Jul 182016
 

I had no date this weekend, meaning, me and my boy didn’t go out together. He did go and play tennis with his uncle though. I have never seen two peas in a pod until I see those two. They read the same books, play the same games, fight over the broccoli, love the same sports and even wear their hair the same -shaved. The only real difference is about 16 years. It is nice that my little man gets to have man time with someone who pushes him and encourages him, even when they both come home starving and sweaty.


My back pain has been brutal this past month. I don’t know what’s going on with my body. Pain meds aren’t touching the pain much, just making me feel semi-stoned, and the feedback on that from family is “you are seriously annoying” and “can you please talk slower?” I have no desire to go to the doctor or wait on new tests or to try new meds… I feel so over all of this, throwing in the towel really feels like the best option right now. Just saying screw it to my body and continuing to try and be active on days I can be, take care of myself the way I have been and taking my supplements.

I started an old antidepressant again. I quit it back in February but with my emotions being so whacked and my pain being so crazy we decided to try it again, since it not only helps with the insanity but is also proven to be helpful with some types of pain. The parts that suck though is that it is another medication. I take sooo many pills every day not including my supplements or pain killers and it’s just frustrating. I want to be off of my meds so I can get pregnant and not worry about hurting a baby, or travel without worrying about refills, or worrying about whether or not I should be driving. I miss normalcy, though, I don’t think I have ever actually had normal. I have always had pain, starting when I was about 12 and I have struggled with my mental health since I was raped when I was 12, though, I never began medications until I had post partum depression and then really started meds when I was diagnosed with PTSD after escaping a severely insane relationship.

Jul 142016
 

I haven’t felt creative lately. No desire to pull out my sketch book and draw or paint. No desire to put a pen to paper and scrawl out pretty words. I really have been struggling, but I am happy that I don’t have to create.

I can look out the window or stand on the deck or sit on the stairs and stare up at a sky perfectly created by a God who loves me, trees with their leaves turned, silver shiny expressing that the sky will soon cry too. The black clouds with blue poking through. The rainbow with a full arch and all the colors after a rough storm.

Then there are the blades of grass, the pretty thistle stretching through the stairs to stab me in the back. The dog chasing a ball while the others look on wondering what sort of masochist she must be to allow a human to control her in such a foul way.

God created it all, every stone unturned, the rocks been flipped, the blades of grass, the dandelions that lay down when they feel the mower approaching, the drops of rain on the car window, wild roses in white, light pink and fuchsia backed by the sound of frogs and crickets as the day goes from dark to light and back again.

I have been writing on here though, almost every day. It’s been dark, scary even, but it’s the pain in my soul being broken raw exposed.

Jul 122016
 

I stood there, without a towel, naked, my long hair dripping at top speed town onto the dirty towel on the floor, it quickly becoming soaked as I tried to figure out what the hell just happened. My skin burning, everywhere, because of the extremely rapid and aggressive scrubbing of the brush against my skin as panic overtook me further and I was trying to scrub off the nastiness I felt all over me, running down the drain.

Only, the scrubbing didn’t get rid of the yuck my body feels. I looked down and saw blood pouring down and wondered when I cut myself. I stumbled backwards and almost fell as I looked at my wrists to see what the damage was, I blinked and blinked again as I looked at myself only to realize that the water was running clear and there was no blood, “just” a flashback flooding me, reminding me of a time not so long ago.

I had nothing to wear except the pj top I had stripped off and everyone was already in bed so I couldn’t call out for a fresh towel or clothes. I looked at myself, naked, in the fogged over mirror and still felt dirty, I reached for my Faceshop aloe cleanser and my Clarisonic and scrubbed my face, I didn’t think I did it too rough until I was rinsed and applied the moisturizer. I didn’t know a 90 dollar moisturizer could sting so bad and I didn’t know the sting my body was feeling was exactly what I needed to snap back into reality.

I wrapped a half dozen elastics around my sopping hair and tossed on the dirty pj top and shut the hot water off. My heart was still pounding, it still is, but the panic seemed to have left me, I was back in reality and doing my best to dry a semi-soaked bathroom with a washcloth. I did my best, it wasn’t much, but at least I feel semi in control again.

The stairs, 12 of them. I counted 12. I usually count by 6 and when I got to the bottom I noticed that I had went all the way to 12 but I couldn’t go back up and start again. There was hair dripping and needing help and…

Maybe the panic attack isn’t over…

Jul 112016
 

I feel like I am being crushed by the world. My heart is broken. My soul a shadow that doesn’t want to be caught, possibly the only part of me that has escaped bondage and is truly free. I will never find a way to heal my soul or a Wendy to stitch it on.

I cry tears that only a dark angel dares to see, to wipe from salt stained cheeks. And I look to the sky and wonder if God is looking down at the broken mess of me. The unspoken broken a fiery light ablaze while I’m on scraped knees.

No one physical to pull me from the wreck, to rescue me from a tainted reverie. To cup my chin and stop the river of tears flowing from my eyes. To wrap their arms around me, hold me, bring me to life.

I want to walk from the shore into the waters deep. Feel the cold touch me, the sandy bottom moving between my toes, my hair floating along the waters top like a weed let go. I want to exhale deep and sit below the surface while my lungs scream for air that isn’t there.

Look out across the gently stirred water and see legs and feet and faces splashing and playing as I inhale deep below. I want the pain of the rush filling my lungs. To stare up at the sun dancing in a billion fragments across the waters top while what’s left of life slips further and further away.

I am alone.

I am tired.

I am running low on tears and high on fears.

I am broken.

Alone.

Undone.

Maybe someone will reach in deep and grasp my soul, breathe it back to life in a way I can’t. There is a resemblance of hope -that I will wake from this dream. But, you know what they say about hope… It breeds eternal misery. I would hate to have to be eternally miserable when I am perpetually miserable here and running towards every sign with the word “exit” shining red against white.

I am far from fine again. I suspect that even that nonchalance is too hard to grip longer than the fake smile when asked how I am doing. Oh, man, do you really want the truth? Didn’t think so.

I just want to be alone in my own thoughts, the prison that I have created and yet I don’t want to be alone at all because those bars don’t just keep me from getting out, they keep others from getting in. A comfort that covers body, not the roaming soul.

Life isn’t a gentle zigzag like a feather makes when it falls from the sky. It’s choppy, unpredictable, painful and a road I am tired of travelling.

So tired…

Jul 092016
 

I worried that no news was bad news, because it usually is. I had resolved to the fact that it would be a few days waiting and we had grilled hot dogs and smokies for dinner and then went to the new Pets movie at the theatre. My date being my 12 year old and my 14 year old being to good to sit anywhere near us. We sat in the front row, it seems to be becoming our spot, and he carried the Pepsi and I carried the popcorn to our seats and we laughed at minions mowing the lawn and swatted hands a few times in an attempt to make the popcorn last through the movie, always with a smile on our face. The theatre was full, like REALLY full, I guess going on opening night isn’t a good idea. Lesson learned.

Got home to see the bad news I had resolved to was actually good news and a sigh of relief escaped my lips. I am so used to bad news that I have come to expect it.

My pain level was through the roof and I didn’t want to say anything, but I knew I had too. I finally went to bed around 4am, still plagued by pain and knowing that relief was not going to come.

Today I woke up at around 9:30 and finally rolled out of bed at 10 when the dog was begging with complete urgency to go out. The pain still wracking my body, causing me to tremble and shake. Nausea sweeping over me like a tsunami as my body struggles to adjust to whatever this “normal” is.

I stood outside this afternoon as I dared to eat for the first time. Fresh oatmeal with real cinnamon, a spoon of brown sugar and a little bit of organic soy milk for even more protein power. I wonder why people buy the instant pre-flavoured stuff when making it on your own is so quick and so much healthier!?

The boy child was hiking or playing tennis today with his uncle. I have never seen two people fitting the “two peas in a pod” analogy better than they do. They just walked in the door, water bottles in tow, after a long afternoon of being active. I wish I could bare the heat the way they can. Clearly, I am a winter girl. Which totally explains why I rarely even wear a jacket come the minus 40 months.

Homemade potato salad is in the fridge and fresh burgers and buns from our favorite baker are ready to go on the grill in an hour or so. I am hoping the grey sky doesn’t turn to rain, but if it does my tomato and strawberry plants will go another day without me having to drag out the hose to water them. I have enough spearmint to make tea for the neighbourhood, including all the horses, I am definitely not complaining and I think they will be a fun plant to grow over the winter in the house too!

Encouraging comments on my last post have lifted me up a lot. I am definitely still not where I would like to be mentally but I am also not where I was, which is always an amazing blessing! I am not looking for perfection, only progress.

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

~”WILD GEESE”

by Mary Oliver”

Jul 072016
 

They are just trying to build their lives, build their family, have children together alongside the ones that she brought into the relationship all those years ago. And while we aren’t close, at all, maybe seen each other a half dozen times since we were little kids playing cops and robbers with toy handcuffs, my heart is still broken for him, my cousin, yet again. He has had a rough few years.

He was in a plane crash that he narrowly survived a few years back, on that day I was complaining to my mom that everything smelled like fuel, she said I was crazy until the email came saying his plane had went down and that an old boyfriend of my aunts, from 30 years ago, had saw the rainbow on a small lake of fuel and being the nosey man he is he swooped down to get a closer look only to see part of a pontoon sticking out of the water with a body on it, my cousins body. The family friend, Jake, was in a plane too large to land and my aunt and uncle were on the radio trying to find their son when Jake called for someone with a small plane for help. Some American tourists with a small plane were able to make the landing in that tiny remote lake and help my cousin off that pontoon into their plane and back into the sky to meet the ambulance at the docks. His neck was broken, his thumbs nearly amputated from trying to pull the plane up when he crashed and chemical burns from him laying partly in the water with all that fuel and oil pouring out and burning his flesh away. Praise God his neck was able to be fixed and he didn’t suffer any paralysis or anything like that. A lot of healing though and it’s been probably five years and he still hasn’t got his pilots licence back, his thumbs have been the biggest problem.

Since then he has went on and continued with the woman who stood by him during all of that healing, and all the years before that, and they had a baby girl, named Aurora. Only, Aurora was born directly into the hands of God. They were trying to build a family and God is building Himself an army of angels. It was close to the due date for little Aurora when the placenta broke free and before they could get to a hospital the baby had passed and the mama almost did too.


Now its been a few more years since that happened and I had a vivid dream about a caesarean going very wrong. When I went to tell my mom about the dream she was reading an email saying Aurora’s little sister was also in Heaven. I didn’t even know they were expecting another baby, I guess when you have experienced the pain of losing one you might want to be hushed about another just in case. They had a scheduled c-section planned and their little girl whose name I don’t know, was moving fine and had no reason for concern, but when they arrived for their c-section they couldn’t find a heartbeat. They did an emergency delivery and couldn’t revive the baby. And another little soul was born right into the arms of God.

My cousin though? In his building a family and a career as a pilot and all of that feels like the world just keeps knocking him out of the sky and while I sit here and cry over a baby I didn’t even know existed until the other day when she was already gone he is struggling with drinking and drugs and finding any way he can to dull the pain of living, and living comes with a lot of pain.


And somehow my vivid dreams have always mimicked life. I have been accused of killing because I dreamed it, the first time at the age of 9 when my cousin took his life in our back yard, found splayed after three days missing, at the bottom of a cliff. I was blamed because I had said he was going to die about 3 months earlier when he had crashed a truck after my great uncles funeral, and that blame has never left me.

So when my cousin crashed his plane and I was being haunted by the odor of fuel and couldn’t figure out why until I got the news I felt like had I not smelled that smell that he would still be flying.

My dream the other afternoon during a nap about a caesarean gone wrong left me feeling like if I hadn’t fallen asleep, she would have been born safe and healthy and alive.

My sanity is lost and I have no clue where to search, and I don’t think I want to, because like I said, life hurts, especially when you blame yourself for things out of your control based solely on the fact that someone decided to place the blame on you when you were a child instead of accepting responsibility for their own child.

I have been a mess, I am a mess. I don’t know if I am coming or going and I have pulled into myself, far in because exposing the flesh wounds leaves me open to judgement and battle scars and frankly, I don’t have enough unscarred flesh left to successfully go to battle again.

So maybe I am throwing in the towel, or maybe it’s like the Mr. says and that I am not the cause of the problems, I just feel them and see them in a way that most people can’t. It’s hard to say, but I don’t know if I want to risk it. I don’t know if I want to get close to anyone or anything if all that I am going to experience is a painful hurt and a loss.

You see, you can build up walls instead of bridges to peace and you can be isolated and alone or you can build that bridge and put yourself in the cross hairs of the man with a fully automatic weapon. Maybe Trump is right with his wall. Maybe isolation is the best way to protect yourself, your body, your soul, your heart. Maybe if we all place that figurative wall around us the billions of emotions flying through the air won’t hit so hard, or at all. Maybe they will bounce off my imaginative force-field and leave me alone.

Alone with my thoughts, my anger, my depression, my sadness and hurt. Alone to wonder and hope and to pray and to hide. Alone to not love because if I embrace the olive branch then I am guaranteed that new pain will eventually follow.

Maybe some of us should be alone, because loneliness is what’s best for everyone.

Day 6 | Lost Pain

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Jul 062016
 

My brain isn’t getting along with itself and I can feel myself crawling inside while simultaneously trying to escape. I am shutting down. Pulling away. From what? I don’t know. I suppose from everything. Given my recent struggles with flashbacks and dreams and nightmares and not being sure about any of it, I feel like it is so much easier, and even necessary to slip inside my shell and allow this ragged hell to run its course.

Nothing in life, or death, makes sense anymore. I am done trying to put pieces together. The puzzle isn’t complete, or maybe I have the pieces to more than one at once. Darkness vs light. They say everything has an opposite. Can I be the opposite of myself? Do I want to explore the dark side of the moon or do I want to admit that even though I don’t see the dark side it doesn’t mean the light doesn’t touch it.

I suppose we all have our intimate spots and our dark sides. Is it bravery or stupidity that causes some of us to embrace them?

“And one sweet day,
you’re gonna drown in my lost pain.

Do you wonder why you hate?
(Our burning ashes, Blacken the day)

Are you still too weak to survive your mistakes?
(A world of nothingness, blow me away.)”

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