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Tuesday, December 3, 2019

Hold on tight, It's going to be a bumpy ride.

If I get tired my emotions get steep. If I am feeling well and happy my emotions get steep.
Sometimes I just feel "normal" (which is how I know there really is such a thing) and that is nice.
But I can feel tired and too high, immensely happy and tragically sad at the same time. I am certain everyone can feel these things, but I am also certain that I feel them too intensely.
Last night we watched a new show "Good Omens" (or something like that) and I enjoyed it. But then later I find my mind taking me places that I am not sure are safe. Conspiracies, messages, signs, symbols, omens...
and I cry as I realize just how delicately balanced upon the threshold of "crazy" I really am.
The crying helps release some sort of toxins as I once again diligently strive to stay "sane."

and big sigh...
What am I?
I am intelligent yet delicately balanced.
My daughter says that fragile things are more valuable and they become more valuable with time because not as many survive. She tells me this so that I know it is okay that I am fragile, she still loves me and values me.
And that is so very nice to remember right now.
So I am fragile
and yet incredibly tough...
or is it determined?
or tenacious?
Whatever.
I just needed to release and confess my balance with insanity that is kind of getting to me right now
because I am still stabilizing and I wonder how long it will take and I wonder if I ever really will be "stable" again and maybe I even wonder if I ever really was... But the insanity of me is definitely more intense and the adjustment and learning to accept it as part of me is difficult. Also, what lays before me? What is going to happen to me? How will I handle the tragedies that are sure to come?
I am sacred.
Today I wonder if we once again need to up the meds? A thing I always hate since there is greater risk of negative side effects and I hate that I need them anyway... I want to be okay with out them. Yet I am so immensely grateful for modern medicine and that we have them at all. I can't even begin to imagine where I would be without them.
At points in my life I used to cry every time I saw a dead animal on the road. And this was in my adult life. A phase that I am fairly certain I went through more than once and that lasted much longer than you would think.
another big sigh.
I am like a baby sometimes
and that is one of the things brain injury does to people; makes us much more infantile and childlike.

So Good night -no, day-, sleep tight. -No -wake up and hold on tight.
the end.
and blogging still helps.
aaahhhh, my new drug of choice
Good Day friends.



Sunday, December 1, 2019

Nailed it Cont...

...Sometimes, as a nail I won't hold, and I refuse to be part of the project the hammer is trying to beat me into.
...And sometimes I am also a hammer and I need to be. Hitting the target for an intended purpose that is not entirely my own.
So Hammer or Nail
I hope whichever I am when I am, I am working with the Carpenter of Higher Purpose.

Saturday, November 30, 2019

Nailed It

“I’d rather be a hammer than a nail” say Simon and Garfunkel.
And I wonder, “what would I rather be?”
A hammer is a tool that is used to drive the nail. Without the hammer the nail is pretty useless however it’s job as a hammer is to beat the nail down. It has to drive the nail so hard that it will penetrate and hold durable pieces of a planned whole together. The hammer has an obligation to drive hard but not too hard and it needs to drive at precisely the right angle or it will destroy the nail rendering it useless. But once the hammer has driven the nails it is no longer useful. Also, as a tool, it is only useful if it is being used by someone else to do something that it will only be part of for a short time.
The nail simply has to hold things together and yet it cannot do that and is basically useless without taking the very hard and repetitive beatings from the hammer. The hammer that is doing someone else’s bidding. But once the nail is driven, granted it is driven straight and it didn’t cave and bend incorrectly under the pressure, then it has a job to do for the remainder of the existence of the structure it is holding. But the nail is usually not alone in its job, it works together with a team to hold.
So I wonder, would I rather be a hammer than a nail?
And I think no, I am not so good at driving hard and I’m not too good at being a tool.
So maybe I am a nail, and all I really need to do is hold it together and stay straight in spite of all the  unconscionable tools beating me down.

Thursday, November 28, 2019

Thanksgiving


A lot can happen in a year.
Last Thanksgiving we were on the southern side of our state where animals, in general, are more scarce but spirit animals were still showing up -at least for me. Two lizards were especially interesting. Running to disappear faster then they usually do this time of year. They ran because I reached out to touch them, uncertain if they were real or visions.  They were too fast so in all honestly I don't know. https://trustedpsychicmediums.com/spirit-animals/lizard-spirit-animal/ . The parallel is uncanny.
On thanksgiving day last year I wrote out whatever returning memories or processing was in my head in the wee hours of the night because my body would not and did not need sleep. I ran a mile or two (maybe more) on my broken tendon ankle. I made a flock of adorable paper turkeys and then hide them with prizes for the kids in a an incredible spot by the river. I laughed and helped with the meal anyway I could. I ate very little even of the dinner and pies. I was not really trying to but rather food had little appeal and need for it was laking. I was getting close to the 10 lbs dropped in 2 weeks without any effort.
I fed and walked the dog and played with the little ones. I laughed with and educated the olders on spirit animals. My own kids were a touch (or a lot) embarrassed. I lived at least 1000 lives that day and my mind was working so fast and was so sharp I could have landed a rocket on the moon single handed.
We went swimming by the full moon light that night or the next and I could feel every water molecule of the perfectly temperatured water. I could do more and better pull ups on the diving board than anyone, including the military vet that is much stronger and younger than I.
And all with my heart hurting constantly; likely from the cortisol and/or endorphins I would feel regularly surging through it.
I was higher than a kite.
I was manic.

Within the next year it would be dismissed and denied.
and my body, mind and heart, would not handle it well.
Reckless endangerment on at least 9 counts by the medical providers that were supposed to be looking out for me and protecting me. The ones who are supposed to know about TBI and PTSD and how those things can effect ones mood stability.

This year I am 3 months into the stabilization after the very long battle to understand and figure out my head and know who and what to trust while trying to figure out where to go.
After too long of trying to handle it mostly on my own.
Too long in the battle for my sanity, my safety, my stability and my life in which I was:
So confused by the views of the those who were the professionals.
So confused by the chemistry of me and the treachery of my heart.
So confused by the swinging and the surging of emotions and physiology.
So confused by the story and the words that were said when I was broken in my head.
This year we were supposed to be with my family. But I am being triggered lately. Angry. Hurt. Betrayed again and again. Alone. Shushed and Shunned.
They do not understand.
It is too much for them.
my trauma
and I am alone again.
with TBI
only this time extra screwed up by this one guy
and I don't quite know why
but people will reply
"just let it die"
but "it" is I
And I WILL NOT DIE
so
play it safe.
Don't want to explode
One sister is already too offended
and she needs a safe place too
she needs her family
she has had so much trauma herself
...not fair for me to be triggered
not fair for me to be mad
... and yet it absolutely is.
So respect her need for space from me
seems the right or at least safe and kind choice.
So, with the husband's side again -only this time on the Northern End.
And I am dull and boring. A shadow of what I was a year ago.
... A shadow...
that is a bit how I feel these days.
A lot can happen in a year.

And while I have a lot to be thankful for I also have a lot that really angers me because people have no idea and they are often asses because of it.
The other day I texted my friend who has endured abuses in the medical system when she had a TBI and has endured more than any human should ever have to. I texted her "sometimes the rejection hurts"
She replied "OH, I do understand all too well, my friend...big part of overall message...for me the pain/aguish of the aftermath... judgments...
Cold betrayals...far surpassed the actual terror/physical beating where I was left to die..."
I am so very thankful for this beautiful lady who has endured so much and who keeps getting back up, not just for herself but for others, even for me. I love her and I get back up for her too. 
So this Thanksgiving I am thankful, so incredibly and immensely thankful, for those friends and family members who have been so kind and patient. Who have listened and know me well enough to know, right now I need to be kept safe.
And I am so immensely grateful for my new neuropsychologist who literally saved my life by making sure I got put on the right medication and quick. And she keeps doing it and keeps helping me get back up every time I take another hit. Dr. She, who understands, and has made sure I know, that my safety should not have been and should not be compromised for others I have been too soft on and have cared too much for to the detriment of my self. 



Tuesday, November 26, 2019

My Emotions Need Me.

Yesterday:
One hell of a day.
Dark for sure
but I bounced back
soooo much quicker this time.
Today:
Dr. She and then a new kind of therapy
Rapid Eye Technology
Interesting.
A bit nervous
"will this push me into mania?"
no, it is going well.
intersting.
Listening to my internal higher self
I feel sadness
I want to feel compassion
But I already do
a lot.
And there is beauty in sadness. It would not be sad if it was not beautiful.
My mission, my goal, my crusade, whatever it is supposed to be called
"to protect"
I feel something. "I don't want to hurt him... but I have to" ..."I feel like I have to protect him from himself" "I feel like I need to protect them from themselves"
Releasing. What am I releasing?
His burden... It is not my burden. It was never supposed to be.
She reframes: "he is accountable for his actions, not you"
"he is"
RET therapist is right.
Reframe: He is responsible for his actions and his actions have brought him here.
Release, reframe, release
but something I'm trying to release is fighting back, pressing on my mind
threatening my grounding
...wanting to go too high...
Anger!
it will not be released.
It is fighting against me
or am I fighting against it.
"what do you feel?"
...."I need my anger" "I don't want my anger" "but I need my anger?"
But something else
... "my anger needs me"
My anger needs me and I need my anger.
"I can accept it for what it is"
"I can see it for what it is"
And like magic, it is released.
I need my anger and it needs me and by accepting that and accepting it for what it is I no longer have to fight against. I do not need to ruminate it away. I do not need to keep trying to fight it out by writing it out. I can let it be what it needs to be and recognize it as a part of me and a part that needs to be.
Joy.
The idea of replacing it all with Joy, this does not feel wise. I have joy and I love joy but it is not the only or even most important thing for me to feel. I need all of my emotions and they need me.

And I learned that my light and color is white because all of the colors kept jumping in, campaigning for the position.
I tried to stick with my tried and true color of blue
but it needed it's friends.
So I let them all in and found a white light, the rainbow they all blend to make.
Colors bouncing in and out. That is me. That is my color if I have to choose only one.
So white is my light.

and Dr. She says "just a tiny bit of cynical" finger and thumb about an inch apart, because I say I don't really like to be.
And I love that she says that because I feel like I have at least that much but she still feels that I don't. She gets it. She sees my angry and she still gets me.
I sure love her.
And dear TBI friend calls me
just to tell me about the lady she talked to who said,
"Nobody gets pissed until it happens to them."
"we choose to be tough" she always tells me
and to keep getting back up.
I feel peace. I feel calm.
I feel.
and I am comfortable with me.

Monday, November 25, 2019

Damned if You don't have a Double Sided Ears

Sometimes I really hate people.
I hate the stupid lessons given about the things we are supposed to do and then when we do we find out that we are not really supposed to do them. Yesterday there was a good chunk in a lesson about asking for help when you need it. So once again feeling inspired by peoples well meaning words I took the council and did as I was told...
Just to have confirmed what that jerk of a man had documented about me in his neuropsychological evaluation; lack of family and social support.
But of course it is my fault.
Why wouldn't it be?
And I am shamed and hushed and silenced once again by the people who are supposed to be looking out for me.
Perfect target for grooming.
That I won't respond appropriately to, but will break and expose the groomer for instead
and then be blamed and shamed, stigmatized and hushed and silenced for
because I did not break the right way, which is wrong.
What a messed up cycle of madness
and yet I am the the crazy one
conspiracy theorist for sure
when actually they don't really believe me because it is too close to a real conspiracy and they are only conspiracy theorists so of course I must be too.

And the ringing in me ear is nagging and the silver capsuled eraser is begging to be used.
Sometimes I really hate people

But I still have at least 3 that do care about me.
So no erasing for now.

One of those three had me listen to this because in her youthful wisdom she felt it applied and of course I cried:

Saturday, November 23, 2019

Art is madness put on display.
That is the thought I had while at a dance show with my daughter yesterday.
The world is madness.