Category Archives: healing

Flow or No

Whether it is because of the PTSD or otherwise, I tend to work in spurts or fits and starts. I keep thinking I should just be able to schedule something for a few hours, I can, but mostly don’t.

I need to accept that the abuse, panic attacks, and PTSD all make a regular schedule very difficult, if not impossible, as much as I’d like otherwise.

I need to stop fighting this and just accept it as the way I flow, period. I think when/if I can do that, the panic attacks or vestiges of them will lessen dramatically. It’s my belief that the panic is due largely to people being able to “see” what I’m doing or have done. I have a lot fewer problems, like nearly none, when I’m working for other people. This is only the stuff I do at home.
fits & starts2
Can I repeat, again, how much I really, absolutely hate the woman who abused me? It totally sucks to have your brain be your main enemy. It sucks more to view any finished project as something which will be attacked, belittled, or sneered at, whether it’s a clean kitchen counter or an art work. This just makes getting anything done a real challenge. [And I needed more of those, right?]

P.S. Reading this, I realized t’s wrong. I don’t hate her. I hate what she did to my brain. If it wasn’t that no matter how much work I do, this will be with me forever, I would have very few feelings about here at all.

She’s gone, her daughter is gone. The memories of what she did just make me feel sorrty: for her that she could be so nasty, her daughter and myself because she felt it necessary to emotionally attack two innocent little girls,, who grew to be wounded women because of it. It was just a waste.

Irritating & Human

I spaced an appointment today. I’ve been working hard at being organized, really organized the past week or two, and just blew it.

Which of course makes me mad — madder than when I was completely disorganized! The more I work at it, the madder I get when it doesn’t work. And it seems like I go through a period where try as I might, I screw up, over and over. I think it’s the broken egg/omelette problem.  This time at least, I’m determined NOT to throw my hands up in the air (figuratively) and give up.

chaos-to-order-image

So I “forgave” myself for the lapse. I have another appointment which I have an email out to reschedule. hopefully it can be. There’s a workshop I’d like to go to which creates a conflict.

In some ways being organized is MUCH easier, in others, it’s just work. Not the adult life I thought I’d have, but not feeling like I’m always in a state of chaos will be worthwhile, although scary. It was a major piece of my “camouflage.” I don’t think I need it any more. In fact, I think I need the low stress that not being chaotic will bring!

We’ll see.

J

 

Self-Care

One of the hardest things for me to understand when life was at its worst was: I deserve to not be miserable. After decades of fighting myself, the PTSD, my old “programming,” etc. I got militant about not backsliding and pursuing what made me “not miserable.” To that end, I have quit being a moderator on a self-help site.

I realized that the slogging work of removing spammers, daily, had become a substitution for the slogging house work. It’s certainly easier to sit at my computer and remove spammers than it is to go through the remaining piles of stuff. After the daily purge of 20+ spammers I had no inclination to tackle my own “spam.” So I quit.

There were other reasons, but the biggest one was that I’d used the unpaid position as an excuse to avoid my life. Self-care doesn’t always feel good. Sometimes it’s downright painful. Walking away from my family hurts, but overall I’m much happier without them in my life — which speaks for itself.

Sometimes self-care is a joyful explosion of self-expression, imagination and creativity, invoking ecstatic childhood. But sometimes, it’s the somber, painful necessary  work of an adult.

 

Ping Points

sunset-image-from-google-images

Seems I’ve always been focused on what’s over there, beyond the horizon. I know now that what bugs me the most are messes on horizontal surfaces: counters, floors, chairs, etc. Perhaps the two things are related — I don’t know.

I can handle a sink full of dishes, but not a sinkful and counters cluttered with dishes too — that’s too much. So I can handle one sinkful of dishes, but not TWO! (Or, I can’t stand the dirty dishes cluttering up the horizontal counter?)

The laundry room I’m okay with stuff on top of the machines — as long as it’s folded. The quantity doesn’t seem to matter, it’s that the laundry is folded and not heaped.

As someone who never let myself “see” the mess, it’s interesting to notice that not only now do I see the clutter, but I also have limits where the disorder starts to bug me.

ping-word-art

Life sure is different. . . .

(Images are not mine, but came from images.google.com)

Getting Back on Track?

I have wandered fairly far afield in the past 2-3 months. That is, I’ve nearly stopped posting the weekly “to do” list, stopped thinking about or working on my larger, long-term goals, except in a spotty fashion.

I haven’t done a concerted purge for the tally in the past few days, either.

The house is staying cleaner, which is great, but for more than a month I’ve been doing whatever was in front of me, instead of trying to make the work I do count towards my bigger, long-term goals.

I know why: I’ve been fighting off exhaustion and depression. Rather than simply ignoring it and trying to push it away, a couple of days ago I finally sent an “I need help!” email to my nearest friends. I got what I needed, that is, a reminder that I’m not alone, there are people in my corner. In the recent past, except for real crisis, I haven’t asked for help much (or at least that’s my perception). I had a good therapist, and that’s what I used her for, I leaned on her, and our session recharged my batteries about 2x a month, and usually, that was enough.

She retired in June. The idea of establishing a new relationship with someone else after 15 years with the same person was just exhausting. Also, the people she recommended did not appeal to me at all for various reasons. Maybe in person that would be different, but the short bio forms, much of it a sales pitch, just left me cold. This means I haven’t gotten a new therapist.

Unknown to me, my energy started to fade. When I finally realized what was going on last week, I saw that it was like a slow drain of my energy and enthusiasm. I think of myself as a self-starter, but I need energy shots or something from others. Didn’t realize that those energy shots were a lot of what I was getting from my therapy. It was my 2 hours a month to be as whiney and selfish as I wanted. For someone with PTSD, or at least for me, it was a time/place to talk about all the ways/places/times that others pushed those buttons and how I should or did deal with them.

Because my flashback is a 3 year old’s grief, I have as I say, ” a grieving 3 year old, caught in the amber of my psyche.” Accordingly  my PTSD reactions to things are almost always inappropriate! Having a safe place to start there and then see/figure the more reasoned response was a blessing I’ve now lost. That created another drain, as I’ve been monitoring myself and my behavior in ways I hadn’t had to for a long time.

All of this and a few other things created a situation where I’ve been fighting off depression and exhaustion. I’m glad I finally realized what was going on and asked for help. I’m not sure what a long-term fix is, as I really don’t think I can do this every six months for the rest of my life, any more than I think I can afford a therapist 2x a month forever either, even assuming I had one.

I need to find new answers.

In the meantime, I need to get back on track: purging, culling, cleaning, and moving towards a time/space where I can do whatever’s next, even if it’s just dying.

When Does Stubborn Cross the Line into Stupid?

I just quit a site where I have previously been quite active. Why? Because there was no one, apparently there. Talking to anyone in the company was like shooting bullets into the San Francisco Bay during an opaque pea-soup fog. You have no idea if there’s anything or anyone to hit, if you killed a person, hit the bridge or a bird,  or having hit nothing, the bullet lies, spent, on the sea floor.

It was more than that, but that was the root of the problem. There was no way to affect change, know if you had, know the effects of what you did or said.

It feels quite a bit like my first marriage. I’m stubborn, but I finally gave up on that. The store too.

I’ve always been stubborn (I was supposed to die at birth, fooled ‘ya!) and this question of when do you finally draw a line and say “I’ve had it!” keeps popping up. How long do you have to hang on to a relationship, job, business, behavior, habit, or (fill in the blank) before you just give up? I’ve never had a criteria. The only thing I know is that when dealing with whatever is almost always accompanied by quantities of stomach acid, it’s probably time to go. Even then I hesitate. Even then I usually hang on for some time.

I really don’t have an answer for this question. I wish I had a yardstick of some kind. What do you do?

J

Lapfull of Warm: Completely Unexpected Result

DH and I went to my fave yarn shop last weekend. My holiday gift was yarn this year.

While we were checking out, the woman working asked about my muffler. What yarn had I used, how big were the needles? Would I tell her the pattern? She wanted to make one!

OMG!!!

I was shellshocked. The 2nd piece I ever finish and someone who works in a yarn shop wants to copy it???

I haven’t posted anything because I think it’s like the first book. For months I was waiting for someone to say, “No. Sorry, we really didn’t mean it.” and I refused to let myself get excited about the book. This was similar. I haven’t really let myself even think about it. But I sat in the car last Saturday afterward, and nearly cried.

Long way in two years ‘eh? From a 10 stitch square which traumatized me so much it took me 4 hours to knit to a piece which is good enough for someone who works in a yarn shop to want to make!

I still shake when I’m knitting and I think about it. If I knit and I’m not distracted by something I still want to cry. I still have issues with the 3rd, 4th, and 5th stitches casting on and casting off. But if I distract myself enough? I can knit some, and I guess I do all right. . .OMG!

J