Tag: anxiety

Tools for the Journey

I’d like to pass along a few things that are helping me in coping with my PTSD, anxiety, panic attacks, depressions, etc., etc.

small print in BIG BOLD LETTERS – I am NOT, I repeat, I am NOT a professional. My journey “continues”. What is working now, might not work later. And…so…on and so forth. Just sharing what is working for me.

  • I bought noise canceling headphones. So far so good. Also, I’m making it a practice of wearing them in the sauna. I found a guided meditation program, which typically lasts about 15 minutes. I either “listen” to that or soft instrumental music with my eyes closed to avoid distractions.
  • For the smells, I bring in a washcloth with peppermint on it. As I practice my breathing, I’ve incorporated placing the cloth in close proximity so as to breath in the peppermint. It invigorates me (added bonus, clears my sinuses).
  • My son shared with me some info about the carnivorous diet. I’m NOT all in, but I am trying. So far, all I can say is that “beef-makes-me-muy-happy” 😀

The journey continues. So grateful for clarity, and, yes, I’m beginning to sense a “spunk” in my step. AND, maybe, just maybe there is JOY in the “mourning”.

Grief Unchained

Have you ever read something or been told something, so you think “you know” and are “prepared“? (OMG, this word does NOT belong next to or in the vicinity of grief!!!) — Yeah, no creative writing going on around here.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about all the information that is out there regarding “the first year after losing a loved one”. First…everything!

My first Christmas without my daughter was a total BLUR! However, I was “prepared” for “it” to be the worst. AND, let me tell you, I attempted “everything” I had read or been advised to do in order to “minimize” and get through the pain. I even attempted to “be-other-centered” so as to not “turn-in-to-myself”(other peoples words, not mine). Oh, the going caroling at the senior center; the visiting shut-ins and singing songs; the hospitality. What was I thinking?!?!?! Let me tell you, the “pleasing-people-chart” was filled with stars and happy faces. However, I was dying inside. But, true to myself (haha!), I kept this up until I collapsed. Which landed me at my doctors office; which landed me in the ER; which landed me in therapy.

In one of my many talks with My Grieving Friend she said to me, “Grief demands our attention. You cannot ignore it. It will show up whether you like it or not. You might as well pay attention to it and deal with it in a healthy manner.” Now, did I think I was ignoring my grief? Absolutely not! I was just trying to put one foot in front of the other (and, pleasing people while I was at it). My physical body knew otherwise, and hence its total shut down.

Sitting here today – my second Christmas without my daughter – the anesthesia completely gone…fully awake…there isn’t a substance or activity in this world that will take away the pain or even remotely minimize it!

MY DAUGHTER IS NEVER WALKING THROUGH THE DOOR

MY DAUGHTER IS NEVER – ETC., ETC., ETC.,

This side of heaven “it” will never be ok. I’m a Scrooge! I’m a Grinch! If, I could hibernate until all the joyful-sounds were over, I would. However, I know that when I come out of hibernation, the pain will still be there😥💔

🔔Jingle🔔

Every jingle, every joyful song…salt to an open wound

stinging…burning…searing pain

Is this the point? Is this the purpose? No…not really

Just go with it! Just enjoy it! ~~~ easy for you to say

How do I convince my mind to think differently?

How do I tell my heart not to feel?

How do I “go with it” without falling apart?

Am I the only one feeling this?

Does everyone “really” enjoy this?

Is this, too, a Masquerade?

Short Circuit

~⊗~Beautiful morning walk with the family. Brisk pace, chatting away. All is good in the neighborhood. The trail is between two streets, but it’s not that busy, so it’s a quiet morning. The feeling of being “normal”, until a siren blares – short circuit:

>all goes blank. ears ring. blasting noise. head spins. legs become as noodles. I need to sit down. I need to run. escape. what happened? somehow I’m sitting. nauseated. breathe. put head between legs. rock…rock. get grounded. I can’t. scream. nothing comes out. cold sweat. I can’t breathe. breathe. what happened? it’s so loud. I can’t hear. wasn’t I walking? how did I sit down? what happened? b-r-e-a-t-h-e!

~⊗~Headed to church. Something feels “off”, but lately, everything feels off. Do some of my breathing exercises. We park. Here we go, let’s do this. Walking toward the building holding my hubby’s hand. Keep telling myself, “I can do this.” Wait?!?! There’s lots of people by the entrance. I hear a “loud” laugh – short circuit:

>in a bubble. disconnected. I need to run. escape. hide. why is it so noisy? this crowd. books in hand. what do I do. more crowds. someone hugged me. I’m talking. what am I saying? are you ok? no! escape. run. I’m suffocating. my husband. grab. I can’t. shut up! why are they laughing? in the car. at home. b-r-e-a-t-h-e!

Just two incidents of this horrible disconnect that happens out of nowhere, with no rhyme or reason. It frustrates me, aggravates me an makes me feel so out of control. How do I plan for the unpredictable? How do I explain the unexplainable?

When I come back “into orbit”, I’m spacey and out of sorts. What happens to my body? What happens to my mind? Will this ever get better or will it get worse?

AND so I continue to learn. I continue to shed the mask of “everything is good”, and am learning to ask for help. I am learning to communicate with my safe-people, even when I know I’m repeating myself. By the way, my safe people are AMAZING!!! And, I am learning that NOT everybody will understand, and…that…is…ok!

Senseless

Is everything business? Is nothing sacred? That proverbial “used-sales-man” pitch. They sell you a Lamborghini while you drive off in a lemon. My stomach turns, I get angry, my heart aches even more.

Just a thought: Maybe, just maybe…NO SERIOUSLY…”sales-people” at funeral homes and cemeteries need to be better trained on how to handle grieving loved ones (material for another post).

The cemetery – when one is being taken on a “tour” to pick out the “best-spot” for your loved ones resting place (this is just wrong!), it almost seems like it’s a tour of a resort with lots of sales pitches. Gosh-darnit, I HATE IT! It was the day after my daughter took her last breath. All I remember is a buzzing sound in my head and just having to get this done…IT had to get done. Could it had been handled better? I think so!

The cemetery’s website showcases beautiful manicured grounds, while the reality is far, far from it. Was this Photoshop or taken somewhere else? Fake advertising!

I have been “assaulted” with sights that hurt me deeply! Tractor tracts so deep that I wondered if they did wheelies on my daughters site. A deep, deep hole as her site was sinking (which I reported and reported and was told it would be fixed. However, they took so long we ended up fixing it ourselves because I could not stand the site of this anymore). Flowers and decorations thrown away. And, yesterday, her stone was completely covered with mud and her decorations where cast aside.

Am I petty? Am I overly sensitive? I say NOT!

I’ve been so upset that I’ve thought of taking a shovel, digging her out and bringing her home. YES!!!!!!!! Kinda, like when you take your kid home cause that’s the only way to protect them. Yes, I sound like a lunatic! At times, I scare myself. But this is my reality. This is what I live with. I believe her remains don’t feel any of this BS, but this Momma’s whole being trembles at such horrific sights. The grave is horrid enough without all this muck!

Venting…Vomiting…BEING REAL…grrrrrrrrrrr!

Stigma

The stigma and shame behind “labels” can create enormous havoc in an already broken and fragile state of mind. The struggle to cope and understand is greatly affected by once upbringing and the prevailing mindset of those around you.

I grew up in an environment where the mindset was that you fended for yourself and vigilantly hid any sign of weakness. Talking about “it” was a resounding NO…not an option. Going to the doctor was not an option, either, let alone a mental health specialist. Finances were slim to nothing. Any monies had would go to feeding the many mouths that begged for a piece of tortilla to appease their growling stomachs.

Any reference to a psychiatrist or psychologist was in disgust or disdain saying, “that person must be totally crazy to go to that! That’s not needed. They are good for nothing.”

There was an auntie who dared to venture into that forbidden territory. Oh, the things that were whispered about her. Those words cut to the heart. No one else dare venture out. They did not want to be part of those cutting conversations and side glances.

Do to extreme circumstances, another family member saw herself in need of venturing out. She did, however, in the strictest most hidden way. No one must know. Eventually, she stopped going. Maybe it was too difficult to keep up the front…we will never know. In her ultimate darkest moment, the “help” needed was denied and with no power to keep fighting, she ultimately succumbed to it all.

Many months have ensued, the memory of accepting my medical doctor’s advice comes to mind. The initial phone call. The first appointment. All the voices within and without. The fight to not get up from that chair. The fight to not flee that office…to run out. Each session, a struggle to accept.

I think I’m starting to accept…I think I’m starting to give my therapist a chance…I think this is NOT weakness, but strength…I think this is not shameful, but a necessity.

~ ~ ~ AND…it is…OK ~ ~ ~

Back from Oz

Back from the land of Oz. And, by the way, I never found that yellow brick road or the Wizard. I guess that’s just a fairy tale :-/

I decided to get away for a few days with a friend I hadn’t seen in a few years. The decision making was a grueling back and forth process, but I was proud of myself for finally making the decision to go. However, this chaotic brain of mine seems to have forgotten to upload the latest upgrade: “Girl, you can’t! Not right now!”

Acceptance…a fluid place to arrive. Just when I think I’m there, I realize that I’m still fighting it. What is it that makes me want to please people? What is it that makes me want to do my old normal, when I am acutely aware of my new normal? What is normal? Questions, questions that bounce around in this very noisy and jumbled head of mine.

I ventured off into new territory without my safe place and my safe people. Yikes! Just typing this makes me cringe. Add to this the noisiness and crowds of airports. The crammed quarters of airplanes. Well, no wonder all my senses were on high alert and I was being triggered over and over again..

Finally arriving at my destination…phew, a sigh of relief! The smile and hug of a friend…into the car and off we go…a fun time awaits us.

Blah, blah, blah…talk, talk, talk…directions in hand…smiles, laughs – – – – – – –

SCREECH, SLAM, S—L—O—W—M—O……………………………….three car pile up, we are rear ended!!!

It’s all a blur…somehow, I got out of the car, sat on the curve clutching my daughters animal pillow (a comfort accessory). More noises – people, sirens…lots and lots of noises.

⇐⇐⇐Total Meltdown⇒⇒⇒

I’m home in my safe place with my safe people…recovering. Life continues at snail pace, but it continues. Thankful for a place called home 😀