the little luxuries such as chalkboard paint to one of our kitchen walls.  And expanding my daughters closet.  Little things.  Moving forward. Moving up.

One thing and one day at a time.  For today I focused on baking and cooking.  Several different Pinterest recipes were made and tried today....some great and some not so great.  For this week I'm focused on making it to work and physical therapy.  Lessening the amount of pain medication each day.  Today, I've had nothing.  No Nsaids. No Tylenol. No narcotics.  None.  Doesn't mean I'm not in a ton of pain.  Just means...I was able to deal with the pain without giving in.  Without the anxiety around...when can I take the next dose.  Regardless of it being narcotics or nsaids.  I will continue to take one of the narcotics at bedtime in hopes that it will give me added help with sleeping.  This is still a huge issue.  And I need my sleep.  We all need our sleep.

Going Up?  Maybe!



I have not always felt like I am broken.  I have felt from time-to-time that I've been broken to the point that I didn't deserve love from anyone, especially from my Father in Heaven.  

Then I heard this song.  Actually, it was introduced to me a long time ago.  The message has changed my mind.  It is my prayer this evening that I"m able to take the message within this song and continue going up.

And as J* would say....find ease with in this battle.

~Stillness~

I've blogged before about the positive effects that massage has had for me over the last few years.  Initially, when I first started seeing someone for massages it was because my anxiety was sky high w/a new job promotion. Over the last 3.5 years, I've seen a handful of different massage therapist.  About a year and half ago, someone suggested I look the possibility of seeing someone different.  And after doing some research I found H*.....and I've not looked back since.

Sometime ago, I believe I blogged about this article "The Healing Effects of 'Massage Mind'".  I did not really think about what I needed or wanted to get out of my appointment today.  I knew my shoulder needed some TLC and so did the rest of my body.  It's been a few weeks since I've seen her.  (*insert ran out of flex spending and so I need to stretch it as much as possible*) 

It didn't take long for my body to sink into the table.  I believe strongly that my body knew what it needed...and finding the stillness that comes along with Massage Mind was exactly what I needed.  For nearly 90 minutes, I was able to turn off the constant tape that was running in my mind.  Okay...ALMOST 90 minutes.  

I continue to struggle. Some days great. Some days horrible. Some days just numb.  Some days I have no clue how I got from point A: to point B: w/o killing someone or myself. 

Being able to turn off the clutter and background noise was healing.  At that moment it was what I needed.  The pain was still there.  Still present.  Yet, with each uncomfortable spot that H* would come across she held that space and did so in a manner that continued the space that I was in.

At one point, she needed to get my attention.  I don't believe that I had fallen asleep.  It was just a matter of being that incredible deep....in silence....stillness....quieting my mind!  It has been a long time since I've been in this spot where I've been able to truly tune out everything/one around me.  As mentioned in this article it states "I don't know where I was at....but I didn't want to come back."  This is exactly where I found myself as H* got my attention.  As I laid there I thought about it over and over...that spot where I was.  Wondering exactly where I had been.  

AND....wanting to go back!

Afterwards, we discussed how it was one of the first massages that I've had in several months where I've not been triggered by trauma, post surgical pain didn't seem to trigger trauma related stuff and in general there was an overall sense of relaxation...quietness...stillness....peacefulness!!

AND......I want it back!!!

Silence the Mind

It has been 2 months since I wrote this post "Loss".  Interesting how time moves so slowly at times.  Then at other times it seems it moves so quickly.  At the time I thought the days would never end.

The past trauma that resurfaced with my birth fathers death was never something I would have imagined happening.  Interesting enough, I had fantasized many times (even in recent months) that he died.  Sometimes, in those day dreams/wishes it was a horrible painful death just as hurt those around him.

I had the opportunity, and still do, to work extensively on the abuse/trauma at his hands.  As I work with my massage therapist on the mind/body portion of healing and with my therapist, I am sure that healing will come in due time.  When I am ready.

At this moment, I sit in my recliner trying to make sense of some of this stuff.  I woke around 2am (pretty normal these days) in a world of pain.  As I laid in bed, for the first time in a few weeks, I tried to make sense of what the thoughts and feelings that were surfacing.  Initially thinking I woke because it was the usual time at night and I was due up for pain medication.  I laid there for a few moments, noticing what my body was telling me.  Trying hard to NOTICE everything about that moment...why I was awake.

This is just a 'little bit' of the thoughts that raced in and out of my thinking...
Is it positional?
Is it pain in my shoulder or low back? or both?
What kind of pain?
Do I really need to take pain medication? Would plain tylenol work?
Should I try to move position.  No, medication is needed.  Shit, I can't move my fingers again bc they are numb. Damn this is positional.
As I sit up there is pain EVERYWHERE.  I hear R*'s voice.
He can't hurt you. He's dead. Remember?

As I continue to get out of bed...noticing the overall heavy feeling that my entire body has.  I waited to take pain medication.  Trying hard to silence the mind.  Thinking over and over how incredible shit face that these feelings/thoughts are.

By this time I'm fully aware that I do need to take something for pain. My shoulder is screaming and it isn't just the mind/body/trauma piece that is screaming.  It is...time for me to take medication.  So I do.  And I make my way to my recliner.

There are specific memories that woke me up. I'm pretty sure they are connected with the overall pain I experienced upon waking up. Which happens often. I'm not sure what to think or how to feel about some of the the different memories that continue to surface.

 It is nearly an hour and half later and I am still wide awake. I shouldn't be wide awake.  The combination of medication should have been enough to make me fall asleep.

Mixture of not feeling safe. I check the doors and make sure they are all locked. I have convinced myself that maybe R* really didn't die.  He is a sneaky bastard.  He's not been out of jail less than a year. I'm sure he had some other reason he got in trouble and was due back in jail.  Why not fake your own death?  Rational thinking, I know. What can I say...it is nearly 4am.  And I've had 2 hours of sleep.  I know he is no longer living.  I have received the Medical Examiner's report and cause of death.  And I'm reminded all the more reason why I really REALLY really need to stop taking narcotic pain medication.

I don't resort to taking a hot bath or any other sort self harm behaviors.  Which, in many ways is progress.  Regardless of the suicidal ideation, negative self talk, and all over hopelessness that comes along with the shame and guilt associated with this shit.  I didn't resort to some of the things that easily numb out that pain.

 Stronger by Kelly Clarkson comes on the radio that I have playing on my radio.  I'm reminded as I listen to this song and write this blog post at the same time that I have a therapy appointment with Jodi in a few hours. And I really need to get some sleep and the need to silence my mind is really important.

Hopefully, this middle of the night random ramblings and purging of thoughts will assist in some of the silencing that is needed.

Under Attack? Probably Not.

Over the last week everywhere I turn..I feel like those around me are constantly preaching at me.  Telling me what I should be doing or not be doing.  Everything from how I should GET to work....to how I should dress myself...to...how much pain medication I should be taking and how I should take it....to who I should vote for....to...everything I do....being told what to do and how to do it.

Maybe it is the medication speaking.
Maybe it is the depression speaking.

Maybe it is the pain speaking.

Maybe these people in my life...they know what they are talking about.
Maybe these people in my life...they don't know what they are talking about.

On Friday evening my Grandpa happened to be one of those people.  Telling me what to do. How to vote. What I should be watching on television.  I was in a rather bad space.  I hurt. I was tired. I was crabby.  So when he went on his political verbal diaherrea of the mouth...I put him in his place.  He is the racist person I know.  So, even if our current president was a Repug....he would hate him.  And....I told him that.  As the words came out of my mouth, I couldn't believe I was actually telling my Grandpa off...so to speak.  "You know...you are the racist person I know.  You don't like O.bama because he is black.  And you wouldn't like him even if he was a Repug...so shush it up to me.  This country offers me the freedom to vote for who I want and I will be damned if I'm gonna let you go on a tangent at 10pm on a Friday night because I don't like  the 'want-to-be' VP."  He continued and then told me "oh, I forget...you are a Union lover.  And so, of course you feel this way."  And then...I lost my shit some more.  Reminding him that not only do "I WORK in a service related field that is supported by a union.  HE RETIRED at "WHAT" age a detective?  And why did he do that?  Because he worked for a union.'  I ended our conversation shortly after on a rather abrupt note.  He had to have the last word of course telling me that when I feel better and am not in so much pain AND on so much pain medication I would feel differently.  I held my tongue from telling him to kiss my ass.

Earlier in the week my therapist told me she wasn't going to tell me what to do, how to do it...only that I needed to find it w/in myself to come up with a better plan for where I was headed.   Because she knows that by telling me I need to do XYZ will only end up with me turning the opposite direction and bulking at the matter at hand even more.  I get what she was saying. And I understand it.  F*ck, I'm living it. See my last post.  And yet, even though I know I needed to hear those things she was saying....it left me in a swirl of preaching. I know Jodi wasn't preaching.  Just like I know that my mom isn't trying to preach at me.  It is just how I'm taking it in at the moment.

This morning, I'm being told that I am doing to much and need to stay home.  If I am going to be able to work I need to lay low.  I call bullshit. I need to be able to be up and mobile and keep my strength up.  Sitting at home is not going to build my strength.  And so the battle continues to rage inside of me.

I'm being told over and over by so many people around me to cut back on the pain medication. And I do.  Until, I leave my house and start doing things.  Pain comes back full-force.  Which leaves me in a panic.  The pain is unbearable. Is it true pain from my surgery? Is it in my head? Is it anxiety induced?  I don't know.  As long as I sit somewhat reclined back...I'm okay and can do 'okay'.

 And then, as I cut back at night...it brings an entirely new set of problems with it.  For the last 5 weeks...the trauma issues that were rearing their ugly head, that were constantly flooding every moment of my day...have been on the back burner.  Simmering. Slowly...simmering.  Somewhat numb.  Actually, lots numb.  I've said it before a few weeks ago in therapy.  And I do believe I mentioned it in a blog post.  I've found myself more and more numb. Conflicted if it is a good thing or bad. NOt sure what to think about it.  Yet, as I cut back more at night...that numbness lessons.  Night terrors start slipping back.  Shame and disgust at so many things begin to creep in more and more.  

This post has went no where. It is my own random ramblings.  Trying to sort the crazy's that are plaguing my ever waking moment.  I've never felt so under attack as I do right now...every where I turn. Afraid to ask for help in fear of being judged, critized even more, told it is my own fault (bc damn it all I know it...I don't need to be told it) and thinking back to Jodi's words from my last appt...I need to do it myself. And truth be told...I don't know that I want to find the answers myself.  If I had them...I wouldn't be where I'm at right now. 

The Missing Piece

During an appt with H* today some tough stuff came to the surface.  Again.  In the past I've scheduled massage appointments to be back to back or same day as my therapy appointments with J*. Somehow, I need to go back to that routine.  Granted, my appt with H* was a last minute schedule because J* is off for the week.

I've attempted to write the things that were fresh on my mind as I left that appointment.  The body-work that jolted me once again...has left me speechless...once again.  The space that was created by H* to continue moving forward and finding healing was what I needed.

Even though the work was tough.  Even though it has jolted me to my core.  Even though my heart hurts in ways that I can't even begin to describe.  Even though grief on so many levels is raging it's ugly head.  Even though all these things....I still feel desire to keep going back.  One more missing piece that I'm not the only person that knows.  Somehow, having someone else know it takes the power away from it.

Still doesn't make it easier.
Tonight it makes it much tougher.

Knots

“If you want to untie a knot,

you must look at the cord carefully

and gently undo the tangle.

Yanking the cord will only

make the knot tighter.”

-Thomas Hanna

I took the above quote off of my massage therapist website.  She has a page about "Untying Knots".  I've read this particular page many times over the last several months.  I speaks volumes to the path that I seem to be on right now.

Not to many days ago as I sat in Jodi's office I couldn't help thinking that I am just done with this path that I'm on.  Whatever it takes to end it. I wanted it done.  I want this knot untied. I want to be rid of the weight it seems to have placed on me.  I want to either tie it all back up and stuff it all back away.  And if I can't do that then yank this crap so it's done and over with.

Clearly those thoughts and way of thinking are not what would be helpful in untying the knots.  These knots are old and fragile.  They've been there for 30+ years.  And yanking on them will only cause more damage.  The logical part of me knows and understands this.  The impatient part of me says...the hell with it..lets just get it done and over with.  It is kind of the same mindset that I have with my shoulder.  Come on already.  Patience and slow are not my best personality trait.

And so, slowly these knots are being untied.

I will attempt to not yank on them.

I will attempt to trust this process of slow and steady.  

Control

This post by My Group Therapy on Taking Control hit the nail on the head for me tonight.  It is like she read my mind (okay maybe she did by this FB post) or something.

I saw H* again today.  Once again, very intense.  Very intense to be honest.  A long time trying to re-intergrate and get myself grounded enough to hear what she said.  I know she spent a lot of time talking after my session.  I can't really say right now what she did/did not say.  Processing it is tough.  And will take a few days.  Guess it is a good thing I have a therapy appt w/J* in the morning.  I had been scheduling the 2 appts back to back.  I've gotten out of the habit of doing that and need to try and do it again.  Specially as trauma work seems to be the focus on both sides.
I had planned on coming home to a quiet house.  No kids.  No husband.  Just me and the dogs.  I got a call from a friend who happened to call at just the right time.  I'm glad she had the foresight that "I did not need to be home alone. I needed company. A friend.  Someone to just be with." I ordered pizza and we sat on the deck making fun of my 10 month old psychotic puppy, complaining that it was cold after the sun went down, and just bullshitting with each other. I needed to just have some me time with a friend.  If I would have been by myself I would have went straight to bed.

I have 2 therapy appts tmw.  I have to be honest.  It will take all of my willpower to go to both appts.
In the end...I know I"m just hurting myself if I don't go.  Self destructing is something I"m good at and at the moment that seems to be a montra that I'm following. It isn't working so well for me.

Safe Place and Getting There

I'm a bit resistant in hand writing things and so I'm going to put this on here instead of writing it out in detail on the workbook paperwork from J* (therapist).

I think it could/will be particularly helpful since I am often not far from my phone.  Since I have access to my blog posts via my phone...this simple reminder is much easier/better than the hand written notes  J* has given me.  I will still write them out on the workbook papers.  Only this will be a bit more detailed.

Creating and Getting to My/Your Safe Space.  It means exactly what it reads.  Creating a safe space.  And how do you/I plan on getting there.

Last week I wrote out on the workbook paperwork in brief detail 'what my safe space would be'.  I don't think I fully comprehended the extent that J* wanted me to go into detail and why I needed to do so.  As the week has progressed, as I had a particular upsetting outburst over the weekend that left me ridden with guilt and trying to not be triggered in the failure mode, as I encountered some difficult feeling/memories/triggers during massage on Monday....as these things and a few other things have been put on my plate the last week....I've been able to see a little bit clearer why/what exactly J* was talking about.  Some of it is pretty private, some of this I can write...but don't know I can accurately talk about unless it is brought up. 

Creating a safe space isn't just about finding a place w/in your home, work, environment that you can go.  It is about finding that safe space w/in yourself.  As I read the homework assignment this week and it talked about 'getting to my safe space....whenever I am in distress or feel the need to do so' it made me think more about expanding this area.  It isn't just the place w/in my home that I feel is "my safe space..." but something that I can access when I'm not home.  I often carry w/me in my car (actually ALWAYS in my car) are 2 things from my Orlando 2011 ETAAM trip.  I have my damnit doll and 'you are not alone' rock.  These 2 items in the past I've found myself rubbing.  Often, when I'm working doing my normal job the rock is in my pocket.  Being able to rub it, feel the smoothness, the edge where the printed paper was put on it...and meaning behind it...will make the difference.  I've got a few of these rocks and I will in the very near future be getting them out. 
One space that works for me is a hot shower/bath.  I've struggled in the past with this being a borderline self injury tool.

Two days in a row this week I was able to get myself to that space and have it remain helpful.  Getting to this 'safe space' was not hard on Sunday.  I was able to put my computer down, lock my bedroom door and lock the bathroom (I Know...I know...locking myself behind 2 doors isn't the brightest idea) and get into the shower where I was able to decompress for whatever length of time. 

Getting myself there the 2nd day was not  as easy.  Life got in the way.  This is where finding something "outside" of my home is important. Having some sort of object to concentrate on would be helpful.  By the time I got home on Monday evening and was able to shower it was late.  It was quite a few hours later.  And I had worked myself up in a tizzy.  My head hurt. My jaw hurt.  My shoulder hurt.  My entire body hurt. 

I had spent several hours attempting to push back the swirling thoughts/memories.  Hell, I sat in my Psychiatrists office....did I mention it to her.  Hell to the No!!  If I had an appt w/J*...it might have been a good thing.  My pdoc and I have a love/hate relationship and I wasn't loving her that much on Monday.  Shit, I wasn't loving myself.  So loving/liking someone else was not in the works.

((((I KNOW I"M RAMBLING......But this is FOR ME)))))

Creating and getting to safe space are 2 very different things.  Yet, as I think about it...I find it very much the same.  If I have the item/space available to me....choosing to use them is much easier. 

H* (massage therapist) often uses different oils.  I am not real good about remembering which oils/scents she uses.  One of these days I will remember to ask her (or email her before an appt to ask her to remind me) which one it is that seems to be the most helpful.  Valor is one scent that she uses often. 

***************

Tapping with Brad Yates

Not much I can really say about this right now.
Overwhelmed is an understatement.
This week has been tough...hell when is it not tough.

Traditional medicine isn't helping.
Medication isn't helping.

As a friend mentioned in a private FB group she was rebelling the concept of tapping.  I've continued to rebel.

I know why I've rebelled and I really dont' care to say why.  I guess its a bit personal.

I did take this from the conference call tonight.  It isn't easy to hear.  It is harder to repeat to myself.

Even though I feel this despair, I choose to deeply and completely love, honor and accept myself ... and my kids ... and anyone else who might be involved in this." - tapping session with Brad Yates