Tag: experiences

Soap Box

My crazy brain can go from one thing to another or can be a totally Scrambled Mind

Thinking of going into my humorous, sarcastic rant (haha!), I mean post, and I wondered, “what exactly is the meaning of a ‘soap box’ “, so here you are. I figured you might be interested in its meaning:

“A soapbox is a raised platform on which one stands to make an impromptu speech, often about a political subject. The term originates from the days when speakers would elevate themselves by standing on a wooden crate originally used for shipment of soap or other dry goods from a manufacturer to a retail store.” ~ Wikipedia

Now that we have taken care of that important issue, allow me to “get on the wooden crate” and share with you some pet-peeves.

Perfume – hey, I’m all for smelling good and all, but seriously?! Does one need to bathe in this substance in order to achieve the desired lure? I just don’t get it! Again, “common sense” people! I was in the next changing stall, just minding my own business, so energetic after my workout, and BAM! A never ending spray…and spray…and spray. No one told me I needed a breathing mask. No one said I’d be fumigated by a substance that would make my sinuses go into a horrid stinging and sneezing frenzy. Ouch!

Sneezing and coughing – can we all agree that it is so NASTY to be sprayed by someone else’s germs? Is it sooooooo difficult to “cover” your sneeze and/or cough? Do you seriously think I want to wear your body fluids, even when it’s just a mist? I’m no germaphobe, but this just crosses all kinds of lines 8-/

Right of Way – I thought I knew how this works, but lately I’m beginning to question it. I’ve almost been trampled upon several times with absolutely no “excuse me” from the other person. At a walking trail, at the store, in the gym (who knew this place was much more than an exercise establishment?). I simply don’t get it.

Until the next time…where will we go? what will we see?

Do you have any pet peeves?

 

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 ~ ~ ~

Junior High

Her awkwardness was evident. Not really sure she belonged. She and her mother had ventured a long way from their quaint little village. A never ending, so it seemed, highway brought them to the much talked about “norte”. All she knew was that she was with her mother on a journey to “visit” her Dad. At 9 years of age, no details are needed, just that you are going on a trip. Little did she know that “el norte” would become home.

Years passed rapidly since their arrival and now here she was in another unknown, chaotic environment, where puberty was at its peak. Who knew “bullying” would become such a hot topic? Who knew “mean girls” would be made into a movie? All she knew was she needed to find a way to survive. Why was it that every place she went, including “home” was a fight to stay alive? Life and the pursuit of purpose and meaning continued, hoping to find less pain.

She was not one of “them”. She was not one of “those”. Where did she belong? Where did she fit in? Her clothes had no label, but always clean. Her shoes needed to last and last, cause unless they were falling apart, she would not get another. Who knew outfits needed to match? Well, she knew, she just couldn’t do anything about it. New clothes and shoes and supplies for the school year was not in her radar.

Mr. Diaz was a kind man. He invited her to “The Mecha Club”. She decided to go, maybe she’d fit in? Who knew? Walking in with heavy feet – her feet have been heavily dragging for most of her life – there she was. Her thrift store attire was no match for this clean and pressed group. Stared at, looked up and down to see if she matched the criteria…if she fit in. What torture for a girl who couldn’t hang with the outside crowd, but she sure didn’t seem to fit in with the in crowd.

What was it that attracted her to the gang life? She sure didn’t fit in. She sure didn’t belong. Somehow she managed to get “similar” clothes, tried the make up and hair look AND got the nickname “La Sleepy” — how’s that for a fear inducing name?

Initiation antics followed. Alcohol and dabbling in other illegal substances. Although alcohol had already been the numbing agent of choice. It was the only way to numb the pain of the abuse ( The Runaway).

Junior High, a bridge between kidhood and younghood. A place where fitting in felt more like a pinball machine, however, the “scoring” was way, way off. And, being an immigrant girl with an accent did not help the volley from one place to another, from one group to another.

It seems like ages ago, and yet so readily available in the memory bank. Survived, and life continued with more road to travel on this journey of life.

Introvert

From “Introvert Nation Movement” FB Page:

“You look pissed off, what’s wrong?” It’s just my face…

“I don’t always have time to call people back, but when I do, I don’t”

“I hate when someone rings my doorbell because then I have to drop whatever I’m doing to be silent and pretend I’m not home”

Finally getting some “balance” from the horrible spiral of last weekend. In one of my “sitting staring at nothing” episodes, I scrolled through this FB Page. Social Media triggers me to no end, so I had been taking a break from it. I found this page by “mistake” as I was looking through my daughter’s FB page (something I do often).

I’ve been told that I am “the life of the party”. Now, I’m wondering if it was all a masquerade (Plastic Faces).

Some posts are hilarious and made for a good laugh. While others are material for deep thought.

Have you ever had one of those “aha, moments” when you realized that you are different than what you thought?

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 😀

Depth

I read this on a page in FB called Introvert Nation:

“I don’t think people understand how stressful it is to explain what’s going on inside your head when you don’t even understand it yourself.”

On a total side note, I think I’m an introvert…just sayin!

Anywho, I decided to do something I used to do (in the dinosaur ages, so it seems). I used to write in a more “today” kinda-way, with a sort of pondering/meditating to the flow of the writing piece. Although I really enjoy writing in any kind of way.

In my FB Memories a video popped up from 3 years ago. It gives 5 points that encouraged and prompted me to “guide” my thoughts. Encouraged by Natalie Goldberg when she said, “if you are not afraid of the voices inside you, you will not fear the critics outside you.” Here goes…

1) “Own Your Own Happiness” – I’m 52 years old. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done. I can’t please all of the people, all of the time. It’s exhausting! Critics are everywhere. I’ve been a professional and a stay at home mom. I’ve had my children in public school, private school, homeschool. I’ve been crazy out in the world and settled and homie (some critics would still say that I’m still just plain-ol-crazy…hey, they might be right!). Just to name a few things…and I’ve been criticized for every single one of them.

2) “Challenge Your Own Story” – I hate the word “victim”! I dislike being pitied! I’ve been molested, raped, assaulted, beaten, BUT I refuse to let this define me! Each “season” I’ve lived and, by God’s grace, have come THROUGH has made me who I am today. However, I will not stay quiet about who I am and where I’ve been. No shame in my game! This season of my life has me sunk in deep sorrow and grief from the loss of my beautiful daughter. I deal with crying all the time, thoughts of suicide, PTSD, panic attacks…AND I’m not ashamed to talk about it or write about it. I don’t need to hide (unless it’s a really bad day, then I’ll be under the covers for most of the day).

3) “Enjoy the Journey (NOT just the destination)” – Today is a gift! Be fully present. Enjoy the baby years; the toddler years, even the teenage years of your children. Enjoy those soccer games, baseball games, valet, recitals. Enjoy the house full…the empty nest will come soon enough. Enjoy that you can jump and run and eat whatever you want, cause, people, I’m here to tell you that “season” comes to an end really quick. Enjoy the sunrise, that sunset…the moon and the stars. Enjoy that cup of coffee, that donut or that salad. Don’t miss today while you are stuck in the past or reaching for tomorrow. Celebrate along the way! There is JOY in the process.

4) “Make Relationships Count” – Trust even when you’ve been betrayed. Don’t carry others mistakes to the new relationships. Don’t get “historical”, stop keeping lists. This person is here for this moment in time. Friendships are messy (this is a continual struggle for me…still), but still be open to friendships. Know the difference between friends and acquaintances. Some will stay for a while, others just for a moment, but each will leave an imprint on your life journey.

5) “Balance Work and Play” – Everything is not serious everyday. Take time to be silly. Take time to laugh. Take time to dance. Your “job” will continue even without you. For 10 months my entire focus was my daughter. We colored, played dots, got pedicures, took naps together…I will NEVER regret having put everything on hold. I’ve been told that now it’s “my time”, that I’m free to do things I enjoy. Guess what? That was “my time” AND life was still happening…it did not stand still. Things were accomplished in those 10 months that stories are of. No mega trial brief could top that time with my girl.

Thank you for taking the time to read. Thank you for “walking” with me. One step at a time is all it takes, and if you need to sit, that’s ok, too 🙂

Randomness

♦♦♦I’m torn between the smell of BO or perfume. Just can’t seem to make up my mind. But then again, it might be the smell of garlic (remember Putrid Smell?). Something about working out next to a person that is bathe in perfume, even if it’s “Passion” by Elizabeth Taylor. People, sweat and perfume just don’t mix well! On the other hand there is the o-natural-bod-scent…yeah, well, enough said. I’m really leaning toward a third option, a nice clean smell, what do you think?

♦♦♦Trying to wrap my head around full on make up – at the gym – at 3:00am. I have some serious questions y’all. Are your lashes going to fall? Is it waterproof? Is that white towel going to remain white? Did you sleep? Why? Why? Why? Ok, I’m done…I’m moving on 😉

♦♦♦ Why do I always pick the bathroom stall that is out of toilet paper. Seriously, this is getting old. Is my guardian angel sleeping on the job or what? The things I have to come up with. If there really is a “big brother” always watching, Big-Bro has gotten a lot of laughs at my expense. I should be generously compensated for providing entertainment to Big-Bro. This is high quality entertainment, people.

~~ Laughter is good! Sarcasm is…well…sarcasm ;-p ~~

On a serious note, my Therapist recommended a “service dog” to help with my PTSD. We are seriously contemplating it. Has anyone else tried this? What’s your take?

“When writing the story of your life, don’t let anyone else hold the pen.” ~ Anonymous

My Beginning

“We all begin and end in darkness – the womb and the grave. We’re here to find and share as much light as we can in between the darkness.” ~ Naomi Esther

My Beginning ~~~

Born on April 1966, in Acatic, Jalisco, Mexico, at home. Pregnancy #15 out of 16, most died of childhood diseases or miscarriages. Seven of us made it to adulthood. Of those seven, two have died, one has been missing since 2009. I am the youngest of them all.

A lifetime of experiences which have left scars and wounds. Passionate about going from victim, not just to “survivor”, but to VICTOR. Learning that life is NOT a sprint, but a long and arduous walk along a road that has twists and bends and highs and lows and ups and downs. Accepting those “extreme lows and down” times.

“Our experiences are seeds: they are useless unless planted and our redemption is what grows from them.” ~ Naomi Esther

Each scar has a story. Learning be fearless about speaking “it” out loud. Learning to remember, without getting stuck in the past. Learning to live in the present, and trusting my tomorrows to the One who is already there.

“Scars – I suppose I love my scars because they have stayed with me longer than most people have.” ~ Nikita Gill

THANK YOU to all the follows and the likes. Grateful to share this life journey with you all. Grab some water…the journey continues ❤

 

PTSD Diagnosis

“PTSD: Symptoms may include nightmares or unwanted memories of the trauma, avoidance of situations that bring back memories of the trauma, heightened reactions, anxiety, or depressed mood.
Behavioral: agitation, irritability, hostility, hypervigilance, self-destructive behavior, or social isolation
Psychological: flashback, fear, severe anxiety, or mistrust
Mood: loss of interest or pleasure in activities, guilt, or loneliness
Sleep: insomnia or nightmares
Also common: emotional detachment or unwanted thoughts”
Information obtained from Mayo Clinic website
The holidays of 2017 were absolutely brutal. My daughter had been gone a little over 6 months. She loved, loved the holidays. Christmas was one of her favorites. I called her Elf (remember the movie?), she called me Scrooge (that tells you something). She loved decorating. I think our home would have been a winter-wonderland if we would have had the finances to allow her to do it. But she did great with what we had. Her last Christmas with us she sat and watched as I decorated. The joy in her eyes was all worth it. She was so happy.
Trying to honor her memory I was “trying” to do Christmas, but my body would not have it. Stuffing my feelings didn’t help. I ended up passing out, and later in the ER because my doctor thought I was having a heart attack. Given my family history (The Unexpected) he wanted to rule out any cardiovascular issues. Thankfully “all” was good with my heart. He recommended I go to counseling. This was a hard pill to swallow and accept, because I “always had it all together”.
Receiving the PTSD diagnosis was surreal. My initial thoughts were, “no, not me!” “isn’t this only for soldiers? I’m not a soldier. I haven’t been to combat.” “wait, what will people think?” “I can’t tell anyone, this doesn’t make sense” and on and on and on.
Watching the show “Madam Secretary”, the main actress was dealing with PTSD. I broke down uncontrollably saying, “that’s me!!!” It was surreal to “watch myself” on someone else.
Not sure what this all means. Not sure how to handle this. Not sure of anything. Just putting one foot in front of the other and at times simply curling up in a ball “until it passes”.
Scrambled Mind is something I deal with a lot. I learned about Six Word Story from a grief website as they were doing #griefinsixwords. Being a “wordy” person, it was difficult when my mind was so scrambled, to write anything down. Putting thoughts into six words helped. In fact, that’s how I started dabbling in poetry and finding quotes. Simple yet so inspiring. As Matt Haig puts it:
“…A short optimistic quote isn’t cheap. It can be forged in pain and have the strength of survival. It can reframe your whole perspective…”
Acceptance brings peace. Finding ways to cope is part of my present journey. AND so we continue on this life journey one step at a time…and if need be we sit and give ourselves permission to Just be…