For the last few weeks I have been insanely busy. For those of you who have come by looking to see if there was anything new I apologize for the lack, and I will try to be more diligent in writing.
For the last year I have been pushing myself very hard. I have tried to accomplish many things that are difficult and all of them simultaneously. I have had amazingly good days and some that were not so good. I have stuffed down terror and anxiety as well as pushing through flashbacks in order to accomplish both my internship and my schoolwork. The bulk of the difficult emotions and the stuffing revolve around doing an internship. After almost 20 years of isolating myself I have had to be around people, a lot of people, more than was ever comfortable.
I have also met some of the most intelligent and creative people I could ever hope to find. They are dedicated and caring. And with the exception of one know very little about me or what I have been through. And that is fine. It has been difficult at times as I struggle through the panic. A part of me thinks that if I say anything about any of the struggles that I am having that they will not want me to be there. (The little child in me that was always pushed away still shows up sometimes.) I want them to see me as whole and competent. Even if inside I am struggling to do all the things that are required of me.
I spend a good deal of time reflecting on my actions and reactions. I spend a very large amount of time thinking about how I can turn my panic reaction into a viable response rather than the knee jerk reaction I want to give. I have done a lot of painful growth. Good growth, just very painful.
I also found out last week that there is a price to be paid for all the stuffing of emotions, the repressing of thoughts and the forced movement. My body simply did what it needed to and just shut down. My energy levels tanked. I had gone into the red zone of energy levels. For four days I could not do anything beyond moving from the bed to the bathroom, bed to the chair, and sleeping. I lost 10 pounds in 36 hours. And I am just now feeling moderately functional.
I am currently working on as course on mindfulness and that has been my saving grace. I breathe through the panic that comes when I think that I am getting behind. And I try very hard to stay in the here and now. One of the things that we do at my internship is a diary card. This chart helps me to see where I need to focus in order to maintain a balance in my life.
I am doing better. Life is good. I am learning to ask for help. The end of the semester is only two months away. And then I can get my brain back.
Lately I have been overwhelmed by stress and changes in the things around me. By the end of the day I am filled with extreme sensory overload. It sometimes reaches a point that the only thing that I can do is go to bed and hide under my covers for half an hour.
After one particularly hard day at my internship site I called home and told my family I would be home a few hours later than usual. I needed to decompress from everything that had happened that day. I went to a restaurant that my husband and I go to regularly. I sat at the table where we usually sit. I ordered something that I have had many times in the past. And I pulled out my kindle and started to read a book that I have read before. There was no new input. Everything was familiar. After about an hour I felt calm and a lot more peaceful. I was able to process the stimulus of the day.
I had gone to a place that was constant. There was nothing new to interfere with the processing of the day. Later I thought about how I was feeling and how I had decompressed in such a short time. And how it had been such a thoroughly relaxing thing. The thought that came to me was that I was processing in a place where there was continuity. A place where nothing new existed and nothing was competing for my attention. There was no new input.
It felt like a moment where a light bulb is turned on and you realize that the switch for the light had been there the whole time. And I was just noticing it. Having a space that is continuously the same and never changing or at least only subtly changing can be extremely healing for an over stimulated mind. I had heard of people having a meditation space where they would always go and thought that it was a very cool. I never felt that it was something that would benefit me.
Creating and having a space of continuity has now become very important in my self-care plan. It is part of the “what pleasant activity did you do?” section of my plan. Doing this helps me to work with my difficulty in dealing with change in general. I am finding a place in the storm of my life that is always calm. A place that is not overstimulating and whispers to me to come in and find peace.
I hope everyone can find that place and visit it often when things in life become overwhelming.
When I was younger I desperately wanted a family. At the time I was not particularly close to any member of my birth family. Because of this I would try to meld with others into their family, I felt like the proverbial cuckoo’s egg. I was trying to plant myself in to a family. Doing this is basically how I survived a large portion of my childhood. I would find a friend that would let me be a part of their family in a small way. Even if it was only in my imagination, I created family.
When I was twenty-one I moved from San Antonio to Massachusetts to be near other parts of my birth family. By that time the need for family had become so great inside of me. I just wanted to have family and here were actual blood relatives. At the time the need that I projected was so great that I am surprised that they did not just turn and run away. My need to feel nurtured or to nurture was so huge that I did not even recognize it. As time past I felt as though I was isolating myself from them in many ways. I felt that I was intruding into their lives. Or I would feel as though I was taking advantage of their generosity. As I saw the need in me I tried to be casual. I also felt their withdrawal from me as I withdrew. In some ways I was the unknown interloper trying to impose myself on them and their family. I did not grow up around them and I did not really know them. I had grown up thinking about them. And was jealous of their closeness to each other. And here I was an outsider trying to get into their inner circle.
As I gained more knowledge of myself and who I wanted to become I found that I did not quite fit in with some of the family that had welcomed me. Or this was my belief. Whether or not this was true it was what I believed.
I moved on and away from family at some point. I stopped trying to become one with them and stopped trying to find what I was missing. In time I found the man that would become my husband. Together we created our own family. A large, loud, and beautiful family. That I have been very honored to be with as they grow into adulthood. They have given me an immeasurable sense of being a part of something truly amazing.
I often look back with regret on the family that I seemingly scarred off. I don’t think it was all me. I don’t think that it was anyone’s fault or anything like that. I just regret that the only contact I have with most of my family is on facebook. I am just glad that the deep need that I had,from the time I was very little to be a part of a loving family, has finally been realized.
I have often wondered if others who have come from abusive homes have similar experiences of looking for family. I have a very big family now. I am close to my sister that I grew up with and I have created an extensive family of friends who function as family. My choice family rather than a birth family. There are many members of my birth family or extended family in my choice family. For which I am very grateful. I guess where I am going with this is that family is what you have. Even if what you have is family that you brought together and not one you were born into. If home is where your heart is than so is family.
One should never underestimate the importance of self care. Those words make a very important statement. It is something that I have been failing to do for some months now. I have not taken time to do things that are healing or nurturing for myself in a very long time. As result I have slowly stopped being there for people.
In my internship I show up and I am actually the most present with people that I am anywhere. But home life and personal life have been in a fog. I have dreaded getting up in the morning. And I have struggled to try to find some joy in the world. Things have been bleak. The funny thing is that I have also been thinking that it was not very obvious to others. My family however have been very much aware of how I have been unavailable.
Letting my self get into this state has also opened up old trauma wounds and anxiety. The anxiety attacks seem to get stronger and more frequent the less self-care I do.
Things are doing better. I have started to remind myself to stop and enjoy small things. Starting the process of self care with small things is important. Otherwise the act of caring for yourself becomes almost a herculean task. Little steps do the most. Recently I was told that I needed to take small things that give me joy and do them until they are large parts of my life.
I have been taking more time to spend with my children. I have been giving and receiving longer and more meaningful hugs. I have been petting and talking to my dog ( who has also felt my distance from others). Listening to music that makes me dance. I have been coloring in an amazingly detailed coloring book. And eating with more meaning and not just trying to fill some unattainable need. I have also begun to realize that I have a deep need to keep doing this. I am feeling the stirrings of peacefulness again.
So, today’s goal is to enjoy the day, the people I am with, and the time I can spend with my family.
I was going to write about what I would like people to know and understand about having PTSD. I deleted the whole thing. It felt like a rant and not something helpful at all. Although sometimes rants are helpful. But I would like to share instead all the positive things I feel that I have because or in spite of having PTSD.
And unsure of how to do that I decided to write a poem. And here it is.
I am only as strong as I believe
IF everyone could see me in my true form
They would know and understand
If everyone could see me when I push through
When I make it to the other side of the pain
They would not be so quick to judge.
If everyone could see the courage that breathing requires
They would stop wondering if I could accomplish something
If everyone could see that the greatest strength I have
Is in knowing that I can do what I need to
It is in knowing that though the price is high
I can hide and lick my wounds later
After I have accomplished what I am doing.
If people could understand
That I do truly know my limitations
And that I am perfectly capable of challenging them
I change and grow everyday.
I can move beyond the limitations people put on me
Because the bar I set for myself is so much higher
If everyone could see my true form
They would see the scars that have healed
And the great beauty of the healed scars,
Mixed with the great light of my soul
Have made me who I am.
Not perfect, not the same as everyone else
Sometimes more fragile
But infinitely growing and always changing.
Someone once asked me what it felt like to have PTSD. They asked me what it was like and how did I handle the things that came up because of the PTSD. I don’t remember what it was that I said or if I was able to give an accurate assessment of what it feels like. But I was asked this question again recently. And though I have a better handle on life, my depression and the triggers that set off the terrors, panic and anxiety this is what it is like.
It is waking up at night for no real reason with sweat pouring off you and your heart racing with no way to calm yourself. It is walking into a room and having a door shut to loudly and feeling like someone just hit you with a mega dose of adrenaline and you have no where to run and depending on where you are, no way to release it. It is walking through a room and a certain smell hits you and you find that you are not in the room but reliving some of the most horrific things that have ever happened. It is going to work in the morning and leaving as much of the PTSD as you can outside the door so that you can function and get through the day. It is walking back out to your car where you try to put all the pieces back together and come down from the amazing job you did of holding things together in spite of the panic.
It is learning how to draw on the things that you have learned as a survivor so that you can help someone else through their own hard times. It is trying really hard to not judge people about how they respond to you because they have no idea you are struggling to keep it together. It is realizing that for the last however many years you have lived in a fog just to get through and that you have missed so much of your life. It is living with a sense of impending doom and panic when there is nothing to be afraid of anywhere near you. It is about being terrified of losing everything that is good in your life because for the first time you don’t feel alone.
It is also about waking up and realizing that you are still alive. It is about remembering to breathe. It is about relearning to open your heart. Relearning to trust. Relearning that the world is not as dangerous or as bad as you thought. It is about being in this moment right now and knowing that I am safe. It is about remembering to feel the snow as it hits my face and not thinking about any other thing that may have happened in the snow. It is about an amazing act of courage that gets you out of bed, through the day, through the large groups of people, and safely back home. It is about trusting that you are not the things that happened to you. It is about releasing the past at whatever speed you can. Even if it can only be measured in nanos.
Having PTSD is feeling like everything from yesterday is involved in today and making it though anyway. It is about being courageous and remembering to breathe.
Here we are back at Christmas. This is probably one of the harder times of year for people. It is also the time of year that people think there is no problem at all. And for some that is a completely honest statement. But for others it is something to think while the world falls apart around them.
This is not an easy time for me. I find myself more depressed, more easily stressed out, and suffer unexplainable crying jags. In other words I am profoundly not having a jolly time. For me the reason is trauma triggers. A lot of not good stuff happened for me this time of year as a child. As a result I struggle with this time of year.
Don’t get me wrong. I totally love Christmas music. I love the stations that play holiday music for a solid month. I love the stories that are shared of holiday experiences. And I very much love making people smile with gifts or acts of kindness. I am not a humbug sort of person. I even have a shelf of sappy Christmas movies that I watch. But sometimes the past and the triggers that come up are often more than I can handle.
This is really hard for some of my children. I know that some of my adult children want to fix it and make it better. That somehow there must be something that they can do that will make this easier for me. There really does not seem to be anything that they can do that can fix it. I have explained to them that it is really me and that I am the only one who can change how I react and respond to the holidays.
I have made a few goals for getting through the holidays. Goal one is to just relax and stay present. Don’t worry about anything that is not relative to this moment. I have a schedule of things that happen and when they happen. Things like bill paying and so forth. Goal two is to just enjoy my family. Enjoy the moments that I am with them. Make cookies with my children. Play games with them and just enjoy being with them. Goal three is to enjoy what comes my way. Whether that is something fun having to do with family and friends, snow days, or just being in a quiet moment. All the goals are really about being in the present moment and not continuing to allow the past to ruin this time of year.
It is also important for me to allow myself to grieve if that is what I need to do and not block hard feelings from coming. Being present means I can allow them to come but I don’t have to hold on to them. I can acknowledge them and let them go. Way too often I hold on to those thoughts and let them take up valuable space in my mind. When what I need to do is to acknowledge and let them go.
This holiday season I will sing, dance, and make merry. And I will engage in self-care and tenderness to myself. I will remember to take deep calming breaths and be courageous.
Lately I have been trying to make a decision. I guess that a better way of putting it is that I am trying to find a path or direction. I have tried mind mapping the thoughts around the search. I have tried talking to someone about the decision. Nothing really seems to help me find the clarity that I am looking for. Which leads me to my last place of discourse. My interview with Oprah.
Years ago, when I had time and a television, I would watch Oprah Winfrey interview people on her show. She would ask questions and people would open up to her. Somewhere along the way clarity about what ever it was that they were discussing would appear. I would say around five years ago I started to have time in the car when there was no one else with me and I would talk to Oprah about what ever was going on. She never asked a question I did not want to answer and somehow I would find the clarity I needed to better understand what was going on in my world.
I know that I have mentioned this before in an earlier post. As I drive down the road seeing people talking on hands free devices I know that I do not look strange talking to myself. This particular problem I am struggling with seems to be one of those that requires a series of interviews.
I am not sure exactly why I brought this up here. I think it has to do with communication and feeling overwhelmed. I know that if left to fester on its own my mind will create a labyrinth of problems from one small question. Talking to others about what is going on in my life and the problems or issues that come up helps to untangle that mess of thoughts. The real bonus part of my conversations with Oprah is that I am not insulting anyone as I make my way through the confusion that I am untangling. I have a tendency to just start talking and say what comes up. I do this primarily when I am talking to people I know well. This sort of thing happens often when talking to my husband. Primarily because whatever we are talking about generally results in a knee jerk response from me. When I talk to Oprah I have a chance to recover from that fateful foot in mouth syndrome. Because sometimes all I need is to just let loose with a stream of consciousness conversation with someone who asks the right questions.
When I am struggling with depression and all the trappings that go with it I lose touch with people. I forget that I need to communicate with people and bring all the darkness into the light. I have found that for somethings that have to do with the trauma I need to talk out loud. I need to hear my voice. But I don’t need anyone else to hear or understand about my trauma. I just need to say it out loud. As though the sheer act of putting it out there is all I need. And having an imaginary listener who is neither shocked nor traumatized is really all I want.
I will continue on my journey of trying to find this path that is being so elusive. I will continue to try to find the answers. And I think that on my drive home I will be having a long talk with Oprah.
During this past week I had a really bad day. I dealt with emotional vampires and people just trying to make trouble. At the end of that day I just wanted to grab a bag of Oreos and just hide under my blankets. The day triggered a lot of depression issues for me and left me struggling to find a safe place.
As I look back I can see that there really were a lot of other things at play that day. There were a lot of signals pointing toward a depression meltdown. I just was not paying attention. The days leading up to that fateful day were filled with signs like my wanting to sleep and not get up, not caring about certain activities that usually fill me with happy thoughts, and either wanting to eat too much or not at all. I was not paying attention and let my guard down.
I think everyone has those signs. The ones that alert us to danger. It would be nice if I had a soundtrack that played threatening music right before I had to encounter troublesome people or when I am not paying attention to my depression. But, alas, I do not have a soundtrack. I will have to play closer attention to the warning signs of impending depression events and try to guard myself more closely.
I have tried to create a ritual that will help me stay focused. I have a very small yoga practice in the morning and in the evening before bed. I do deep cleansing breaths (When I am not struggling to breathe from my asthma). And I have considered giving up chocolate. Although giving up chocolate is still very much being debated. The trick with having what feels like chronic depression is finding a way to feel as good as possible and take care of myself.
I am feeling trepidation about this upcoming week. Will I have to deal with the same people? Will there be more situations that set me off? Is there a way for me to “duck and cover” and still get the things done that I need to? My daughter gave me great advice this morning. She said, “Don’t over think it.”
This week’s goal is to breathe, stay present, and be courageous.
Depression is a very heavy burden to carry. Lately I have been thinking about what it is like to carry something so heavy and have no idea how to put it down. Sometimes I am pretty sure that I cannot put it down. I began to think about something I said in a previous post about sharing the load. I have been made aware of all the people who care about me recently.
I have been made aware of this through my realization of all the people I care about. There are very many people that I love and care about. Some of them I see once in a while and there are others that I see everyday. Since losing someone I knew I have begun to think about how much each of these people in my life mean to me. And also how much I want to reach out to them. I am a praying type of person. I pray for myself and others. I also started trying to think of ways that I could reach out to others. For this I spend time just meditating or for me just thinking about that person and letting things flow through my mind in an endless stream of consciousness.
You may be wondering how this pertains to depression. I have found that the more I am able to reach out from myself and give or reach toward someone I am dividing my depression. I am having to create and use energy to help or reach someone else. For me depression is the antithesis of energy. It is an energy drain. It sucks all of my life force out and makes it so that I cannot get out of bed. But here is where trying to do something for someone else plays in, I am getting up to do something for someone else. Most of the time it is getting up to be with my children or to care for them. There is often a time when I need to have a bigger picture because sometime even that is not enough.
By dividing my depression up and giving it energy I can usually get through the hard stuff. I also know that as much as I love and care for so many people in my life there is a return of all that love. This is where the day to day stuff begins to require real energy and courage. Courage to get up out of bed and remember that I have not always felt this way. And to remember that I will not always feel this way. It also takes courage to take the hand that is offered to you out of love and friendship.