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.

~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.

Sleeping in my Bed

Not being able to lay in bed has been harder than I would have imagined.  Not being able to retreat to a hot bath is just as hard.  I've not been able to shower in a week because of my incisions.  I could cover them and shower.  However, it would require I use adhesive to 'tape' my arm.  The skin breakdown is already an issue and so I've chosen to protect my skin as much as possible.  My normal coping techniques have been shot out of the park.  This morning, as I sit in my recliner, I'm struggling compose myself.

Sleeping, or trying to sleep, in my recliner isn't going well.  Laying in bed is even worse.  I've had no privacy what-so-ever.  And that part of this recovery process is not one that I was prepared for.  I knew sleeping in my bed was going to be an issue.  I wasn't prepared for the emotional effects this would all have on me.

This morning, the tears are plenty. I slept very little again last night.  Finding myself more and more sleep deprived.  And with that the tears are more.  I'm not coping well this morning.  Unable to stop the tears. Unable to think clearly.  

On a good day with no other factors playing into the mix, I struggle with depression and staying above water. On a good day it takes non stop effort to keep myself going.  I knew this would be tough. I knew it would be work. I knew I would need to be mindful and proactive in order to get past the first few weeks w/o sinking into a deep hole.

I guess my expectations for myself were a bit higher than they should have been.

Adding in the frustration and anger that has taken up residence towards the first surgeon who arrogantly blew me off...and...I'm a mess.

I left my massage and therapy appointments late yesterday afternoon/evening feeling pretty good.  Somewhat empowered and able to fight this battle with my head up high.

Somewhere between my therapy appointment and early this morning I lost it all.  

Moving Forward....Only Forward

Embracing life for what it is worth.  I'm a tad overwhelmed (doesn't take much) as I think about what the weeks ahead will hold.  I'm excited and terrified all in one.  While I had another massage appt today I knew exactly what I needed and wanted going in.  I made sure to let H* know that I did not want to happen.  We discussed the possibility of how to deter the easily triggered portion of my massage.  This has been an ongoing theme.  Being able to discuss it with H* and have the ability to trust she would listen to me is priceless!


My gut twisted a bit as I spoke w/my surgeon this morning regarding my upcoming surgery.  The recovery will be tough.

Even more priceless is having someone you trust to have your well-being at heart.  I'm confident that I will be in one of the best hands among surgeons in this University town.  I am not seeing anyone at the University and WILL NOT be going to the University.  I was not just another number today as I spoke w/my surgeon. I was his patient.  I was someone whom he cares about.  Sure, he will get paid because I am his patient.  Unlike, the other surgeon I saw.  He sees me for WHO I am.  A patient w/an injury.

I will rest much easier when I leave the hospital knowing that my work comp insurance company hasn't tried to screw with me.  The Nurse Case Manager has attended all of my appts except last week when I went in for an emergency appointment.  She made it clear today that I had surgery approval and it was about time to get this show on the road and start getting better...that I've attempted to do everything in my power to get better and I continue to go backwards.  I hope and pray she is right.  That her employer will not be asshats and I will be well on my way to recovery..moving forward.  ONLY forward.

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.

Million and One Pieces

That is what my heart has been broken into this evening.  I have done fairly well over the last few weeks emotionally.  Up and down as usual.  Tonight the sense of failure, guilt, and grief have overcome me in a way that I can't even describe.

I was looking for something on Facebook.  I came across my adopted son (whom we disrupted) foster moms FB page.  Actually, it was her pictures of her dogs that I came across from a mutual friend.  I've seen her page before. 

I'm not processing this information very well.  He graduated a year early.  A YEAR early.  I did not get to take his senior portraits.  I did not get to see him graduate.  I did not get to be there for his special moments.  I know I made that choice.  I know I made the choice to protect our younger children.  It hurts no less.  I know he made it against all odds and I should be happy for him.  I can't see that right now.  It brings with it a mixture of many thoughts and feelings.

Why doesn't this shit ever happen before therapy appts?  (J* answer that one for me, please!)

I started a blog post earlier in the day from my phone....I just deleted it.  It would have been very blog share-worthy. It was positive, upbeat, encouraging, and maybe even helpful for someone who may be looking for a little bit of hope that it gets better.  I don't spell proof my posts...typos and all...I decided that post needed to be spell checked.  And then as the tears streamed and in a fit of whatever you might call it...I decided it wasn't share-worthy and deleted it.

I'm making no sense, I know.  It will be an early night for me tonight.  Going to bed and pulling the covers over my head....somehow wishing this experience never happened....ever!

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. 

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

Sh*t or Get off the Pot

This morning I started my day by making the trek to see the "new" surgeon.  He is conservative that is for sure.  I wonder have asked myself over and over in the last few weeks...today..."Did you make the right choice by choosing this guy over his best friend and fellow surgeon.  I will probably never know the answer to this question.  Since this is a work related injury and I'm on my 2nd opinion since the Jackhole, I saw a month ago...I cant change doctors.  Which, is fine with me.  He's not ready to jump into doing surgery until he is confident he knows 100% what is going on and what the source of my pain is.  However, I'm struggling w/being patient.  Patience and I don't always get along.  And this is one of those times. 

I left the clinic today thinking that old saying my mom used to say to all.the.freeking.time.  "Just shit or get off the pot".  And that is where I'm at.

Until then...I remain w/the same restrictions.  I return in 3 weeks.  In hopes for more answers.  He gave me an answer today as to what the problem is right now...  adhesiv.e capulitis....AKA:  froze.n s.houlder.  I've got a long road to recovery, I think.  Which is depressing.

I returned to work for a few hours and then made the trek back to the same side of town I was on earlier in the day to see H*.  I have seen her weekly for the last 3 weeks.  Last week and today some pretty heavy stuff came up.  As in staying present was very difficult.  I struggled getting dressed. I struggled sitting in her office afterwards talking for a few moments.  The fight or flight internal mode was in high gear.  As she shared w/me her experience and what she felt happened and the shifts she felt, I thought I didn't think about it on the same level.  She felt like there was a shift.  Shift in energy, shift in my own personal trauma work, shift in general.  An area that she has never felt to be an issue before screamed very loud and clear.  It was a bit of a different shift for me.  I felt the shift and definately agree that it was different than usual.  I got up feeling stuck.  Stuck and unbalanced so to speak.  The intense pain and areas that were screaming to me while I was there....left shortly after I left her home/office. 

I had a psychiatrist appt w/K*.  I sat outside her office trying to gather my thoughts.  After getting to a place where I was feeling pretty good I went in to my appt.  As usual, K* irked me.  I let her know she was irking me.  I also made it loud and clear that I was not going to continue to have the disagreement that we were having.  She was agreeing with the first Jackhole surgeon.  She did not hear what I was attempting to say.  She was not hearing that I've followed the treatment plan for my shoulder 100%+.  She had it stuck in her head that "after your WLS you ate nothing but popcorn....when asked you said nope not supposed to but....its good and thats what I want".  SHe failed to remember that was the ONLY FOOD (other than toast) that didn't make me vomit for months on end.  When she got stuck on that fact...I got a bit pissed.  And made it VERY CLEAR she could "remember those things if she so choose...and that was 8 fucking years ago (okay I didn't say fuck but came fucking close),  I also made it clear that I would not change her perception, thoughts, or whatever it was that needed to be changed. SHe could think those things if she wanted.  But she did not have all the facts and I was no longer going to debate or argue the point w/her.  I have a new surgeon. He will make an informed choice about surgery and if I'm a canidate based on his findings. Not based on a dx on my chart for which I was never questioned about."  I got my point across. Which was good.

The guilt factor is really coming on hard after yesterdays blow up w/little man.  He sees someone at the same clinic that my pdoc/therapist work at.  I took the kids to dinner after our appts.  I asked little man how his appt was and was there anything he wanted to share w/me.  His face got red, looked away and said nope.  I poked a little bit and said "Did you talk w/Dr. K* about mommy's bad day ysterday and how I got upset and yelled at you?"  He sheepishly shook his head yes.  I told him I was proud that he could talk to him and he was honest w/me about it.  I followed the conversation up with "I hope you were able to remember that mommy did apologize?"  He didn't remember me coming to him afterwards in tears, telling him there was nothing that he did that was his fault and it was all mommy....and blah blah blah...  My heart sank.  And the last several hours guilt has crept in and I feel horrible.  I don't want to be that mom.  I've tried so fucking hard to change that and not blow up at my kids.  The damage is done.  Damn it all.

My heart continues to be heavy as I attempt to find and describe what that safe space will be, how I will get myself there, and what it would look like...in moments of distress, suicidal ideations, and severe downward spirals.  The heaviness comes from the resistance of doing the work.  It is work that I know needs to be done.  Work that I know in my heart I'm ready to do...to move fwd...to shit and get off the pot..  The other part is being able to describe those spaces...I was able for the first time in a very very long time....remove myself from the situation yesterday, to that spot that is safest and quietest for me....I was able to consiously choose NOT to use the hottest water possible...instead just hot enough to be soothing and drown out what needed to be drowned out at that moment.  In doing so, after using all the hot water, I was able to return to what I was doing, attempt to repair the damage w/little man (which i realize today didn't work) and move on. 

I've rambled in this post more than I ever intended to.  It's late.  Everyone is asleep.  The demon puppy is asleep and has finally stopped terrorizing everything/one insight. 

I blog for my own therapy.  Tonight...I needed that therapy.  I've wrote several blog posts and have them in the drafts.  Most likely they will never be published.  And maybe someday, when I'm not in a vulnerable space, when I'm able to speak about the sexual abuse and other crap....I will share them.  For now, it's off my chest.  And I know that I don't have to share them w/anyone but myself.

Just Be/Sit With It.

A year ago if you told me some or all of my physical pain I experienced was emotionally related; I would have not believed you.

I did not believe H* (massage therapist) when she first brought this up to me.  I do believe deep down inside my heart I knew she was right.  However, as I do with most things I rebelled against agreeing with her.  Often, in therapy and other areas of my life, I have to chew on something for a few days, weeks, months....years in order to believe or see the full circle.

Soon I came to see where and what she was talking about.  It wasn't long before I was able to identify specific areas of my body where physical pain would show up and I would think to myself; "what is going on right now, what are the triggers (or non triggers) around me?  What is it my body is trying to tell me. 

I have one specific area that has caused me significant pain over the last couple of years.  When I was in an accident while working in Feb 2011 that area of my body because an even larger target.  I spent several weeks with bruising around this area of my body from the accident.

Today has been a particular rough day.  I spent a majority of the morning in tears.  Pain and swelling in my shoulder has come to an all time high.  And tonight, I can assure you that the physical pain I'm dealing with are emotionally related. Not my shoulder but the other area....my ribs.  And...I feel like I'm being crushed.  Earlier in the week, H* and I spoke at length.  She has told me several times before and then again this week....

"Just sit with it."
"Just be with it."
And so tonight, no Tylenol.  No heat.  No nothing.

Just sitting with it.
Just being with it.

And trying to let that be enough.

Strength in the Broken Places

Finding strength in the broken places can be exhausting.  This is exactly where I'm at this evening as I try and find strength in those places that have left me raw and vulnerable.

I often find myself struggling with bits and pieces of the broken places.

I'm fortunate to have found an amazing massage therapist who is compassionate about the work she does.  After receiving two cortisone injections that left me in extreme amount of pain last night and today I was somewhat hesitant to have a massage.  Knowing that I needed to go...I embarked on a journey today that left me somewhat speechless.

I've spent a majority of the last several hours after leaving my massage trying to process what exactly happened. What I know is....This afternoon I had an experience that left me truly struggling to catch my breathe.  To find strength where there is very little.  It was something that took me completely by suprise.  And has left me trying to find the strength I know I have and hold on tight.  What a blessing it is to have a massage therapist who is passionate about the work she does and was able to guide me back to place of being present, to a place that I was safe and would remain safe and more importantly express to me her knowledge and understanding in what happened as she gentle touched a scar on my head.  Being able to know what happened and understand it is crucial

Much to my surprise when she asked me "How did you get that scar?" I was able in a matter of fact manner tell her.  And even more suprising was able to elaborate on a bit more of  'my story'.  The one that I try so very hard to hide.  And have went to great lengths not to discuss, supress and just move on.

Earlier this week I ordered a few different books.  I'm hoping that these books will give me the Courage that I need to continue healing.

My shoulders are both signficantly better this evening than when I got up this morning.  Still pretty dang painful but much better than they were earlier in the day.

Crazy

My heart is heavy (heavier) this evening as my dd questioned me about an upcoming therapy appt.  My dh and I had discussed that we would very cautiously approach this subject with her.  Not give her 'much time' to worry and fret over it before her actual appt.  He let it slip on Saturday and wasn't very good about giving her a 'soft and cautious' approach about why we have felt the need to make her an appt.

This afternoon my husband was gone w/my youngest to a chiropractor appt.  I came home from lunch w/my mom. I had a chiro appt early this morning followed by a massage.  Instead of working on my back and shoulder, H* felt the need to do energy work. I did not really clue her in as to how my weekened went but just said I have had a tough few days.  I left that appt w/her telling me to take plenty of time intergrating back into myself and not to drive until I was ready.  It was draining on all levels.  Driving nearly 3 hours round trip for a 1 hour lunch w/my mom was nice...but even more draining.

The moment I walked in the door my dd asks me about this appt.  I had no clue she knew.  I also had no clue that my husband let the shoe drop and didn't talk to her about it.  He told her it was because of something totally unrelated as to why.  Not knowing why and feeling completely terrified she went to the neighbor girl whom she is very good friends with and asked her "Why do you think my parents would want me to see a therapist". 

Long story short...only crazy people see therapist. She sees me as being crazy and depressed.  It didn't come out in that manner.  It came out in a 12.5 yr olds thinking. It hurts deep.  It was the things that came out...that fuel the "my kids deserve better" montra.  The montra that plays very loud more often than not.  Ultimately...my biggest fears...came out of my daughters mouth this evening. 

I tried to keep myself composed and in a "concerned mom mode".  I explained to her as gentle and loving as I could why her dad and I feel it would be best for her to see someone.  I hope and pray that she was able to know that I am coming from a place of love.  I pray she was not able to see the deep shame, pain and frustration...I tried so hard to keep from her.  She went on her way. I spent 45 minutes sobbing in a hot shower, trying to compose myself....I've not done so well.

I return to work in a few short hours.  My heart hurting more than it has in a very long time.  I have absolutely no clue who I will manage to get to the end of each day.....and the only thing that I can say right now or think is...fuckity fuck fuck.

Breathing

Do As One FB Status Reads:    Notice the space between your breaths. Hang out there for a moment or two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Very powerful for me today.  One of the things that I notice myself doing  when I'm down and out, being triggered, PTSD crap kicking in, or just in complete freak the heck out mode is....hold my breathe. 

The last massage I had didn't go so well.  In a world of fight or flight and trying hard to stay present, I found myself holding my breathe more than a few times.  As I've mentioned before that gal I see is great.  She always says something to me about it, bringing my thoughts (and breathe) back to the table.  And on this particular day....I did exactly what the above FB status reads..."notice the space between each breathe...was it short, long, weak, strong, labored, smooth". 
~~~~~

This evening, again in a fit of furry.  PTSD raring its ugly head.  My son, crying bc of an ongoing freaking rash/open sores, my daughter wanting to go to the cell phone store and get a new phone (my sons phone took a bath in the washer....he was due for a new phone anyway.  So he will get my daughters and she will get a new one.  Thankfully, the cell company we use has some great deals on $1 phones. She is planning on using some of her babysitting money and purchasing one that is a bit nicer.)  Anyway, I was struggling.  Struggling w/my childrens needs, wants, and desires.  I WANTED to take my dd to the cell phone store but I could not bare the thought of leaving my house.  I wanted my dh to take her.  He can't.  It is in my name and to do things like get new contract/phones updated I have to go with them.  UGH UGH UGH.

I gave myself permission to come home and go to bed after my therapy appt.  Work was horrid. Chiro appt was horrid.  And therapy is just that..therapy.  It went okay but was just enough to make me want to come home and go to bed an dnot get up...ever.  I resisted that urge and other than a 20 minute hot shower...I stayed present w/what was going on.  Breathing wasn't something I was doing very well.  My dh noticed on several occasions and said "Do you always hold your breathe like that?"  That is all it takes for me to snap out of it.  For a few moments. 

~~~

I finally broke down and called my PCP's office and made an appt.  It took everything I had in me to do it.  As I stood in my kitchen in tears talking to my dh about making this appt he said "You need to do this."  And...I did.  I asked to speak to my PCP's nurse.  I got someone different.  However, she  was who I need to speak with this afternoon.  I have an appt. on Monday.  I have no expectations going in.  My dh was going to go with me. However, he has an appt at the same time that he has had to reschedule 2 different times bc of sick kids.  And he is not willing to change it.  I'm praying for the strength to lay it all out there.  I can only hope and pray that I'm in a space that I can do that.  Today or tmw...that would SOOOO not happen.  We shall see.  And....I will remember to breathe!!

~~~~~~~~~

Doesn't Happen Often

.......this Momma is speechless.  I usually have lots to say.  I'm rather skeptical at different energy related massage techniques and so forth. 

I'm not sure what to think.
I'm not sure what to feel.

This morning I decided to go into uncharted territory in the realm of massage.  This type of massage was what initially drew my attention to this particular massage therapist.  However, it has taken me 6 months to get up the nerve to actually go there and experience this type of gentle, subtle massage.  I have seen this massage therapist regularly for the last 6 months.  Generally, I've gone to see her bi-weekly.  However, in cases such as the last 6 weeks, I've seen her more often.

Raindrop Massage is much different than anything I have ever experienced.   I found it to be very gentle and quite subtle, but the impact so far has been very deep and powerful. It is incredibly relaxing - in a different way from other bodywork that is difficult to put words to and simply needs to be experienced.

Massage Mind

I LOVE this article.

Massage Mind.

I've received massages on a rather regular basis for nearly 2 years.  I've had many good. I've had many bad.  And I've had some awesome massages that left me speechless.

I've blogged before about Heather and will continue as along as I am finding benefits.  She is worth her weight in gold. I am so thankful I've found her and even more thankful for her beautiful skill.  She is truly a talented lady who knows her clients and herself.  There has been much healing since I started seeing Heather in late April/Early May.

More and more I've found myself getting to the Massage Mind that is talked about in this article. 

90 Minutes....

For 90 minutes this afternoon...I turned off my phone.
For 90 minutes this afternoon...I tuned out the world.
For 90 minutes this afternoon...I attempted to regroup.
For 90 minutes this afternoon...I attempted to reground my inner soul.
For 90 minutes this afternoon...I attempted to find an inner peace.
For 90 minutes this afternoon...I shut off everything that was spinning and swirling in my head.....

and attempted to find relaxation!!


DEEP relaxation.

When Heather asked what my goal was for todays session..I made it very clear to A: follow your intuition and B: relaxation.

I know and trust that Heather to get me to that point.  And for the 90 minutes that I was there....I did just that. 

If it was financially possible I would see her twice a week for the next few weeks in hopes to curb the increased anxiety that has been/does/is leading to other downward spiraling.

There are many studies that show massage therapy helps in many aspects of ones life.  The benefits are extremely helpful to your health and well-being.

I've been scheduling my massage appts bi-weekly and generally on the same day as a therapy appt.  I feel selfish going bi-weekly.  Yet, I also know that the benefits are significant. 

The lady that I see is awesome and I'm so thankful she was brought into my path.

There are days (today being one of them) where I don't always look forward to going for my massage.  And those are the days that I need it most.  Interesting that the days that I 'look forward' to seeing Heather the most are the days where I'm physically beaten up. My body hurts. 

I need my dh to hear me out. 
I need my dh to not think I'm being selfish.
I need my dh to not just agree and say "whatever makes you happy dear".
I need....to figure out how to make these 90 minutes last a full 2 weeks. 
or win the lottery that I have never played!

You Are Enough

It is no secret I struggle on a daily basis with being enough on many different levels of life.

Today happens to be one of those days. Probably, one of the worst I've had in a very long time.
I've been blog surfing for several hours. Laying in bed trying to find something that would speak volumes to the anxiety, tears, thoughts and feelings of failure that have taken me to my knees today.

The last few weeks I've been able shut out the spinning thoughts and craziness making that comes with being at this point by having a massage. Not that the massage itself fixes or takes it all away. Instead, gives me 90 minutes to take away everything else, shut the you are not enough and so much more off. Completely off. It has taken me finding a new massage therapist, who is intimately intune with my anxiety and fears and who follow my bodies and the energy it gives to her.

I have a few different Positive and Uplifting blogs I like to surf.

The above video was found on Owning Pink.

~You Are Enough~

Much easier said....than believing.

I'm not doing.....

My husband seemed to think that waking me up bright and early (before noon) was needed today.  I, on the other hand, was not to impressed with his bright ideas to go shoe shopping for school. 

Things didn't go so smooth.  I laid in bed, texted a friend my irratation w/dh and his bright ideas to get me out of bed EARLY and covered my head w/the comforter.  And prayed he would get the h* out of the house....becuase I could feel an epic meltdown working its way to the surface. 

I had no goals today.

In fact.  I did have 2 goals.  The first, I accomplished yesterday after I got off work.  That was a promise that I would take my kids to Targ'et to spend the $100+ they received in BD gift cards to this lovely big box store.  I initially had mentioned I would take them today, Monday.  Then, last night I had a '2nd wind' after coming home from work and said "I don't care that it is Sunday....I am not doing sh*t tmw.... and I'm getting it done today".

I did not want to stay in bed because I was super depressed, anxious, suicidal, homicidal (ok...it came close to getting ugly when the man wouldn't leave me the freek alone....the comforter over my head was a sigh he better leave...I think)....I just didn't want.to.be.bothered!!

Nearly 'work day' I have to get up between 3:30-4:30am.  I'm not a nice person that time in the morning.  And often times I don't get off or home from work until 6:30-7:30pm.  Every once in a while....as in TODAY.....I had plans of doing SH*T!! 

I did get up....with in minutes of him leaving.  I showered. I did not do my hair. I sat in a tank top and capris on my laptop.  He comes home and starts riding me like flies on sh*t...to leave. WTH!! 

My mini-melt-down wasn't so bad...I think.

I gave in and went shoe shopping. 

This is the thing....self care is important.  I knew that I needed to do sh*t today.  And I tried to say it in a way that was 'nice'.  I tried to use some of that therapy babble that J* discusses w/me all the time.  She would be proud.  Well, maybe not....but she would atleast know that I do *listen* once in a great moon.  "I....I...I...you know those I......statements that are so crucial".  And I even told him in a manner that didnt' involve me swearing or getting mad.  Well, that is partially true.  After HE didn't hear what I was trying to say...as in I AM DOING SH*T TODAY.....it got a tad more not very theraputic on my part...and I'm sure she will have something to say that will tell me I could have done it differently.

I will declare Tuesday a...

"I'm not doing sh*t day"....except I do have a therapy appt and a massage!