I've thought a lot of my mother lately. In therapy Friday afternoon we talked about traveling, the orchestra, theater, opera and all the cultural things she loved. It's a strange contrast between the tyrant and the artist but there was in fact a contrast, one I loved. I recall my mother singing around the house. I knew when she sang it would be a safe day. For some reason when she sang all the vile went away.
One of my mother's favorite animals is the African Elephant which is why I purchased a notebook with one on the cover. I also liked the quote which says: Colors speak louder than words.
The loss is incredible.
Grant mercy please.
She left deep wounds, many questions, but no answers. I have to find resolution in wreckage.
In the notebook I've written letters to my mother, some kind, others telling her exactly how I felt living with her. These letters and drawings are just another step in healing from the war god I called mother. ...continue reading "Mother’s and Grey Elephants"
I've tried to write this entry since Monday but I've run from it. I don't really want to write it because it hurts.
Therapy was hard, as usual. We went over the dream where the man was stabbed in the hallway. As I told Dr. D the part about hearing the man stabbed to death while hiding in the closet, Dr. D blurted out, "You know that's your brother, right?" I said, "Yes, and my sister." Here I am age 46 and I can still hear them both scream. I can still feel the fear as if I were backed in a corner watching, again. I told Dr. D that hearing my siblings abused or seeing it happen often felt worse than being abused myself. I remember it so clearly and I am certain it's what divides us to this day. ...continue reading "Therapy Review – Slaughtering Peace of Mind"
Entry Content: In some areas the dream was funny, strange and then ended violently. There is some sexual conversation, no abuse of children. Violent stabbing deaths. Mention of self injury.
Dream: I was standing in line in a food court with two restaurants serving my favorite food on both sides, but I was in a different line for a free hamburger. I stood in a very long line for what felt like forever. Finally I was at the front and ready for my order when a family of four walked right up to the front and began placing an order. I explained I'd been there and politely went on ordering but they kept talking to me. The family was so nice and talkative that I didn't realize while they talked to me, more family members arrived and ordered their meal for 15 people right under my nose. For my inconvenience, and much to my delight, the company gave me a free 13 inch sweet potato pie with my hamburger. ...continue reading "Dream Therapy: Murder and Powerlessness 1"
Feelings upon waking:
Fearful. Fearful! I was trembling as my mind went over the crazy parts of this dramatic dream. After I woke I kept saying, 'I'm sorry' over and over again as if somehow dreaming something so violent was my fault. In addition to that guilt, there was guilt for not helping the man in the hallway who was viciously and savagely killed. I listened to him scream and die while cowering behind the closet door. I was anxious and regrettably chewed up my fingers. This is self harm.
This dream is one day old but it's still a heavy one for me, especially since it resulted in an attack on myself. Why self-injury? To change the fear emotion that overtook me and to counter, over shadow flashbacks caused by the dream. I was shaking in bed, apologizing out loud for being weak. I wasn't thinking about the consequences of my actions. I was caught in emotion. I was not thinking straight. Another apology is needed, this time to myself. ...continue reading "Dream Therapy: Murder and Powerlessness 2"
She had a wide range of peculiarities but one constant; her mouth was always wide open.
Her violence frightened me as a child. The fact that she's still alive makes me a bit uncomfortable.
The woman with the split earlobe laughed loudly, sang loudly, slapped you on the back while laughing and did everything over the top. It wasn't mental illness, it was plain madness. ...continue reading "Wide"
I should call this entry, the big baby has pizza and now she's happy. It's comfort food. Pizza is my comfort food. It's in the oven now, bubbling with my herb blend, fresh garlic, three cheeses and two meats in a cast iron skillet. I'm gonna slice up a huge portion of self soothing.
Also in the 'this is a healing thing' category is the response I got concerning the last doll I made and adopted out. I smiled through the entire email. That really made me happy.
I am teetering and I know it. I've decided not to fight it. Maybe it won't last as long if I'm not trying to fight against an inevitable break. Spasms and new medication as well as grief has pushed me further than I needed to go and I can see that plainly. If I can't stop this train from hitting the wall at least I can pad the wall. I can brace properly so the impact isn't as devastating. I can prepare by getting my emotional emergency gear in place. There will be pizza. There will be pepperoni, quality pepperoni, sweet Italian sausage and several kinds of cheese. There will be art supplies on the ready and a list of ways to keep myself healthiest.
This time of cracking up includes Clyde which is a good thing because I don't have to do this alone. Nights can get so hard, and long.
My pizza sauce has caraway seeds and rosemary so that it tastes similar to Pizza Hut. The crust has a bit of corn meal in it which crisps up quite nicely in a well oiled cast iron skillet. I bake the crust first then add the toppings. Most of the sauce is served on the side so that the crust doesn't get too soggy.
It's been difficult physically and emotionally over this way. I'm struggling to keep sanity it feels like. I feel like I'm on the edge of it. Between my body and nightmares, I'm just exhausted.
I'm hungry. There's plenty of food to eat but nothing I really want. I just want to sleep off the yuck. What I want is pizza but I don't want to have to cook it myself. I'm being such a baby.
In therapy today, over the phone, we talked about Michelle who is 15 years old. She really enjoys walking the dog. I also found out she likes our scarves quite a bit, especially the orange ones. There are 5 orange scarves here, lol. They're added to our coat or jacket and don't make us look anything like the green lady from Brooklyn we saw online today. ...continue reading "Difficult days. Killers and mothers. A mess of topics."
I complained about Zanaflex saying I can't stay awake and that I can't tolerate this stuff, but I was violently reminded why this medication is part of my regimen. There is no justifiable reason for one's body doing this stuff, for spasming so hard that panic sets in. Again, I looked around for someplace to run, for a way to get away from myself. I have to remember to breathe, to use my coping skills for pain management so as to help myself emotionally through the spasms and burning sensations.
Yesterday it was my left side that bound hard, let go, bound up then let go. The thing is, at one point it the muscle on my left side spasmed and held. I tried not to panic. I went to the room and got in a position that helps ease muscle spasms in that area. I put my feet on the wall in a bent knee position to get a good, deep stretch. Also on the wall are trigger point pads for my feet. Since my feet are sensitive I have to put them under the hanging quilt so the points are dulled just a bit. The position helps. It took about 10 min in that position to feel a difference. By then medication time rolled around and I could take more Zanaflex....and sleep off the horror. I wasn't upset about sleeping, not this time.
CRSD is a violent, unrelenting, sadistic disease. I'm amazed at the different ways it can find to harm the human body and maim the mind. PTSD associated with medical trauma is no longer a new understanding for me.
It's a different kind of world when photos of your feet on a padded wall becomes a photo op for a blog entry. I wasn't in pain at the time of the photo.
Content: Sexual abuse. Innocence of children. Violent speech. Anxiety insight.
I vomited up details just to give them away because I don't want them anymore. I've not gotten to say what I want to say, the way I want to say it. He doesn't flinch when I add anger and resentment to my words.
We talked about not realizing the purpose of the girl's clubs for inner city girls. We talked about how the girls my mother chose for special attention didn't look like me but looked like my sister. I resent that. ...continue reading "Therapy Review: One Too Many Times"
My dreams weren't good but they didn't plague me. I laid in bed for a bit and watched a short lecture then got ready for therapy. We talked about how wonderful it's been to have my new buddy and how there's renewed courage to leave the house and go further than usual. I can't explain why a dog gives me that courage but he does.
We talked about the gift of sleep and how I can close my eyes and go to sleep without looking at the door fearing someone from my past will be standing there. It's not possible to stand in the doorway without Clyde letting me know. So I close my eyes and go to sleep....because I can.
The anxiety is still out of control with no real answer as to why. It's there, it's huge and it's not going anywhere soon. Dr. D and I went over a few things that could assist with managing it. We talked again about getting a stationary bike. I have to do something physical to relieve anxiety like this. Sometimes I just need to run from myself, get out of my skin and my head. I remember riding a bike back when I had a measure of health to do so. Man I miss it terribly. That's one of the best feelings ever. I know this bike will be stationary but my current need for it will be met because the motion of riding is what I seek. I figure since this is holiday time I can put one in the layaway at Walmart or something. ...continue reading "Therapy Review: Managing Anxiety. Relief"