Last night my depression slump suddenly "disappeared". So glad! It wasn't anything earth shattering of sudden moments of exquisite joy but rather a thought of something to do. Yes, it is that simple.
With that said, many people would hold to their belief that depression is something you can just "get over", "if you'd get up and do something you wouldn't be depressed", or the ever popular "you obviously just want to be this way, you could change if you wanted to". I've heard all three my whole life. Yes, my WHOLE life since I've had bouts of depression since I think 12. There are a few years of childhood I don't remember, I'm not sure if there is a real reason for that or if it is simply that nothing magnanimous happened during those years so why bother. I also say 12 for that is when I started my menstruation. My hormones have been a veritable mess since. I didn't know any better so I never mentioned any of it until I went to see an OB/GYN before I got married. You see I started at 12 and than it suddenly wasn't there anymore. I honestly didn't think about it - I just went back to the way I was and was happy not to worry or plan. It came back when I was in 8th grade - so when I was 13, almost 14 and it came back with a VENGEANCE. From then on and until I went on the pill at 21 I was constantly irregular, lucky if it showed up each month - made it very frustrating. I was regular -for me, meaning I at least had one every month but no, not when the pills dictated. Than after 3 yrs, my body would totally start to ignore the pills and I was back to having a cycle when it wanted.
Why the lengthy "cycle" chat? To give a little bit of background. Granted men don't have "cycles" but I'm the mother of two teenage boys and you cannot tell me that their hormones don't go whacky just like a females, I believe it has simply never been explored - it always has another name, a "mood", an "episode", or "anger".
Depression is no respecter of people. It doesn't care if you are male or female, in shape or jiggly, tall or short; hair color, eye color, race or nationality - it doesn't care. I read something once that told me that if I was "depressed" that I had obviously "sinned" and needed to repent and ask for forgiveness and than the Lord's blessings would lift the depression from me. For years I searched for "what" I had done to sin against God. I have little flaws, giant flaws, small sins but none that I ever would consider worthy of being "punished" by God until I asked for forgiveness. I definitely can buy that guilt can be a depression catalyst, no doubt about it. However, to lump all depression in with that is wrong. Sometimes depression just is.
I take medication for my depression, for anxiety; I had both before I had PTSD but no where near the level they reached with my PTSD. I always tried what everyone else told me, what my father taught me, I "picked myself up by my bootstraps" and carried on. In other words, I ignored it and it didn't go away. It built, it festered, it grew and one day I woke up and thought I had lost my freaking mind. I couldn't handle ANYTHING, which for a control freak, recovering perfectionist - is like a death sentence. I suddenly had no control over my life, my emotions (they came whether I took medication or not, whether I wanted them to or not), it felt like I literally could not even control my household or my kids. Medication is okay people, for short term. Seeking alternative medicine to help is okay. Acknowledging that there is something wrong with you that you can no longer control, is necessary.
It is my belief that anyone who tells you they've been depressed and they simply "got over it" by positive thinking, etc, they were never truly depressed. Sad maybe, grieving, disappointed even but not depressed. Because depression is chemical. Depression is the result of something in your brain not firing correctly or not being received and it is capitulated by bad self talk, bad self esteem, unworthy and unholy thoughts. Because society has led us to believe that if we are depressed, we are bad. We must deserve it, we must have done something wrong, we must be being punished by God for sin. I'm sorry, the God I believe in loves me and doesn't want me to be in pain. I have felt his arms around me in moments of deepest grief when no one else cared to even try to comfort me. I am not being punished, is this a trial? Most definitely. Will it end? I'm hopeful. See? Today I have hope whereas yesterday I didn't care. I wasn't being lazy, I seriously had no energy, no motivation, no ...nothing, I was depressed. Why? It didn't have a name this round, it simply came and stayed for about a week and I am grateful that for today at least, it packed up and took a vacation. It might be a mini vacation, or it might be an extended - I'm kind of hoping it's extended you see there are things I want to do, want to accomplish, need to finish. Those thoughts and feelings don't leave when you are depressed, the fact that you can't do them, can't really do anything simply makes you feel worse but you still know that "you" are inside.
I have had to learn and I am now 43 - so it has taken 30 years for me to fully accept my depression, anxiety, and PTSD. For me to get upset when people look down on me for not being "happy" all the time. I've realized that it isn't about me, it's about THEM. They need to have happy people around them because they don't have the fortitude to keep themselves happy "all the time" and its easier when others are around. They are the ones that believe it is "bad" to have depression when in fact, I have to wonder if it isn't something they struggle and fight to avoid. You often criticize that in others which you don't like in yourself. Remember that, accept that, and let them continue to fight away from you because you don't need their poison adding to the self hate you already have.
Be happy for the good days - acknowledge them, embrace them, and get all that you can accomplished when they show up. Than be gentle with yourself when the depression hits, because more often than not, there is nothing you can do about it but gather those you love around you and ride it out.
Paix
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Good Reading
All three of these books are Kindle Editions and I figured out how to share them if you have a Kindle or Cloud account! So let me know! :)
Long Time Coming by Edie Claire
I downloaded this one for free and than let sit there. Interesting how we do that isn't it? The story takes place when a daughter returns home to help ailing parents. Home to where she must face her fears, her slight PTSD, and the truth. Reconnecting with old friends, ghosts (literally) from her past, and even a crotchedy old man, all help her to overcome, accept, and move on to fulfill the life that she should have always had.
That is a really small, short synopsis of a really well written book. It doesn't delve deeply into the anxiety, depression, or PTSD but it touches on them, some symptoms, so that if you live it day in and out, you will recognize and associate with it. It moves you through the process of dealing with memories, nightmares, and how the main character deals with these problems, even through the living of day to day life. It has romance, a little suspense, a little bit of supernatural, and a great ending.
Kiss of Fire by Rebecca Ethington
This looked like a romance novel to me so I downloaded it and was VERY pleasantly surprised! In fact, I have decided I will let Olivia read it, anytime she wants. This is the story of a beautiful girl, marked at the age of 5. This mark or scar has driven her entire life. Her parents divorced over it, she hides it from everyone and therefore, hides herself. The book is set in her Junior yr in High School where she learns what the mark is, that there are others like her, that it isn't something to be ashamed of, that it isn't "bad" to want to look or allow yourself to be beautiful.
There is some great humor in this book, plus I was right, a little love story. Yet it is a teenage, real teenage, love story between two that have been friends for 12 yrs. It is a story of acceptance of others and of yourself. It tells of how to be different, yet acknowledge that it is a good thing, and that you shouldn't allow anyone to bully you.
A Different Blue by Amy Harmon
I grew up with Amy's big sister and know Amy from doing a weeks teaching course in her 8th grade Advanced English class when I was a Senior in High School. Amy is BEYOND talented in so many ways and I am very fortunate to be able to not just know her but to reap the benefit of her talents. As I've mentioned, there is nothing more fun than touting someone's name far and wide, especially when they are a good, normal person and deserve it. I've heard about this book for months, I've OWNED this book on my kindle for MONTHS and finally decided it was time to read it. Can you say, "Shoulda had a V-8" thunk moment? I absolutely loved Blue.
Blue is a wonderful in-depth character who is the product of her life. She believes her life is fated from the childhood she received and that she is unworthy of love because of it. Due to a mentor/ teacher who takes the time to understand, listen, and assist; she begins to realize who she really is and what she can accomplish with her life. She finds God and his atonement, she takes responsibility for her mistakes and consequences and discovers that her life really wasn't what the "child" in her envisioned it to be. It was however, a beautiful gift, that allows her to be a different Blue.
Long Time Coming by Edie Claire
That is a really small, short synopsis of a really well written book. It doesn't delve deeply into the anxiety, depression, or PTSD but it touches on them, some symptoms, so that if you live it day in and out, you will recognize and associate with it. It moves you through the process of dealing with memories, nightmares, and how the main character deals with these problems, even through the living of day to day life. It has romance, a little suspense, a little bit of supernatural, and a great ending.
Kiss of Fire by Rebecca Ethington
There is some great humor in this book, plus I was right, a little love story. Yet it is a teenage, real teenage, love story between two that have been friends for 12 yrs. It is a story of acceptance of others and of yourself. It tells of how to be different, yet acknowledge that it is a good thing, and that you shouldn't allow anyone to bully you.
A Different Blue by Amy Harmon
I grew up with Amy's big sister and know Amy from doing a weeks teaching course in her 8th grade Advanced English class when I was a Senior in High School. Amy is BEYOND talented in so many ways and I am very fortunate to be able to not just know her but to reap the benefit of her talents. As I've mentioned, there is nothing more fun than touting someone's name far and wide, especially when they are a good, normal person and deserve it. I've heard about this book for months, I've OWNED this book on my kindle for MONTHS and finally decided it was time to read it. Can you say, "Shoulda had a V-8" thunk moment? I absolutely loved Blue.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Sorting through muddled thoughts
The previous video embed by group Within Temptation, Stand My Ground; pretty much embraces how I feel these days. "Stand my ground I won't give in, I won't give up"... with so much unknown about PTSD by the public mainly (we won't discuss by the doctors) it is up to each of us to stand our ground and fight for ourselves. No one else will, no one else really can. People that love you try to be there for you but as I realized this week, they can be TOO close to the situation. Makes sense right? When you are faced with being there day after day, seeing the shifts, not understanding all the triggers, you become like who you are watching; confused, unsure, and let's face it: lost.
I haven't been able to see my reflexologist in a couple of months and I know I have major blocks that are making me experience my emotions - more. Definition of more: a greater or additional amount or degree. I learned 5 years ago that when my body life force is unblocked and flowing as it should, I have the strength to handle things a little bit better. I have noticed - quite by accident - that when some area blocks are opened and not the whole body's that it throws me into fits, weird fits. Like neon lights going off adrenaline fits.
It has been an interesting week. I survived the Salt Lake Comic Con - with 3 breaks in area's not as crowded, leaving early, and not going to see the panels we wanted. But that's okay! I did it! I went! Not just for me but for my kids! What does that mean? That means I can't face my 25 yr High School Reunion tonight and tomorrow. It means I can't face going to my husbands cousin's wedding next week because it involves travel and lots of family! Family that doesn't understand and I'm not strong enough to withstand judging at this time, same reason of the reunion. I wrote a note to 3 friends that I would love to have seen, explaining to them why I wouldn't be there. One my best friend from High School that I don't understand why she doesn't have PTSD she has been through more than I have and yet, there I go, I'm judging and we can't. Remember, everyone's experiences are different, viewed differently by their soul and therein lies why no one wants to talk about their trauma. Okay, besides the fact that hello it's TRAUMATIC - why put yourself back where you just climbed out of? Each of us looks at our situation, decides it doesn't deserve the attention of a disorder, feels that we should be stronger than what we see ourselves, and than, yeah, crash, burn, fallout and you get the picture.
I thought, because Tuesday was a good day, that I was getting better. That it had only taken me really 2 days to get over Comic Con and that my symptoms weren't that bad! I like to delude myself, can you tell? Sigh. I reached out to my PTSD mentor that I met on Facebook, through his page, PTSD Reclaiming Yourself for Good. I don't think it was necessarily anything he said after I heard, "Okay, I'm here." Those words didn't fix it but having someone who understood my anger trigger, not what the trigger was but that the trigger existed and was fully unexplainable, it was weight lifting. I wasn't alone, I wasn't an enigma, strange, or deranged. People are brought into your life for a reason, and I'm grateful that through his page, I can read and hear about others going through what I am. I found another great page PTSD and Me - written by a wife and husband. It's more her page but he comments and its wonderful when he does. PTSD isn't just about those who have it, but those who love those that have it also. My daughter is now 13, the age my oldest son was when all this started for me. I remember him having a difficult time understanding and now, even though this has been going on since she was 6, my daughter is having those difficulties. It will be interesting. I'm not sure I want to go through the continual explaining of why I can't take her somewhere, won't watch a movie, why Dad is dropping something off instead of me. I can push myself and try to be what she wants me to be and when - and than I will crash and put myself back 3 paces from the ground I had gained. There has to be a middle ground.
I haven't been able to see my reflexologist in a couple of months and I know I have major blocks that are making me experience my emotions - more. Definition of more: a greater or additional amount or degree. I learned 5 years ago that when my body life force is unblocked and flowing as it should, I have the strength to handle things a little bit better. I have noticed - quite by accident - that when some area blocks are opened and not the whole body's that it throws me into fits, weird fits. Like neon lights going off adrenaline fits.
It has been an interesting week. I survived the Salt Lake Comic Con - with 3 breaks in area's not as crowded, leaving early, and not going to see the panels we wanted. But that's okay! I did it! I went! Not just for me but for my kids! What does that mean? That means I can't face my 25 yr High School Reunion tonight and tomorrow. It means I can't face going to my husbands cousin's wedding next week because it involves travel and lots of family! Family that doesn't understand and I'm not strong enough to withstand judging at this time, same reason of the reunion. I wrote a note to 3 friends that I would love to have seen, explaining to them why I wouldn't be there. One my best friend from High School that I don't understand why she doesn't have PTSD she has been through more than I have and yet, there I go, I'm judging and we can't. Remember, everyone's experiences are different, viewed differently by their soul and therein lies why no one wants to talk about their trauma. Okay, besides the fact that hello it's TRAUMATIC - why put yourself back where you just climbed out of? Each of us looks at our situation, decides it doesn't deserve the attention of a disorder, feels that we should be stronger than what we see ourselves, and than, yeah, crash, burn, fallout and you get the picture.
I thought, because Tuesday was a good day, that I was getting better. That it had only taken me really 2 days to get over Comic Con and that my symptoms weren't that bad! I like to delude myself, can you tell? Sigh. I reached out to my PTSD mentor that I met on Facebook, through his page, PTSD Reclaiming Yourself for Good. I don't think it was necessarily anything he said after I heard, "Okay, I'm here." Those words didn't fix it but having someone who understood my anger trigger, not what the trigger was but that the trigger existed and was fully unexplainable, it was weight lifting. I wasn't alone, I wasn't an enigma, strange, or deranged. People are brought into your life for a reason, and I'm grateful that through his page, I can read and hear about others going through what I am. I found another great page PTSD and Me - written by a wife and husband. It's more her page but he comments and its wonderful when he does. PTSD isn't just about those who have it, but those who love those that have it also. My daughter is now 13, the age my oldest son was when all this started for me. I remember him having a difficult time understanding and now, even though this has been going on since she was 6, my daughter is having those difficulties. It will be interesting. I'm not sure I want to go through the continual explaining of why I can't take her somewhere, won't watch a movie, why Dad is dropping something off instead of me. I can push myself and try to be what she wants me to be and when - and than I will crash and put myself back 3 paces from the ground I had gained. There has to be a middle ground.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Water Revelations
I post a lot of pictures on Facebook of water, here are a few of them. I love water. It signifies peace, tranquility, and joy to me. I spent years going to self help classes, relaxation courses, and all would tell me "go to your happy place". I love being outdoors; therefore, I figured my "happy place" had green foliage but honestly that was all I could ever conjure up. I'd never been "relaxed" enough to "find" my happy place, ever. I have a little embroidery picture a friend made me that says, "I can't relax! Stress is what holds me together!". How unfortunately TRUE that statement. During one specific Women's Workshop we had to take a test on just how stressed you were. The asked show of hand scores. Came down to just me with my hand up - the teacher had already said "anything over this number is unhealthy". She quizzically looked at me and when I revealed my score she about fell on the floor and asked how I could be sitting there, let alone looking so calm. Because I wasn't? Calm that is, I hardly ever am. At that point in life, I remember it exactly, I had a 2 yr old potty training, a new infant boy, my husband had just changed jobs, and my dad's cancer had just come back. There were many more items on the list but these were those that added the "most" stress to life and yep, I had them all.. oh and postpartum depression. Fun. My husband was concerned enough at that time to call my mom, once and see if she would go over and sit with me. That worked well....NOT. My mom, slightly depressed herself had no idea why she needed to come "watch" me and left after about an hour. Needless to say, by the time my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder kicked in, I was already overflowing with the stress part.
I've been seeing my reflexologist for about 5 yrs now. I am a LONG way from the person I was when I first saw her. About 2 yrs ago? Time isn't relevant to me anymore, I can't differentiate days once they've past anymore; I believe it was 2 yrs ago, during a Sacrum-Cranial appointment, she got me to where I had NEVER in my recollective life have ever been - relaxed. So relaxed in fact that SHE fell asleep - ha ha ha - that in itself is a miracle as I usually make her want to throw up or take many breaks (work related- hard to explain but it's not gross!). I admit, I probably could have fallen asleep but my trust level even with her, still would not give that control up. It did though, send me to my "happy place" - finally! I knew what it was, where it was and how wonderful it really is to go there! Where is it? In the water. Starting to understand my pictures now? In my happy place I am floating on my back in a body of water that is - yes, overhung with green foliage. There are places through the foliage where the sun can peek through. It's a magical place to me.
Here's the kicker....water - especially floating - is part of my PTSD. When I was about 7 I almost drown. I was hanging onto the side of an apartment complex pool, brothers and sisters in and out of the pool, people all around. My older sister floated by and I let go of the side of the pool, reaching out to her. Right as I reached her floaty, she rolled off the opposite way. With nothing to hold onto, under the water I went. I'd never been in a swimming pool before - ever, I didn't know what to do. Interestingly enough, I remember looking up and seeing my brothers at the side of the pool talking, looking at me under the water and I thought, "hello? anyone help me?". I don't know how but for some reason I saw my brother dive in and pull me up and out. I got in trouble. "That was dumb of me, why didn't I come back up to the surface? Why didn't I kick my legs?" Because I was 7 and didn't know?!?!? I coughed up the water, was given a towel and was sent back to the apartment, no longer welcome at the pool. Meh, its life or at least it is my life.
When I was 15 I was a nanny for my sister and her husband offered to teach me to swim. "I can teach you he boasted" and than after I nearly drown him and myself - again- he decided I was unteachable. Our friends David & Linda have a community pool and ask me constantly if I am coming swimming - yes they have accomplished what none other since having my daughter - they have gotten me in a swim suit and in the pool. With the help of a "noodle" I float around twisting my legs but when I raise my legs up to waist level, my trigger kicks in, panic ensues and I about drown myself again. Sigh - I still have hopes that ONE day I can experience my happy place in real life. For now, I post pictures, I dream and wish and that will do. Paix
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Interesting Life
Every now and than I look and my life, the people who have come into it, follow it, and/or have come back and am stunned. The negative part of my brain that was arguing with me this morning looks at this and scoffs, makes fun, tells me that it is simply a rare instance and won't last long. The positive side (the side I try desperately to keep in touch with but it is rare these days) tells me simply "why not?" What is so different of me from anyone else out there that I can't experience good friendships, amazing friend finds and in my own small little world have new links to authors, musicians, and others who share my trials with PTSD? Why the heck not?!?! The positive side is thrilled, a little in awe, and loves the fact that new people are showing up and old friends are returning. The negative side tells me, "It won't last long, don't get used to it". Well, =P to my negative side - because I love getting to know new people, finding new books, new music and finding the "regular" people behind these wonderful gifts to the world. The fact that there are regular people and not snotty celebrities brings me immense joy! Still leaves me in a bit of awe but as long as I keep myself in check and don't "overstep" any friendship lines, (or scare them away with my PTSD comments :S ) than I believe there is a significant amount of value that we can share together - for each other. I may not be famous or a published author; yet, I feel every person has something to share in life and that anyone that comes into your life, no matter when or how, is there for a reason and there for each other to "rub off" if you will, a bit of ourselves on each other. Rubbing footprints into hearts, minds, on souls...positivity and love.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Piecing things together
Many people want to know "why" I would have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. No I have never been a soldier or at war, I did want to join the Air Force and took the test in High School with one other girl and a bunch of laughing boys (laughing at the 2 females). The recruiters didn't though and I'm proud to say that when the recruiters came back they told the guys to "shut it" because the 2 females beat out almost everyone of them score wise. Why didn't I do it? Eye sight mainly. I have always had horrible eyesight and they wouldn't let me fly, that is what I wanted to do - fly, like my father who was an Army Helicopter Pilot.
Back on subject...one of the things people need to understand about PTSD is that it isn't always just "one" thing that triggers the illness. Most times, like with mine, many stressors and mini-trauma's in my life combined into the point where my soul and my brain just said "NO MORE" and I literally felt like I broke. My psychologist favorite comment to make was "You didn't have a nervous breakdown, because nerves don't break". 0.o hmph could have fooled my body! What are those trauma's and stressors? Different for each person which is why no one can understand you or your pain - it is YOURS. Everyone handles things differently, what may be "nothing" to you, could be the final straw to someone else that leads them down the road to needing help. Besides, in my view point, I am not going to "list" my trauma's to you, "HELLO, what part of the fact they were traumatizing did you not get"? Finding new doctors, therapists, anything will always set who I'm going to call a "survivor" back because they all make you retell - therefore, reliving your trauma. Most people consider that "helpful" but not always. Each time I have to "retell" every single one of my "points of life", I am so proud of myself thinking I did such a good job! "pat on the back time" Than about 2 hours later my world crashes down around me again and it lasts about 2 to 3 days - not such a good job after all.
In order to get better, I have had to do some major mental work. It isn't easy and it is down right painful. Facing things that your subconscious deliberately pushed to the back of your mind, looking through it again and again to find the truth, the answer that YOU need out of it. No one can find it for you, which makes this a very lonely illness. People want to help but there really isn't anything anyone can do - but be there. We aren't the easiest of people to always be around with major mood swings, sudden depression, sometimes violent tendencies but the fact that someone cares enough to still be standing there when that episode stops says everything. I know that if there are violent tendencies it is better to leave the person alone, please don't be around them, they don't need the guilt of hurting you physically when they weren't able to help it. There is medicine to help with that and counseling. The main thing you have to remember is the person you love/d is still in there, they are simply going through a living hell that they have to manouver and navigate themselves. Others can be there to guide and assist, but in the end, its your brain, your pain, and up to you to sort it out and figure out what you can forgive of others, of yourself, and what you can live with.
Back on subject...one of the things people need to understand about PTSD is that it isn't always just "one" thing that triggers the illness. Most times, like with mine, many stressors and mini-trauma's in my life combined into the point where my soul and my brain just said "NO MORE" and I literally felt like I broke. My psychologist favorite comment to make was "You didn't have a nervous breakdown, because nerves don't break". 0.o hmph could have fooled my body! What are those trauma's and stressors? Different for each person which is why no one can understand you or your pain - it is YOURS. Everyone handles things differently, what may be "nothing" to you, could be the final straw to someone else that leads them down the road to needing help. Besides, in my view point, I am not going to "list" my trauma's to you, "HELLO, what part of the fact they were traumatizing did you not get"? Finding new doctors, therapists, anything will always set who I'm going to call a "survivor" back because they all make you retell - therefore, reliving your trauma. Most people consider that "helpful" but not always. Each time I have to "retell" every single one of my "points of life", I am so proud of myself thinking I did such a good job! "pat on the back time" Than about 2 hours later my world crashes down around me again and it lasts about 2 to 3 days - not such a good job after all.
In order to get better, I have had to do some major mental work. It isn't easy and it is down right painful. Facing things that your subconscious deliberately pushed to the back of your mind, looking through it again and again to find the truth, the answer that YOU need out of it. No one can find it for you, which makes this a very lonely illness. People want to help but there really isn't anything anyone can do - but be there. We aren't the easiest of people to always be around with major mood swings, sudden depression, sometimes violent tendencies but the fact that someone cares enough to still be standing there when that episode stops says everything. I know that if there are violent tendencies it is better to leave the person alone, please don't be around them, they don't need the guilt of hurting you physically when they weren't able to help it. There is medicine to help with that and counseling. The main thing you have to remember is the person you love/d is still in there, they are simply going through a living hell that they have to manouver and navigate themselves. Others can be there to guide and assist, but in the end, its your brain, your pain, and up to you to sort it out and figure out what you can forgive of others, of yourself, and what you can live with.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Unmatched power and majesty
My sister, one of the ones that has a hard time thinking of me as anything but myself; therefore, I don't have a problem or symptoms that aren't just a regular part of life. Anyway, she borrowed a book from the library for me to read. At first I wasn't sure I wanted to, my anxiety is still pretty strong though I take no medication for it anymore. I love books like this, yet have not read one since those my brother had once read - lets just say, well over a decade. The book is entitled Visions of Glory and is a book about one man's three near death experiences and the thinness of the veil between the spirit world and the mortal world since than, for him.
I suppose some slight history might be necessary - I fear this writing shall be long, too long for some with PTSD to fully sit through, don't give up, take it in small chunks. I am the youngest of eight children, born 5 yrs after my closest sibling. My dad retired from his career military when I was two, so while I did not travel as much as the rest of my family, we still moved often. Until the day my dad flew over this small town and saw this BIG, OLD house and fell in love. He than uprooted us, since his work was not in the current town and moved us there. We moved into, at the time, a 104 yr old house that had once been part of the original fort of the town. In the olden days it was considered a mansion, but simply due to size since it only had, 2 normal size bedrooms, 2 tiny bedrooms, 1 1/2 bath, kitchen, pantry, family room and living room. The basement was not even 1/3 of the size of the foundation. I could add a lot of things about the town, the house, perception, etc but that is off track of this telling so I will leave those for another time. Needless to say, old houses equal old haunts, literally. I have only one memory of where we lived before I was two. I remember the day we moved at two and have sparatic memories at best from than on. I was eight when we moved into the scary, large house that made A LOT of noises. Being the youngest, my older siblings were not patient with me (not many older siblings are), would tease me about my fears, and would try to "grow me up" by making me let go of my mother and face my fears alone. Wanting their approval and all of this is very normal in any family, I did what they taunted me to do. What I did not understand though was that this old house was haunted. I know that many do not believe in hauntings, yet I am here to verify that there is a spirit (ghost most would call) that lives in our mortal bodies and that when the flesh dies, this spirit is set free. From the teachings of my church I know very little of the spirit world, except that it is still here, on this earth and because of the natural man, most are unable to see it, feel it, or confirm its existence. Many struggle daily and have made it their lifes work to uncover the spirit world or "catch" technologically something from the "other side". Those of us who have experienced interactions with, can either be frightened or enlightened. I chose to be enlightened. I am not saying that living in a haunted house was not frightening or at times terrifying, I am saying that as I have grown in mind and body, I have accepted and acknowledge that which must exist for life to continue on, as I hold in my beliefs.
Due to growing up in a haunted house and other experiences in my growing up years and since my PTSD, the reading of this book has made me very emotional. Things you feel and yet do not know how to express are suddenly shown to me as I read. I am not saying that I have had a near death experience for I have not. Yet I do not believe that one has to almost die to have the gifts of the spirit world opened occasionally. I have thought long and hard about what going through all of this has meant, for what purpose and for good can I bring from it? My mind sticks saying I don't have the right words anymore, the presence, for who am I to think I can do this and why? I do not know my role here, I simply know that I can help if I am allowed. If I am in tune and open, I have a wonderful gift of discernment that for years have granted me access to other peoples lives. I often have wondered why people feel they can tell me anything, share with me private thoughts and emotions and it has humbled me to no end when they do. I honestly do not know if anything I say to them helps in any way, yet if it would only allow them a moment of peace or a thought to a solution that they find through chatting, than it is worth it to me. I won't know until I pass this life I guess whether or not it was all me just being full of myself or whether I really assisted someone, somewhere in healing, thinking, or finding solutions. I really hope it is the latter, I have enough faults that constantly play through my mind that I find adding more to the list decimates me and throws me into depression.
The title of the book is Visions of Glory as told to John Pontius. It is available in the US in the public libraries to borrow; therefore, I am sure it is available on the internet to purchase. I shall be looking to find it there, for I am only on page 56 and have already found myself searching for paper and pen, highlighter, anything so that I can go back and revisit the clarity a passage brought to me. I, as anyone else who reads it, need to remember that it is one man's revelation regarding his life. Each of us is privy to our own and shouldn't look to someone else's as predictions of the future. Their life and future may have nothing to do with our own. To quote on of my dad's favorite poems "Bag of Tools"...
I suppose some slight history might be necessary - I fear this writing shall be long, too long for some with PTSD to fully sit through, don't give up, take it in small chunks. I am the youngest of eight children, born 5 yrs after my closest sibling. My dad retired from his career military when I was two, so while I did not travel as much as the rest of my family, we still moved often. Until the day my dad flew over this small town and saw this BIG, OLD house and fell in love. He than uprooted us, since his work was not in the current town and moved us there. We moved into, at the time, a 104 yr old house that had once been part of the original fort of the town. In the olden days it was considered a mansion, but simply due to size since it only had, 2 normal size bedrooms, 2 tiny bedrooms, 1 1/2 bath, kitchen, pantry, family room and living room. The basement was not even 1/3 of the size of the foundation. I could add a lot of things about the town, the house, perception, etc but that is off track of this telling so I will leave those for another time. Needless to say, old houses equal old haunts, literally. I have only one memory of where we lived before I was two. I remember the day we moved at two and have sparatic memories at best from than on. I was eight when we moved into the scary, large house that made A LOT of noises. Being the youngest, my older siblings were not patient with me (not many older siblings are), would tease me about my fears, and would try to "grow me up" by making me let go of my mother and face my fears alone. Wanting their approval and all of this is very normal in any family, I did what they taunted me to do. What I did not understand though was that this old house was haunted. I know that many do not believe in hauntings, yet I am here to verify that there is a spirit (ghost most would call) that lives in our mortal bodies and that when the flesh dies, this spirit is set free. From the teachings of my church I know very little of the spirit world, except that it is still here, on this earth and because of the natural man, most are unable to see it, feel it, or confirm its existence. Many struggle daily and have made it their lifes work to uncover the spirit world or "catch" technologically something from the "other side". Those of us who have experienced interactions with, can either be frightened or enlightened. I chose to be enlightened. I am not saying that living in a haunted house was not frightening or at times terrifying, I am saying that as I have grown in mind and body, I have accepted and acknowledge that which must exist for life to continue on, as I hold in my beliefs.
Due to growing up in a haunted house and other experiences in my growing up years and since my PTSD, the reading of this book has made me very emotional. Things you feel and yet do not know how to express are suddenly shown to me as I read. I am not saying that I have had a near death experience for I have not. Yet I do not believe that one has to almost die to have the gifts of the spirit world opened occasionally. I have thought long and hard about what going through all of this has meant, for what purpose and for good can I bring from it? My mind sticks saying I don't have the right words anymore, the presence, for who am I to think I can do this and why? I do not know my role here, I simply know that I can help if I am allowed. If I am in tune and open, I have a wonderful gift of discernment that for years have granted me access to other peoples lives. I often have wondered why people feel they can tell me anything, share with me private thoughts and emotions and it has humbled me to no end when they do. I honestly do not know if anything I say to them helps in any way, yet if it would only allow them a moment of peace or a thought to a solution that they find through chatting, than it is worth it to me. I won't know until I pass this life I guess whether or not it was all me just being full of myself or whether I really assisted someone, somewhere in healing, thinking, or finding solutions. I really hope it is the latter, I have enough faults that constantly play through my mind that I find adding more to the list decimates me and throws me into depression.
The title of the book is Visions of Glory as told to John Pontius. It is available in the US in the public libraries to borrow; therefore, I am sure it is available on the internet to purchase. I shall be looking to find it there, for I am only on page 56 and have already found myself searching for paper and pen, highlighter, anything so that I can go back and revisit the clarity a passage brought to me. I, as anyone else who reads it, need to remember that it is one man's revelation regarding his life. Each of us is privy to our own and shouldn't look to someone else's as predictions of the future. Their life and future may have nothing to do with our own. To quote on of my dad's favorite poems "Bag of Tools"...
Isn't it strange how princes and kings,
and clowns that caper in sawdust rings,
and common people, like you and me,
are builders for eternity?
Each is given a list of rules;
a shapeless mass; a bag of tools.
And each must fashion, ere life is flown,
A stumbling block, or a Stepping-Stone.
-RL Sharpe
and clowns that caper in sawdust rings,
and common people, like you and me,
are builders for eternity?
Each is given a list of rules;
a shapeless mass; a bag of tools.
And each must fashion, ere life is flown,
A stumbling block, or a Stepping-Stone.
-RL Sharpe
Yes, isn't it strange. Paix (peace)
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Feeling Messed Up
Two thoughts are challenging each other in my mind for speak out, yet while the one is what is currently causing my crash and will be continually happening, the other needs to finally be said.
When you are known as a fierce mama bear, when you would give and do anything for your children, when you are known in the family for not even letting them travel out of state without you to visit family for over a week; how than do you handle your oldest leaving for a church mission for 2 yrs?
I'm not sure I can explain but I am willing to try. I thought I had my son for at least one more year before he left on his mission, than the Prophet announced that the age for missionaries has been changed to allow 18 yr old missionaries into the field. My heart knew it was Anthony sent. He was lost, the youngest of his friends and would have been left 1 yr home before he could join his friends in the mission field. He had no job, knew he wasn't supposed to be in school - he was straggling and looking for answers. One day on the way home from work I told him that maybe God had something else for him and was sure he would tell him soon. The announcement came a week later. He immediately set out to get everything done so that he could turn in his papers along with his friends. His call came in 10 days later (unheard of) at the end of November and we had until mid-January to get him ready and drop him at the MTC. Leaving ahead of all his friends except one.
I love all my children, I am an obsessive mom. However, as my oldest, Anthony and I have developed a certain relationship. He has seen me at my PTSD worst and was there when it started, old enough to remember and to understand and be scared. Not fully understanding, he, like my other son Ben, have learned to accept and just deal. Unlike Ben, Anthony talked to me. Unlike his friends to their moms, my son told me when he made mistakes, when he had questions, when he just wanted to straighten it out in his mind. He became almost my best friend although I must say lol, most times he would look at what I wanted to say and comment: Talk to someone else about that. =]
Speeding through getting him ready helped me to not focus on it. I have always been the type that can repress feelings, one of the reasons I believe that my PTSD took so long to hit and why it hit so out of the blue and hard. It's my coping mechanism and it fits against my PTSD that wants to let every emotion out, cry whenever or whatever, etc. So how do I handle my son being gone? Honestly, I don't feel it. I don't allow myself to. I know that he is where he is supposed to be, doing what he needs to and in the Lord's hands. If I allow myself to start thinking about what could happen to him I will be back where I was 6 years ago. It hits me, out of the blue, every now and than. Like on the way into work this morning, no clue where my mind was or what brought the thought in but as I was driving up the street an image or memory of something my son and I had done (probably traveling the road since he took me to work many times) and it slammed me. He's gone, he's not here, I can't touch him, hear him, hold him and it literally felt like someone stabbed me with a knife right in the heart. The pain hit, my eyes instantly watered up and than I repressed it. I can't do this, I can't allow it, I can't think that way. How cold does that make me? Because I literally can't withstand the pain of my son being gone, I refuse to feel it, think about it and therefore, sometimes don't think about him. I told you it was difficult to hear, harder to fully understand and nothing I can share with my son because even though he knows I care and love him beyond - it sounds as though it is out of sight out of mind. Never the case, never a possibility always a struggle to repress along with a lot of other PTSD crap just so that I can keep being "normal" on a day to day basis and get up and go to work and yeah, crash on the weekend because physically my body says TOO MUCH, ENOUGH - and it shuts down.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Brain Train derailed
One of the fun things of PTSD is trying to remember! This morning while trying to get ready for work I came up with the perfect thing to blog about today. Something to do with marriage, I think, that's just it, I don't remember. I planned on coming straight to work and quickly blogging than adding my son's mission blog with his email. I should never plan on that, for once I get to work things explode and most thoughts that once resided in my noggin are simply......gone. Sigh.
My son is doing good in New York State. He is struggling with low numbers and personal issues that as I mentioned last post, he gets from his mother, grandmother - yeah we are a line of worriers. Not that it ever has done us any good yet we just don't seem to be able to stop. One of these days! I'm hopeful. =] For those catching this that would like to catch up with my boy you can find him on myzengermissionary.blogspot.com .
One of the other day to day things to work through is being satisfied with what you can get done in a day. For those like me, recovering perfectionist, that compete against yourselves and try to be ahead of the game - catch mistakes before others, get things accomplished before the holiday so you can take a holiday - yeah those things. I know most people are hard on themselves and have to work on "list" issues like marking off the things you accomplished today. Yes at the beginning of counseling 6 yrs ago I did those lists and the most accomplished some days was "I got out of bed". These days when you feel better and think you might be headed towards "normal - your old self", you have to accept that you aren't. That what you once could accomplish in a day is gone and new standards have to be set and you have to be okay with that. If I told myself I was not as accomplished or competent as I once was (which I did at one time) than I would also be adding self esteem issues to the mix. It simply has to do with not being able to multi-task like I used to. Multi-tasking takes more energy than I possess and when you want to sleep at night, energy is a necessary commodity.
When I remember what it was I was originally supposed to type here, maybe I'll come back. =]
Paix
My son is doing good in New York State. He is struggling with low numbers and personal issues that as I mentioned last post, he gets from his mother, grandmother - yeah we are a line of worriers. Not that it ever has done us any good yet we just don't seem to be able to stop. One of these days! I'm hopeful. =] For those catching this that would like to catch up with my boy you can find him on myzengermissionary.blogspot.com .
One of the other day to day things to work through is being satisfied with what you can get done in a day. For those like me, recovering perfectionist, that compete against yourselves and try to be ahead of the game - catch mistakes before others, get things accomplished before the holiday so you can take a holiday - yeah those things. I know most people are hard on themselves and have to work on "list" issues like marking off the things you accomplished today. Yes at the beginning of counseling 6 yrs ago I did those lists and the most accomplished some days was "I got out of bed". These days when you feel better and think you might be headed towards "normal - your old self", you have to accept that you aren't. That what you once could accomplish in a day is gone and new standards have to be set and you have to be okay with that. If I told myself I was not as accomplished or competent as I once was (which I did at one time) than I would also be adding self esteem issues to the mix. It simply has to do with not being able to multi-task like I used to. Multi-tasking takes more energy than I possess and when you want to sleep at night, energy is a necessary commodity.
When I remember what it was I was originally supposed to type here, maybe I'll come back. =]
Paix
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Off and running.......only figuratively of course.
I believe I will start this blog with an introduction. Most people know of me, yes I say it that way on purpose, because until you open up your heart, your mind, your soul, and your thoughts to those around you, no one really knows you but you, and God. I stated in my description that I am Christian, I know that there is a God, that he has a son, Jesus Christ, and they help lead people through the Holy Ghost. I am my religion. It can't be separated from me, many trials, tribulations, and people have tried; yet failed. I don't use my religion as a shield, a push point, or to be prejudiced, it is simply ingrained me that I am a daughter of God and his love has been proven to me, for me, too many times for me to deny it. If you've gotten this far and are still reading, thank you. :) I have friends of many different faiths, non-faith even, and have tried ever since my PTSD started, to be the least judgmental person that I can. I believe that inside, we are all the same. On the outside we look different, sound different, speak different; yet in our soul and heart we are all creations of God. We think differently due to heritage, background, and circumstance; however, once upon a time we didn't judge, we didn't poke fun at, we didn't tease, we didn't hate those are learned behaviors. Once upon a time...we accepted and loved.
This blog is to speak to that heart and soul that is crying out to be heard, to be understood, and to be accepted for who and what they are.
In 2007 my "normal" world crash in on itself, day by day getting worse and worse until I seriously thought I had gone crazy, lost it, had a mental breakdown. My children were 13, 11, and 7. I can still recall the look on my 13 yr old son's face as I had just picked everyone up from school. You have to realize, the Elementary School and Jr High School are only 1 mile away in their own directions. After picking up Elementary and starting home, I detoured and pulled into the Chevron station and parked. Not in a stall or space, just pulled in and slammed on the brakes. I peeled my white knuckled hands off the wheel and turned to my oldest son, with tears streaking down my face and said, "Oh my God Anthony I can't DO THIS!" I grabbed my cell phone, jumped out of the car so my kids wouldn't hear me and called my OBGYN to see if she had a referral for me to get help or could get me on some medication asap. Well, we all know that NOTHING in this world happens asap. It's taken years of mixed drug (cocktails) combinations to finally get one that allowed me to "manage" or be able to deal with my life. It didn't fix, didn't control, but helped me be at a place where I could tap down my anxiety, my emotions or at least try to. I had another drug that was short term, fast acting that helped me when I couldn't help myself.
I'm trying to face my demons. Any of you out there fighting with me know that facing your demons brings back the trauma, the reason your body finally said ENOUGH! Therefore, this blog may not be typed in each day, I may share, feel great and than crash the next day - not doing as great as I thought I was. I am going to restrict it to no comments. Opening myself up to criticism is something that I deal with daily, and still not well. I don't want to hear from those that have no idea what we go through to "knock it off, pick yourself up, move on, get over it". I get enough of that from my family. If you don't understand, you don't have the right to judge and even if you begin to understand, which I hope some of you can, for those you may love, you still can't fully and I don't wish this on anyone, even if it will give you empathy. Those who come here from Facebook either know me personally, are gaming friends, or I have connected with due to PTSD, TBI, and other disorders. God bless you, each of you have helped me in ways you can't understand, just by being you. Showing your struggles, embracing them, fighting them, and supporting those around you. If anything I share helps or causes someone to stop and think, than this blog is successful and I would love to hear that. However, please respect that while I have made this available via search engines, in order to reach out to those who may need, PTSD is negative enough, no one needs any more in their life, especially not me, when I fight it each day, most of the day.
Paix (peace)
This blog is to speak to that heart and soul that is crying out to be heard, to be understood, and to be accepted for who and what they are.
In 2007 my "normal" world crash in on itself, day by day getting worse and worse until I seriously thought I had gone crazy, lost it, had a mental breakdown. My children were 13, 11, and 7. I can still recall the look on my 13 yr old son's face as I had just picked everyone up from school. You have to realize, the Elementary School and Jr High School are only 1 mile away in their own directions. After picking up Elementary and starting home, I detoured and pulled into the Chevron station and parked. Not in a stall or space, just pulled in and slammed on the brakes. I peeled my white knuckled hands off the wheel and turned to my oldest son, with tears streaking down my face and said, "Oh my God Anthony I can't DO THIS!" I grabbed my cell phone, jumped out of the car so my kids wouldn't hear me and called my OBGYN to see if she had a referral for me to get help or could get me on some medication asap. Well, we all know that NOTHING in this world happens asap. It's taken years of mixed drug (cocktails) combinations to finally get one that allowed me to "manage" or be able to deal with my life. It didn't fix, didn't control, but helped me be at a place where I could tap down my anxiety, my emotions or at least try to. I had another drug that was short term, fast acting that helped me when I couldn't help myself.
I'm trying to face my demons. Any of you out there fighting with me know that facing your demons brings back the trauma, the reason your body finally said ENOUGH! Therefore, this blog may not be typed in each day, I may share, feel great and than crash the next day - not doing as great as I thought I was. I am going to restrict it to no comments. Opening myself up to criticism is something that I deal with daily, and still not well. I don't want to hear from those that have no idea what we go through to "knock it off, pick yourself up, move on, get over it". I get enough of that from my family. If you don't understand, you don't have the right to judge and even if you begin to understand, which I hope some of you can, for those you may love, you still can't fully and I don't wish this on anyone, even if it will give you empathy. Those who come here from Facebook either know me personally, are gaming friends, or I have connected with due to PTSD, TBI, and other disorders. God bless you, each of you have helped me in ways you can't understand, just by being you. Showing your struggles, embracing them, fighting them, and supporting those around you. If anything I share helps or causes someone to stop and think, than this blog is successful and I would love to hear that. However, please respect that while I have made this available via search engines, in order to reach out to those who may need, PTSD is negative enough, no one needs any more in their life, especially not me, when I fight it each day, most of the day.
Paix (peace)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)