Diet

What are you feeding on? Yeah, no, not going into a post about Nutrition although We Need Food I’m talking about what are you feeding your brain?

PTSD has “a mind of its own” and can be pretty chaotic, however, I’m continuing to learn (key) that if I’m gorging on “negativity” this adds to the mess. Being off social media was a prescriptive-order from my therapist. I honestly didn’t think “it” a problem. However, as I was being inundated by news of people ending their life, I can now say this wasn’t helping my already ongoing thoughts of ending mine.

When my daughter passed away, I went on a reading binge about people who had lost loved ones. Now, there is a time for all things and it was good for a time, but a constant preoccupation with the subject keeps me STUCK on death with no space for living. I’m currently in a place where I can dimly see that this not only hurts me but also hurts those that are left behind. Now, was this a purposeful action? NOPE! However, it was happening and I’m aware of it, now.

Back when I was first diagnosed with fibromyalgia I remember being so desperate for information that I was reading everything about the subject. Goodness, was this a downer. Am I saying you don’t educate yourself? Not, in the least. All I’m saying is that I was borrowing from tomorrow and forgetting about today. And, for some reason I was focusing on the worst case scenarios. Something about my brain that does that.

Anywho, I desire to choose wisely what goes into my brain. My Frail Frame needs to be cared for as a whole. My brain needs a healthy diet as well. Am I saying I’ll never read the ugly? Nope! Just not obsessing with it. Am I going to live with my head on the clouds? Nope, but a bit of an aerial look never hurt anyone. Is this life all their is? Nope, but I’d be foolish to not enjoy the beauty of today.

My mind is a beautiful, intricate part of my whole being. Choosing to care for it well.

 

 

Trying to Get Back

Ya’ll still here? It’s been a L-O-N-G “minute” since I last posted. Goodness life just tumbles through, doesn’t it?

My laptop has taken “ill” so I am attempting to type on an IPad…yeah, not working as smoothly and speedily as I’d like, but I was itching to get back to my writing routine.

An update (in summary): I’ve been “down”, pretty crazy how dark it can get. Made more changes in the pursuit of caring for my mental health. We moved. Adjusting to a new town. I lived in the same town since we came from Mexico in 1975, so theirs tons of adjustments. One being trying to reconcile, in my chaotic brain, that I haven’t abandoned my daughter since the cemetery where her remains lay is further away. Yeah, working through things that might be “normal” to some, to me seem like huge unsurmountable mountains. But learning and trying is the name of the game, and, at the moment, I’m ok with that.

”Routine” is my friend, but it seems to be hiding. And, again, learning that the dictates of my brain, at times, need to be silenced. Trying not to be so hard and rigid so as to flow and enjoy those blessed moments of sanity.

OHHHHHH, guess what? We are expecting our first granddaughter in February! Oh the joy! Yup, the sweetness of a life bringing us lots of sunshine! Hearing her heartbeat for the first time was surreal.

Our life journey continues. Whoever is still here, I’m glad we are walking together. Your companionship is a gift.

YOU would tell me…

My attempt to participate in the “writing through your grief” group was completely stunted by horrible triggers which sent me spiraling for days. Continuing to practice ‘being kind to myself’ I bowed out. Maybe another time, maybe never, who knows. However, the following prompt caused me to pick up my pen…

“How would you love me in this?”

“If I imagined you speaking…you would tell me…”

How would you love me through this? Goodness, you’d be absolutely heartbroken that I’ve been so incredibly sad and inactive. I remember the day we got the “final-NO” in your care. We got home, put you to bed. A family member was here to help (so grateful!), so I was able to go into the back yard to ‘breathe’. I gave your Dad and Brother the latest news, then I walked to that block wall and screamed, “I can’t…!!!” I sobbed, not sure what else I said. Punching that wall was so tempting. Before I knew it, your brother’s tender arms drew me in and held me. Safe…calm…breathe…hold it together. I came back to your side. The sight of your little face was oh, so sad and you were crying. I said, “what’s the matter? Are you ok?” Crying, you answered, “I’m sorry Mom, for hurting you.” YOU HAD HEARD MY BREAKDOWN and blamed yourself for causing my tears and pain. This memory still haunts me. I was mad at myself, mad at the world, BUT NOT YOU. My precious girl ‘taking care of Mom’ as she was finishing her earthly race, God, I have much to learn from you.

You hated to see me sad. You never wanted me to hurt emotionally or physically. You watched me and cared for me.

I remember difficult moments when I’d say, “Angie, I need a hug.” On good days you’d come to me and hug me. On difficult days, you’d say, “Come here.” I’d go to your bedside or couch and lean to you and you’d hug me.

You hated when I was too “homie”. From your small allowance, which by the way you were an amazing steward of, you’d say, “Come on Mom, I’ll buy you lunch.” I’d tell you I could pay so you could use your money for your Starbucks runs, but, no, you wanted to treat me. So we’d go and have Jack-in-the-Crack (haha! that’s what you’d call it). Two ninety-nine cent tacos, fries and a coquita. Caffeine was your friend.

What would you say to me now? Maybe, “Ahí, Lady, what are you doing? I am so JOYFUL. I am with my Savior, where I longed to be.”

I would hope you’d say, “You did everything you could. At the end, I didn’t feel any pain. I heard your goodbyes. I felt your touch.”

I know you’d say, “I am so happy Chubbs is there all the time. And, I love Maria.”

“I’ll see you soon, Mom!”

 

The Mind

The human mind, many a war has been fought and won within its hidden chambers. The battles can be fierce and unrelenting. Its doors can be unknowingly opened, allowing ferocious enemies to come in and wreck havoc.

Ghosts have no power to hurt, yet somehow I’ve given them the power to haunt and torture me. Dismissing these ghosts does not nullify the reality of past events. However, inviting them in and allowing them to set up permanent camp is a choice.

Have you ever contemplated digging up a corpse? Yes, you read right! Well, I have. In my chaotic spirals that thought has entered my mind. As the spinning stops, the reality hits like a boulder and the onslaught of questions floods…would that bring her back? would that bring you comfort? would it make everything ok? would this…on…and on…and on…

In a sense, a sort of “digging up” has been happening around here. Now, this has been a much needed endeavor, however, there comes a time to move forward beyond dissecting that putrid muck. I refuse to allow any more abuse to happen at the hands of ghosts. NOW, I HAVE A CHOICE!!! NOW, I HAVE A VOICE!!!

“…Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” ~ Phil. 4:8 NLT

Grateful for days or even moments of clarity of mind. For moments that allow me to breathe without restraint. Today, I will choose to think and meditate on TRUTH.

Update

Howdy Fellow Sojourners 😀

It has been a while since I’ve popped in here and simply said “hello”. I’ve been mostly laid out. At one point, I seriously considered being hospitalized. Forever grateful for my amazing family who has been here to have the hard conversations and to help me make decisions when my chaotic brain just isn’t functioning.

In the month of May my son and I participated in a Photo Challenge by @whatsyourgrief on IG. A word prompt was given for each day of the month. We would share a picture and write something prompted by the word/picture. It has been really interesting to see and read the different takes from others and specially from my son. Exploring our grief together has been a “gift” to me. Through one of the posts I found @refugeingrief. I’ve signed up for their 30-day course Writing Your Grief for the month of June. These exercises have kept me writing everyday, even if I don’t post here.

Exploring your grief through writing, pictures, drawing, or whatever you find helpful is so important. It’s a healthy way of dealing with all the crazy emotions going on in the human body.

Ready pen continues to write, even if it’s just a “word”.

Grateful for all who visit, stop by or stay for a while. Let’s continue to listen deeply and write freely🖋

Birth Date

There are records in a village of Mexico that state that a girl was born. A home birth, common to the land. No gender reveal, no birth announcement, no baby shower, no pictures on social media or elsewhere. Oh, how things have changed.

“Back in the day” is now part of my vocabulary. Who would have thought I would still be here today, 53 years later.

As Job, I have thought, “I should have never been born” or “what is the point”. Crazy brain! You know, for such a mess up like me, I like to think I did something “right”. Yes, I’m learning to shift through the crazy muck in my chaotic brain…an ongoing process. In the midst of it all I have had the privilege and joy of being a Mom. Four humans that lived, some for a very short time, in my womb. A miracle indeed!

Last year my son and his girlfriend treated my hubby and I to a fancy dinner overlooking the ocean. The sunset took my breath away. For a moment “everything” was alright. The vastness and beauty of the ocean reminds me of God’s amazing mercy and grace. Beauty in the midst of gutting pain.

After dinner we took a stroll down the malencon of La Paz, Baja…so refreshing. We ended the evening laughing and dancing under the stars. For a moment “everything” was normal, although one is deeply aware it’s a new normal. And, somewhere in it all, it feels perfect. A beautiful evening etched on my heart. Beauty for ashes, indeed.

So TODAY I am grateful that:

  • My husband doesn’t know the pain of widowhood
  • My son doesn’t know the pain of being an orphan

AND, somewhere amidst the thick fog, together, we will find a “lantern” to light up another moment in time.

A hug, a smile…laughter.

Listening to the beat of their heart

 

Regular Routine

Yes! A full week of regular routine. My whole being is so giddy 😀

If I ever doubt or question that caring for my whole person is beneficial, going off routine proves the opposite. However, being too rigid about routine can cause extra turmoil in my scrambled brain. Flexibility is essential.

This Frail Frame needs to be cared for Spiritually with good Nutrition cause let’s face it We Need Food to fuel, and to keep this achy-breaky-body-moving with some form of exercise. So Let’s get Physical!

The weekend is here. Go do something fun, new and exciting or sit, relax and enjoy a good cup of coffee. Get refreshed, renewed, re-energized. Get lost in a good book or write a piece from the inner most part of your soul or watch a good movie. Remember TODAY is a Gift! Tomorrow is not here yet. What will be etched in your memory from TODAY?