I am sure ya'll will be getting tired of my topic even if you are too kind to say, *Shut Up!* Tapioca bread does not seem to toast brown before burning. Hmm. Interesting. I thought everything browned.
And now I am craving sugar! Uh! What is the metabolic breakdown here? I must have been converting a lot to sugar and now my body is going, *where's my sugar?!*, in a not very nice voice. Course it could just be that it is telling me it needs something else and I don't understand.
And what the hell is cellulose? Is it wheat- based? Can it be wheat -based? I could not find a definitive answer online. It is in my glucosamine/chondroitin supplement. Frustrating!
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
take back
Okay, I have to take back what I said yesterday. Today is Day 3, not yesterday. Back to Preschool. Can't count to 3.
Still no noticable difference. Just frustration. And CRAP! I'm thinking about food that contains wheat ALL THE TIME!
Even when I eat the gluten free alternatives.
this could be important. But at the moment I am just so frustrated with the pain and tired from the sleeplessness (because I'm in pain) that I'm just trying to get through each day. I'm sick of that mode of living. Really sick of it. I want to be pleased that it is not dark so long. I want to be pleased that Brigid is coming and my anniversary. (Same day)
I want to be thrilled by the little things that used to thrill me.
I still see the things that used to thrill me, just no access to the joy.
Oh, yes, there are moments when my brain says, *this is one of those moments*. Like when both my dogs had hold of the same stick this afternoon. Cuute! But it doesn't make it to my heart.
Still no noticable difference. Just frustration. And CRAP! I'm thinking about food that contains wheat ALL THE TIME!
Even when I eat the gluten free alternatives.
this could be important. But at the moment I am just so frustrated with the pain and tired from the sleeplessness (because I'm in pain) that I'm just trying to get through each day. I'm sick of that mode of living. Really sick of it. I want to be pleased that it is not dark so long. I want to be pleased that Brigid is coming and my anniversary. (Same day)
I want to be thrilled by the little things that used to thrill me.
I still see the things that used to thrill me, just no access to the joy.
Oh, yes, there are moments when my brain says, *this is one of those moments*. Like when both my dogs had hold of the same stick this afternoon. Cuute! But it doesn't make it to my heart.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Day 3
It is day three of no wheat. Just for today I am getting over myself. (and I have a gluten free brownie mix for the day when it all falls apart and that is the only *fix*.)
I found that even at my local Giant Eagle I probably won't starve. But I have an odd love/hate relationship with food and sometimes something specific is REALLY WANTED ! This caused many grocery store meltdowns when I was getting used to the whole no dairy thing. When I want comfort food I just want comfort food. I'm a little more savvy about the whole process now than I was then. And I was together enough emotionally to read a few labels on stuff I had in the pantry and sort it. Keep/Give Away. I faired reasonably well except there is the bulk purchase of snack bars that I can't eat. And the organic whole wheat flour that isn't even open yet. Ah,well.
Is there a difference yet? Nope. Fingers still feel broken. Hips, knees, ankles still hurt. See, with the dairy the result was immediate and astounding. Absolutely fucking amazing. The only incentive I needed was that I was out of pain. Immediately. It took a little longer to realize that I no longer had constant heartburn either. I never connected them. I have not had one episode of heartburn since I stopped eating dairy.
We'll give it the full 14-20 days and see how I feel. If after that I still have the same level of pain I will have to discuss it further wiht someone who knows more that I do to assess whether it might be helpful or not anyway. What I hear is that eliminating wheat can stop the damage that R.A. does to joints and muscles.
I found that even at my local Giant Eagle I probably won't starve. But I have an odd love/hate relationship with food and sometimes something specific is REALLY WANTED ! This caused many grocery store meltdowns when I was getting used to the whole no dairy thing. When I want comfort food I just want comfort food. I'm a little more savvy about the whole process now than I was then. And I was together enough emotionally to read a few labels on stuff I had in the pantry and sort it. Keep/Give Away. I faired reasonably well except there is the bulk purchase of snack bars that I can't eat. And the organic whole wheat flour that isn't even open yet. Ah,well.
Is there a difference yet? Nope. Fingers still feel broken. Hips, knees, ankles still hurt. See, with the dairy the result was immediate and astounding. Absolutely fucking amazing. The only incentive I needed was that I was out of pain. Immediately. It took a little longer to realize that I no longer had constant heartburn either. I never connected them. I have not had one episode of heartburn since I stopped eating dairy.
We'll give it the full 14-20 days and see how I feel. If after that I still have the same level of pain I will have to discuss it further wiht someone who knows more that I do to assess whether it might be helpful or not anyway. What I hear is that eliminating wheat can stop the damage that R.A. does to joints and muscles.
Monday, January 23, 2012
oops
I made one of my casseroles last night. That means I put all the ingrediants in a dish and bake it. Well, I used a jar of lentils, quoina (sp?) and what not that had been the last of several jars and so I put them all in one when I needed the jars for new bean, etc. It turns out that one of the things that was in there, that I thought was rice, was barley. Oops. Barley is not, apparently, gluten free. This activates the fear named *There won't be any food that I can eat*. Yep, I had this same thing with the dairy stuff. Yep, I know what it looks like and I know its name. We've met before. That doesn't mean it still doesn't scare me. Whole 6 quart dish of food that I can't eat and no one in this house will eat. Can't even feed it to the dogs. dogs can't eat lentils. Daisy will just puke it up.
Not to mention the pantry full of glutenful foods.
I'm just sayin'.
No, I didn't throw it away. Not yet. Cause, who knows? This might not even work. I froze it.
Not to mention the pantry full of glutenful foods.
I'm just sayin'.
No, I didn't throw it away. Not yet. Cause, who knows? This might not even work. I froze it.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
gratitude
I need a gratitude check. Because I'm not dead and I'm not too crippled to move. Yet. And I intend to do whatever I can to stay moving as long as I can.
1. I'm here.
2. I can still move, mostly, if not gracefully.
3. I have food to eat. (see below)
4. I have two great, sweet dogs.
5. I have coffee. (DO NOT go there.)
6. I am not broke.
7. I have a warm bed to sleep in.
8. I have clean clothes to put on.
9. I have a job.
10. I have friends.
11. I have tools. (real and metaphysical)
12. I have options.
13. I can read and I have stuff I WANT to read.
14. I love my job.
15. I have a great therapist.
16. I have coloured pens.
17. I have watercolours, brushes, and paper.
18. Someone told me thank you for what I said today.
19. I got hugs from friends.
20. People still talk to me.
21. I don't live in a cave.
22. People in the grocery store can move around me.
23. I'm sober.
Okay, why'd I need a gratiutde list? Well, it's always helpful to write out what I'm grateful for even if it's the most basic of necessities. In fact, I am more grateful for those than for the special stuff because they are, well, necessary.
I heard from more than one person about the whole gluten-free thing being helpful to R. A. sufferers. I tend to listen selectively and so I need to hear things more than once before I take a serious look at them. But I did a little scrolling around and found that, yes, it would seem that there are people who think this is true. It won't kill me to eliminate gluten from my diet. But most gluten-free diets are for celiac sufferers. Which means that dairy and nuts are not a problem. Well, I can't eat dairy, almonds, or peanuts. And dairy is as prevalent as gluten in prepared foods. Frustrating. And my fear is those nights when I get home late and I'm too tired to cook, what will I eat? Cause tired AND hungry is not a pretty place for me. Yes, I can plan ahead and freeze stuff. And I do and I will. In fact, there is a casserole of legumes and vegetables cooling to be frozen as I write. So, I guess what my real problem is is that I am not living in the present moment. Cause in the present moment my belly is full and I have dinner for a week and I have a loaf of gluten-free bread and I have sunflower butter and soy cheese. There is fruit and vegetables fresh, tinned, and frozen in my cupboard/freezer/refridgerator.
That is all.
1. I'm here.
2. I can still move, mostly, if not gracefully.
3. I have food to eat. (see below)
4. I have two great, sweet dogs.
5. I have coffee. (DO NOT go there.)
6. I am not broke.
7. I have a warm bed to sleep in.
8. I have clean clothes to put on.
9. I have a job.
10. I have friends.
11. I have tools. (real and metaphysical)
12. I have options.
13. I can read and I have stuff I WANT to read.
14. I love my job.
15. I have a great therapist.
16. I have coloured pens.
17. I have watercolours, brushes, and paper.
18. Someone told me thank you for what I said today.
19. I got hugs from friends.
20. People still talk to me.
21. I don't live in a cave.
22. People in the grocery store can move around me.
23. I'm sober.
Okay, why'd I need a gratiutde list? Well, it's always helpful to write out what I'm grateful for even if it's the most basic of necessities. In fact, I am more grateful for those than for the special stuff because they are, well, necessary.
I heard from more than one person about the whole gluten-free thing being helpful to R. A. sufferers. I tend to listen selectively and so I need to hear things more than once before I take a serious look at them. But I did a little scrolling around and found that, yes, it would seem that there are people who think this is true. It won't kill me to eliminate gluten from my diet. But most gluten-free diets are for celiac sufferers. Which means that dairy and nuts are not a problem. Well, I can't eat dairy, almonds, or peanuts. And dairy is as prevalent as gluten in prepared foods. Frustrating. And my fear is those nights when I get home late and I'm too tired to cook, what will I eat? Cause tired AND hungry is not a pretty place for me. Yes, I can plan ahead and freeze stuff. And I do and I will. In fact, there is a casserole of legumes and vegetables cooling to be frozen as I write. So, I guess what my real problem is is that I am not living in the present moment. Cause in the present moment my belly is full and I have dinner for a week and I have a loaf of gluten-free bread and I have sunflower butter and soy cheese. There is fruit and vegetables fresh, tinned, and frozen in my cupboard/freezer/refridgerator.
That is all.
Friday, January 20, 2012
staying in
So, I posted on the wrong blog!! Oops.
I'm staying in tonight. Achey, tired. So, if you were expecting me girls...I'm at home.
Candles lit, good food, resting.
I've been exhausted lately. Like, afraid that if I take a nap I won't be able to get back up until morning. Which would be okay if I had no place to go. But that isn't always the case. So, I am not going anywhere.
I have an afghan in the making that I am working on. I watched a tutorial online to get it started. It is about ten inches square now. I have a bag of odds and ends of yarn going into it.
Stay warm. Stay safe.
I'm staying in tonight. Achey, tired. So, if you were expecting me girls...I'm at home.
Candles lit, good food, resting.
I've been exhausted lately. Like, afraid that if I take a nap I won't be able to get back up until morning. Which would be okay if I had no place to go. But that isn't always the case. So, I am not going anywhere.
I have an afghan in the making that I am working on. I watched a tutorial online to get it started. It is about ten inches square now. I have a bag of odds and ends of yarn going into it.
Stay warm. Stay safe.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Huh?
I was walking the dogs tonight and they started tugging on the leash and getting excited. So I look to see what they see. A SKUNK! Waddling across the street, in Sheraden. In January! Why is that creature not hibernating?
No, we did not get sprayed. I was going to avoid that if I had to lay down on them to stop them from chasing him/her.
The two of them together wout weigh me and I think they know it. If they really wanted to drag me around they could. I try to keep this information from them...but, I think they pieced it together.
No, we did not get sprayed. I was going to avoid that if I had to lay down on them to stop them from chasing him/her.
The two of them together wout weigh me and I think they know it. If they really wanted to drag me around they could. I try to keep this information from them...but, I think they pieced it together.
some flotsam and jetsam
When I set up apartments in my house five months ago I left some stuff behind. The thing I miss the most...a couch. I have my eye on some things at Ikeabut for now that must wait. The other thing I left behind was the vacuum. Because it is not mine. Mine is a irobot Roomba. I have been setting it free to roam and suck up detris for a couple of years. It always picks stuff up and it had a filter that catches that fluffy stuff too. Well, it has been having battery issues and so I bought a different vacuum. It is lightweight and small. I THOUGHT I had made a mistake and got a sweeper that does not pick up much. Well! I was wrong. I had to empty the dust cup in every room. And there are only three. Well, there is a hallway too. Amazing.
My Uncle Bob sold Filter Queens just after the Second World War. He had a few things to say when I wanted to buy a Kirby. First, it wan't a Filter Queen. I still have that but it does not have a beater bar and does only a fair job on carpet. Although it does pick up the dog hair. I had it refurbished at a vacuum repair place and the guy was quite enthusiastic. He was appalled that I was going to trash it. When I got it home it sucked so hard it would have sucked up a small careless dog!
So, where I was going with that...Uncle Bob said that the same experiment that the Kirby salesmen do with the fliter and going over and over the same spot on your carpet to prove the quality and ability of the Kirby can be done with any vacuum. You just have to vacuum over the same spot repeatedly like you are a Kirby salesman.
It works with a Shark too.
My Uncle Bob sold Filter Queens just after the Second World War. He had a few things to say when I wanted to buy a Kirby. First, it wan't a Filter Queen. I still have that but it does not have a beater bar and does only a fair job on carpet. Although it does pick up the dog hair. I had it refurbished at a vacuum repair place and the guy was quite enthusiastic. He was appalled that I was going to trash it. When I got it home it sucked so hard it would have sucked up a small careless dog!
So, where I was going with that...Uncle Bob said that the same experiment that the Kirby salesmen do with the fliter and going over and over the same spot on your carpet to prove the quality and ability of the Kirby can be done with any vacuum. You just have to vacuum over the same spot repeatedly like you are a Kirby salesman.
It works with a Shark too.
Monday, January 16, 2012
The Walk
Zip up our jackets.
Put on our hats.
Tie our shoes.
Settle the baby across my center.
Offer the child my hand.
We step on the path.
We move at the pace of the child.
Slow, plodding.
She sees something.
She drops my hand, runs off.
Wait!
She runs back witha treasure I should see.
I look.
A feather, a flower, a stick.
She takes back my hand and we continue on.
The baby shifts, fusses, wakes.
I'm here. You're safe.
The sun shines.
My shadow falls darkly on the path.
A solitary grown-up shadow.
My shadow children leave no shadows on the path.
Their voices, my voice.
Their needs, my needs.
Their presence, thier energy
Is real.
It subjugates mine at times.
When they have a need that I try to ignore.
A tantrum.
A piercing cry.
Okay.
Stop.
Ask.
What do you need?
I need to be acknowledged.
I need to be held.
I need to be comforted.
I stop walking.
We sit on a fallen log.
We eat.
We rock.
I hold them.
Who is this strange traveling trio?
Put on our hats.
Tie our shoes.
Settle the baby across my center.
Offer the child my hand.
We step on the path.
We move at the pace of the child.
Slow, plodding.
She sees something.
She drops my hand, runs off.
Wait!
She runs back witha treasure I should see.
I look.
A feather, a flower, a stick.
She takes back my hand and we continue on.
The baby shifts, fusses, wakes.
I'm here. You're safe.
The sun shines.
My shadow falls darkly on the path.
A solitary grown-up shadow.
My shadow children leave no shadows on the path.
Their voices, my voice.
Their needs, my needs.
Their presence, thier energy
Is real.
It subjugates mine at times.
When they have a need that I try to ignore.
A tantrum.
A piercing cry.
Okay.
Stop.
Ask.
What do you need?
I need to be acknowledged.
I need to be held.
I need to be comforted.
I stop walking.
We sit on a fallen log.
We eat.
We rock.
I hold them.
Who is this strange traveling trio?
Sunday, January 15, 2012
And I feel
And I feel so vulnerable. I have a black belt but it won't do me any good if my body won't work the way it is supposed to. I can't kick anybody's ass if I can't get my leg up to do it or I can't put any power into it.
And since I hurt when I'm just walking then...pretty sure I won't be kicking anyone.
Not that I was planning on kicking ass. That's not how Tang So Doo works. But knowing that could was very satisfying. It helped me feel safe. Now I do not feel safe.
And since I hurt when I'm just walking then...pretty sure I won't be kicking anyone.
Not that I was planning on kicking ass. That's not how Tang So Doo works. But knowing that could was very satisfying. It helped me feel safe. Now I do not feel safe.
hurting and confused
So I hurt. Yep. I did my yoga asanas, I walked the dogs, I've been moving nearly all day. But that hurts. It hurts to walk, it hurts to type, it hurts to cook.
I made some concoction with lentils and spices and onions and spinach today. Crap! I had asparagus to put in it and I forgot. Oh well. Asparagus in my next concoction.
Y know, something that really annoys me is that my doctor tols me years ago that the pain in my knees was probably arthritis. Take advil. Okay, but he never made it clear that it was probably NOT osteoarthritis. Because I was probably twenty something at the time. It was manageable with advil so...carry on. Huh. See, it was MORE managable with advil a few weeks ago. Until my eyeball exploded (not for real...see back posts) and I had to stop taking it. Then I found out just how much I really hurt. Which is enough to seriously stress me out and slow me down. How is that helpful? Isn't rheumatiod arthritis a stress disease?
Okay, no one really knows for sure what the causes are. Some speculate trauma and stress, heredity seems to play a role. My dad has it. I think my gram had it.
But the honest ones say they don't know.
The remedies are many from steroids to NSAIDS to some stuff I do not understand, to meditation and yoga (see my frustration here?)
In my own life, it seemed to become a force to be reconded with after I started dealing with the sexual abuse from my childhood along with just ordinary abuse and neglect. And probably some just, dislike too.
What I would like today is just something that would make me more comfortable. More able to move without pain. Able to sleep without pain. That's what I would like.
Is there a lesson in all this? Or is my Higher Power just dropping me on my head again?
I would really like to see the point in all this. I'm one of those people. If I know why I get on board sooner. I'm having a really hard time with all this. Really.
I made some concoction with lentils and spices and onions and spinach today. Crap! I had asparagus to put in it and I forgot. Oh well. Asparagus in my next concoction.
Y know, something that really annoys me is that my doctor tols me years ago that the pain in my knees was probably arthritis. Take advil. Okay, but he never made it clear that it was probably NOT osteoarthritis. Because I was probably twenty something at the time. It was manageable with advil so...carry on. Huh. See, it was MORE managable with advil a few weeks ago. Until my eyeball exploded (not for real...see back posts) and I had to stop taking it. Then I found out just how much I really hurt. Which is enough to seriously stress me out and slow me down. How is that helpful? Isn't rheumatiod arthritis a stress disease?
Okay, no one really knows for sure what the causes are. Some speculate trauma and stress, heredity seems to play a role. My dad has it. I think my gram had it.
But the honest ones say they don't know.
The remedies are many from steroids to NSAIDS to some stuff I do not understand, to meditation and yoga (see my frustration here?)
In my own life, it seemed to become a force to be reconded with after I started dealing with the sexual abuse from my childhood along with just ordinary abuse and neglect. And probably some just, dislike too.
What I would like today is just something that would make me more comfortable. More able to move without pain. Able to sleep without pain. That's what I would like.
Is there a lesson in all this? Or is my Higher Power just dropping me on my head again?
I would really like to see the point in all this. I'm one of those people. If I know why I get on board sooner. I'm having a really hard time with all this. Really.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
bad news
So after the eyeball hematoma I stopped taking the advil and by Sunday I felt like I had the flu. Except I wasn't sick. I just ached all over like I had the flu...or a fever. But I did not have the flu, nor did I have a fever that I know of. But, since it just ain't right to hurt like that I went to the doctor. K. I was so not prepared for the information I got. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. This is not good. Especially since I have an enzyme issue which means I should not take NSAIDS (which includes the advil I was taking, yes). and so he put his hands up and would not prescribe anything at all. He is sending me to a rheumatologist who can't squeeze me in until March. So here I am taking tylenol, which is. apparently, not an NSAID but does precious little for me except cause me to worry about the state of my liver. While I still hurt all over. What if I just didn't take it? Probably feel like I had the flu. Just to ease my worry I just might try it. I just want to not hurt.
See, all this started when I started having flashbacks of the abuse/neglect. I thought that yoga, meditiation, and not living in repression would eventually ease the physical pain. Nope. It just got steadily worse.
Really. I really think my Higher Power IS dropping me on my head. Over and over and over. Just when I get my fingers up over the top of the pit I seem to be in She stomps on my fingers and I go sliding back in. Feels like, anyway. Hurts to type. Hurts to do anything. If I stop doing anything I won't have the muscle mass to do anything. It is a viscious cycle.
Yeah, I've cried. On Wednesday I cried so hard I thought I was going to throw up or pass out from lack of oxygen. Seriously, I could not catch my breath. For so long I got pretty scared. But I couldn't stop. sounds like it should help in some cleansing kind of way. But it doesn't feel like it. Maybe because whatever I do, whereever I go there's the pain. Maybe.
Hell, yes I'm angry. I thought doing all this really hard, really fucking painful work would somehow prevent the *diseases of trauma*. I was wrong.
Must, of course, take into consideration that this was already established long before I started any of this work. Long before I even knew it was there.
Off to preserve my suxcle mass.
See, all this started when I started having flashbacks of the abuse/neglect. I thought that yoga, meditiation, and not living in repression would eventually ease the physical pain. Nope. It just got steadily worse.
Really. I really think my Higher Power IS dropping me on my head. Over and over and over. Just when I get my fingers up over the top of the pit I seem to be in She stomps on my fingers and I go sliding back in. Feels like, anyway. Hurts to type. Hurts to do anything. If I stop doing anything I won't have the muscle mass to do anything. It is a viscious cycle.
Yeah, I've cried. On Wednesday I cried so hard I thought I was going to throw up or pass out from lack of oxygen. Seriously, I could not catch my breath. For so long I got pretty scared. But I couldn't stop. sounds like it should help in some cleansing kind of way. But it doesn't feel like it. Maybe because whatever I do, whereever I go there's the pain. Maybe.
Hell, yes I'm angry. I thought doing all this really hard, really fucking painful work would somehow prevent the *diseases of trauma*. I was wrong.
Must, of course, take into consideration that this was already established long before I started any of this work. Long before I even knew it was there.
Off to preserve my suxcle mass.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
flotsam and jetsam
So If I post every day or even every couple days the chances are pretty good that I will post about nothing. Who cares? Not me, really. I just like the sound of the keys being tapped.
I had to see an opthamologist for the first time ever. I had a little spot of blood on the white of my left eye. My first thought was, OMG! I've had a stroke! No, no, I'm not an overreactor! Ha.
Well, it turns out it was caused by the advil I was taking for hips, knees, headaches.... It is a blood thinner. It thinned my blood so well it leaked out of the tiny vessels (?), capilaries (?) in my eye. I'll be fine. Just no more advil. Tylenol. So now I have to watch my liver. Egads!
I have been painting a lot lately. No, don't get the idea that I have any skill. No, I just like it. I find it absorbing and relaxing. I have always liked working with colour. Now, I'm trying out working with lines. and really, Mondrian did those squares and it *great Art* so.... On Friday I am going to get a new brown and a pink watercolour pencil. I've been doing lots of trees.
I jsut had the idea to sketch my athame. Maybe I'll do some godesses too. Maybe a goddess in the stlye of Mondrian.
I started using the notebook I found that poem in that I don't remember writing for my morning pages. I have read some of the stuff I'd forgotten about. There was a LOT I'd forgotten about. a part of me remembered and I did not know why I was untrusting of some friends. Now it is clearer. so I can begin to process what happened, how it affected me, and what I want to do about it now. My trust is fragile and I need to take special care of it. And I will. I have. I just didn't know why I was being so careful. Now I do.
I guess I can find a lot to say when i have nothing to say.
I had to see an opthamologist for the first time ever. I had a little spot of blood on the white of my left eye. My first thought was, OMG! I've had a stroke! No, no, I'm not an overreactor! Ha.
Well, it turns out it was caused by the advil I was taking for hips, knees, headaches.... It is a blood thinner. It thinned my blood so well it leaked out of the tiny vessels (?), capilaries (?) in my eye. I'll be fine. Just no more advil. Tylenol. So now I have to watch my liver. Egads!
I have been painting a lot lately. No, don't get the idea that I have any skill. No, I just like it. I find it absorbing and relaxing. I have always liked working with colour. Now, I'm trying out working with lines. and really, Mondrian did those squares and it *great Art* so.... On Friday I am going to get a new brown and a pink watercolour pencil. I've been doing lots of trees.
I jsut had the idea to sketch my athame. Maybe I'll do some godesses too. Maybe a goddess in the stlye of Mondrian.
I started using the notebook I found that poem in that I don't remember writing for my morning pages. I have read some of the stuff I'd forgotten about. There was a LOT I'd forgotten about. a part of me remembered and I did not know why I was untrusting of some friends. Now it is clearer. so I can begin to process what happened, how it affected me, and what I want to do about it now. My trust is fragile and I need to take special care of it. And I will. I have. I just didn't know why I was being so careful. Now I do.
I guess I can find a lot to say when i have nothing to say.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Today has been a day of having my thoughts and emotions plunge and climb back to what is level for me over and over. Ya know, no matter what else is going on in my life the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous is my Center. I find there a spirituality that is lacking depth and breadth in any other area of my life. Is it the life or death nature of recovery? Possibly that is what causes us/me to give it the energy that creates the depth and breadth. Such is not needed if one does not see one's spirituality as not a matter of life or death but just a way to view the world. Whatever. Even in the midst of our brokeness many members of A.A. manage to do extraordinary things and share with a level of honesty that I have foudn nowhere esle. Maybe that's why all else pales in comparison.
Monday, January 2, 2012
2012
This is the year I walk out of the forest. OUT. Not out and then find another forest to wander in...which is what it feels like I did last May. I was finding my way out of the forest and walked right into another. Yes, there was a brief sojourn in a meadow. It was not long enough. I need a rest in a nice sunny, flower-filled meadow. A long one. I get to keep coming back to this forest for visits. Yep. That's what they tell me the journey of a childhood sexual abuse survivour looks like. Okay. But I am walking out of this forest and into a nice sunny meadow and I shall linger there and pick flowers and watch butterflies. Yep.
Monday, December 5, 2011
patterns
So after Friday's flashbacks I was in waiting mode. See, I've learned something...after the flashbacks come the emotions. This is actually really helpful. Because I feel less out of control. I also don't feel like the multiverse is having a go at me. Because I know the emotions are part of the pattern. They are never pretty. They are grief, fear, anger. And they are intense and usually overwhelming. But it is not so difficult when they are expected. It seems that when emotions are repressed they *are out in the parking lot doing pushups* until they get released.
I wrote in my Morning Pages the other day that someday I would like to be overwhelmed by happiness. Yeah.
I wrote in my Morning Pages the other day that someday I would like to be overwhelmed by happiness. Yeah.
Friday, December 2, 2011
every day
I already posted over at isurvive.org.uk so you will be spared the grisly details (if anyone reads this).
I went to therapy today and ranted. Rambled. Just went on and on. I thought there was no purpose to it but it would seem that this was not so. After therapy I was just kinda numb. I met friends for a meal and went to a meeting. After eating was when I realized I was just numb. Okay. Busy. I jsut tried to become conscious of my body. So, there I am sitting at a meeting and the flashbacks started. Not really much I could do about it. So, naturally, being me, I pretend all is well. But what was really going on was that I was having flashbacks of my childhood sexual abuse. Now, the falshbacks themselves are a relif actually. They allow things in my life to make so much more sense.
My mother abused me every day. Every Day. She had set it up (or started when I was so young---or both) that I had no idea it wan't like that for everyone. No idea. No way to form the idea that it might be different for others. And she also set it up so that any screaming or crying I did was attributed to my being a Sarah Bernhardt. I've said that already I think. What was new was that it happened every day.
Except maybe when she was at a pta meeting once. She didn't stay in the pta. Or any other outside pursuit.
She has been pushing my boundaries ever more increasingly since I set up apartments. She showed up at work again even though I told her that was not allowed. And she went into my apartment when I was out with the dogs. When confronted by this she did not seem to understand that this is not okay. No, of course she doesn't. She has no boundaries when it comes to me. I do, and I keep restating them. But tomorrow I will get a new lock. I tried to switch locks but they didn't fit and I didn't have the tools to make it fit.
This all happened in one week.
Probably why I freaked out at therapy. Maybe why the flasbacks came.
From what I understand there could be flashbacks for the rest of my life.
Did you know that a child is abused in America every 42 seconds. Yep. Seconds. More than one a minute.
I went to therapy today and ranted. Rambled. Just went on and on. I thought there was no purpose to it but it would seem that this was not so. After therapy I was just kinda numb. I met friends for a meal and went to a meeting. After eating was when I realized I was just numb. Okay. Busy. I jsut tried to become conscious of my body. So, there I am sitting at a meeting and the flashbacks started. Not really much I could do about it. So, naturally, being me, I pretend all is well. But what was really going on was that I was having flashbacks of my childhood sexual abuse. Now, the falshbacks themselves are a relif actually. They allow things in my life to make so much more sense.
My mother abused me every day. Every Day. She had set it up (or started when I was so young---or both) that I had no idea it wan't like that for everyone. No idea. No way to form the idea that it might be different for others. And she also set it up so that any screaming or crying I did was attributed to my being a Sarah Bernhardt. I've said that already I think. What was new was that it happened every day.
Except maybe when she was at a pta meeting once. She didn't stay in the pta. Or any other outside pursuit.
She has been pushing my boundaries ever more increasingly since I set up apartments. She showed up at work again even though I told her that was not allowed. And she went into my apartment when I was out with the dogs. When confronted by this she did not seem to understand that this is not okay. No, of course she doesn't. She has no boundaries when it comes to me. I do, and I keep restating them. But tomorrow I will get a new lock. I tried to switch locks but they didn't fit and I didn't have the tools to make it fit.
This all happened in one week.
Probably why I freaked out at therapy. Maybe why the flasbacks came.
From what I understand there could be flashbacks for the rest of my life.
Did you know that a child is abused in America every 42 seconds. Yep. Seconds. More than one a minute.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Pink is Only a Colour
There is a little girl in pink.
She is blonde with blue eyes.
She has a friendly, open look.
She is hurt by a trusted adult (they were all trusted adults) in ways a child should not know.
I carry that as an ache in my hips.
It's an ugly, rusty machine which sings pretty songs in the voice of a playmate.
The song then turns to screams only the child in pink can hear.
The machine is blue and grey.
It's bigger than the child.
It is the colour of faded clothes. Like men. In work clothes.
The child, caught in the machine, is silent with fear.
For herself, for her friend.
I would see this machine destroyed. Smashed to bits. But it has long since rusted away.
Now, the child, long grown, feels an ache in her hips, in her heart.
I wrote that in March of 2008. I found it recently. I did not remember writing it or the journal entries or tarot readings that went with it. I have not edited it. I am stunned by the power of my own ability to repress that which I cannot look at. Not just put away for later. No. Totally forgotten.
That is the answer to the qestion, *Can't you just take a break from this for a while?* No, not yet. I am afraid I will take a break and totally repress it again. Sometimes I know that the memories I have are mine to keep now. And sometimes I'm not sure they are *set* yet.
She is blonde with blue eyes.
She has a friendly, open look.
She is hurt by a trusted adult (they were all trusted adults) in ways a child should not know.
I carry that as an ache in my hips.
It's an ugly, rusty machine which sings pretty songs in the voice of a playmate.
The song then turns to screams only the child in pink can hear.
The machine is blue and grey.
It's bigger than the child.
It is the colour of faded clothes. Like men. In work clothes.
The child, caught in the machine, is silent with fear.
For herself, for her friend.
I would see this machine destroyed. Smashed to bits. But it has long since rusted away.
Now, the child, long grown, feels an ache in her hips, in her heart.
I wrote that in March of 2008. I found it recently. I did not remember writing it or the journal entries or tarot readings that went with it. I have not edited it. I am stunned by the power of my own ability to repress that which I cannot look at. Not just put away for later. No. Totally forgotten.
That is the answer to the qestion, *Can't you just take a break from this for a while?* No, not yet. I am afraid I will take a break and totally repress it again. Sometimes I know that the memories I have are mine to keep now. And sometimes I'm not sure they are *set* yet.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
so much for decisions
My therapist was not having the *I can't go to my home group* thing. Nope. She said I was just trying to avoid a difficult situation and avoid things that trigger me. While that makes a lot of sense it also means that I won't be healing from the things I'm avoiding. Leaning into my triggers and exploring why they trigger me. And picking up the pieces of a relationship that was broken. See, the woman who was so angry and screaming at me is a trusted friend. No, really. She is one of the very few people who can not only listen to what I have to say about ANYTHING but has some abuse in her own past as well. Which made everything worse. threatened and triggered by a trusted friend. So my homework was to come up with an *I* statement to start the conversation off and talk to my friend about what happened. Easy? Oh no. I had a full blown panick attack in my therapist's office just telling her about it. Couldn't breathe. Panicking about not being able to breathe. Still feeling the physical effects of that. So, since I was not off the hook about going to my home group but was given an assignment and wished luck, off I went. And my anxiety didn't go down any. No, it was physical pain. But my friend sat next to me so I mentioned that I needed to talk to her. Then, of course, I started crying. I can't do much without crying these days. But I got to talk and she talked and she actually understood what had happened even if she didn't know the specifics. Peace reigns again at my home group...at least my internal peace. It IS one of the few places where I can be okay or not okay and people ask me if I AM okay if I look like things are not good. Which is often. Since I go there a few hours after therapy. Maybe what I need to do is get some dinner after therapy and before the meeting. Ya know...HALT (Don't get too Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired)
So, so much for rationalising my attempt at running away.
So, so much for rationalising my attempt at running away.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Where I Am
I can't answer that question really succinctly. But I can take stock. I am in a place of lots of doing but it's kind of a place of lull too. I'm working through a lot but the flashbacks have taken a break. (Yay! Yes, say yay.) They are emotionally top heavy and pull me down into a spiral of emotion that is very intense and difficult. The emotions that come after a flashback are dark and scary. I must process all the emotions that happened at the time of the abuse that were not safe to have at the moment. So, I CAN NOT DEAL WITH CURRENT EMOTIONS in any reasonable way while that is going on. A splinter is worse than a broken bone when I am processing the emotions from a flashback. Yeah, it's bad. And it's difficult and it's draining. I am learning, slowly, to back off from non essential things while I do that. But, I must work and I think that's a good thing. I have to keep my hand on reality in some way. That is how I do it.
I have made some decisions after an unpleasant experience at my home group's last group conscience meeting. Things got out of hand and I felt threatened by another woman and her anger. I decided pretty quickly that I was not going to group conscience meetings for the foreseeable future. But now I think that I will not go to the meeting at all for a while. This meeting takes place on Friday night at 6 which is shortly after therapy. I think that I am too raw and vulnerable to deal with this particular meeting at that time right now. I need to go home and coddle myself after therapy. Yep. I'm pretty sure that's what I'm going to do.
I have made some decisions after an unpleasant experience at my home group's last group conscience meeting. Things got out of hand and I felt threatened by another woman and her anger. I decided pretty quickly that I was not going to group conscience meetings for the foreseeable future. But now I think that I will not go to the meeting at all for a while. This meeting takes place on Friday night at 6 which is shortly after therapy. I think that I am too raw and vulnerable to deal with this particular meeting at that time right now. I need to go home and coddle myself after therapy. Yep. I'm pretty sure that's what I'm going to do.
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