Breathe … Remember that you’ve been in this place before. You’ve been this depressed and uncomfortable and anxious and scared, and you survived.
Breathe … You can survive this too. These feelings can’t break you. They’re excruciating, I know. But honey, you can sit with them and eventually, they will pass. I promise! It might not be right away, but soon, they are going to fade and it won’t feel as awful as it does right now.
Breathe … You can do this. And when these crushing feelings do pass, you’ll look back at this moment and wonder why you ever doubted your own resilience. I know it feels unbearable right now, but keep breathing … again and again.
This will pass. I promise it will pass. Just breathe.
Sometimes it’s a dog that fills the void. The room feels so different when she isn’t in it.
People come and go and they will repeatedly let you down. They make promises they can’t keep, love you – but with conditions, and leave when things get hard. But a dog? A dog just stays. No questions, no demands. She’s just there, filling the empty spaces you didn’t even realize you had growing inside you.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How something so small can take up so much room in your life?
Well no, not strange. It’s just … rare. The kind of love that doesn’t ask for anything but still gives you everything in return. The kind that’s always there when you need it most, and somehow, without a single word, it reminds you that you are worthy of being loved.
Zoey, my 9-year-old yellow lab, is lying beside me in my hotel room tonight. She’s bringing a desperately needed sense of calm to my anxious nervous system. I have been in and out of fight, flight and freeze all week. We traveled 5 hrs today and checked in to a hotel for the night. In the morning I have an appointment for a special medical test that can only be done in this particular hospital.
I am an amputee. I lost my left arm in a car accident 10 yrs ago so I have been living with just one hand. Last week I seriously injured that hand and it has had devastating consequences. Life changing. I am looking at partial to full loss of use of the full hand and wrist, which would strip me of most of my independence.
I’m scared. This test tomorrow will determine which type of surgery they will be performing and whether or not it can be repaired. There are a lot of unknowns and the fear is trying to strangle the life out of me.
But as I lay here with my girl beside me, listening to her deep relaxed breathing I am reminded to take a deep breath of my own. I realize that there’s nothing I can do tonight other than rest. Worrying is only causing more suffering. Tomorrow will come and I will face each challenge as it comes. So for now, I’m going to pause and appreciate the presence of my beautiful furry companion.
I’m going to reclaim my peace tonight as I allow the love of my dog to calm the fear and anxiety within me. With no questions or demands, I know Zoey will bring comfort to my hurting soul.
They say I’m strong, they see me smile, “A beacon of grace,” they said for a while. They nod, they cheer, “You’re doing so well,” But inside, I’m trapped in my own private hell.
The world keeps spinning, I play my part, But grief carves scars deep in my heart. My laughter sounds hollow, my words feel fake, Each breath I take in is a chore to make.
They see the mask I’ve carefully drawn, A veil of strength to greet the dawn. But behind the facade, the truth resides, There’s a storm of sorrow I cannot hide.
The nights are lonely, my tears run free, I speak to shadows no one can see. My whispers are silent, filled with words I can’t say, Its a weight I carry every single day.
I wish they knew, I wish they’d see, This pain that’s silently drowning me. To share my truth, though, it feels far too stark, So I’ll just wear my mask and sit in the dark.
Strong, they call me, but thats definitely not true, I’m just surviving, like all people do. One day, perhaps, the mask will fade, if I could just find peace in the life that’s remade.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a very ‘complex’ person (eye roll). And that neither my mind nor body functions as it should, and can be very unpredictable. So there’s not really a lot that really surprises me anymore. But like, seriously. Get this … I’ve been sick with what my tattoo artist is calling the ‘Tattoo Flu’. Have you ever heard of this?!
I got my 8th tattoo last week. I have never had any complications from any of them. Have never needed pain meds or even much aftercare because they all healed without any issues. I must also add that earlier this year I had one done on the left side of my chest, which is a part of my body that was seriously injured in a car accident (my left arm was amputated). No major issues with that tattoo. Minimal bleeding, swelling, and redness. No bruising. I went through the session with no problem.
But this time … Oh. My. Goodness!!
Within the first 30 minutes I started shivering, and it didn’t stop. 4 hrs later at home, I was still trembling. I threw up about an hour in. He gave me a break, had me eat candy, and asked if I wanted to stop and finish the rest another day. I told him to keep going.
I must admit though, the reason I didn’t want to stop was mainly because of pride. Because, you see, I am tough! I can handle a lot of pain. I’m a badass, with tattoos! A few needle pokes got nothing on this girl! I’ve been through much worse. So no, I’m not quitting!
Anyways, I was under the needle for 2 hrs. I was booked for additional touch-ups on 2 older tattoos but at the 2 hr mark, he completed my chest piece and told me he wasn’t going to continue. He said “I think you might be getting what we call the Tattoo Flu … you’re going into shock.”
Me being me, how did I respond? “Don’t be silly,” I said. “I’m fine! It’s all good!” I told him that if I could go outside for a few minutes then I’ll be good to go again. But he refused, said it would be dangerous to keep going, and added that I was a sucker for punishment. I was pissed. (I think the fact that my body was reacting this way made me want to keep going even more. Not sure what exactly I was trying to prove ….)
I appreciated his looking out for me and it gained my respect, for being a good responsible artist. But that doesn’t mean I liked the decision!
It’s been 5 days and I’ve been feeling like shit. Leading up to this I wasn’t feeling the greatest to begin with. There’s been a lot of additional stress lately and I think it’s affecting my health a bit. I guess I’ve just been feeling a little burnt out. But still!! I did not expect this. I made sure I got some sleep the night before and I even had breakfast and some water before going to the appointment. But man, this stuff is real!!
So the tattoo flu is caused by an immune system response. When the skin is punctured by needles, the body reacts to the trauma and treats the ink like a foreign substance. So the immune system works to heal the skin and fight off the perceived threat. This response is what causes the flu-like symptoms as it tries to recover and protect itself.
I’ve had chills. Every part of my body has been aching. I’ve been nauseous and dizzy and even more exhausted than usual. Did I mention the swelling and bruising?! I’ve never had bruising from a tattoo before but it’s as if I’ve been beaten with a baseball bat this time!
The tattoo flu could last up to a week. Thankfully I am feeling a bit better today. Its usually only seen it in ppl getting really large pieces done in one sitting. I began showing signs after 30 minutes. Also, low blood sugar is common when the body is under stress, which is why the artist had a stash of lollipops. I didn’t know that a tattoo could cause uour blood sugar to drop!
I was given some great advice, which I will definitely take, to hopefully prevent the tattoo flu if (when) I get another one. It basically all comes down to self-care!
🦋 Have lots of carbs, sugar, and hydration in my system before a session. Drink a couple of bottles of Gatorade the day before (and during) the session.
🦋 Get a good night’s sleep the night before. And afterward, relax and be gentle with yourself because your body just went through a trauma.
🦋 Leading up to the session, don’t do anything super activating. Being calm at the beginning will help make the adrenaline rush and subsequent crash less intense. A lot of tension in the body before the tattooing process begins could actually cause an immune response to occur, that might otherwise not have happened had there not been so much stored stress.
There have been many moments lately where I have hidden in my bathroom because life has become too heavy to bear. I wonder if I will ever get the chance to just be myself again. Everything has gotten so complicated lately.
The things that are necessary to be happy are currently not present. I am exhausted, in more ways than one. But I’m still getting up and crawling my way through each day.
Sometimes I squeeze my eyes shut and block everything out to remind myself that I’m human and to breathe. I am trying to teach myself that it’s ok to take a break.
It’s also ok to indulge yourself with whatever sliver of happiness you can find that will help strengthen and recharge you. Whether you make a cup of your favorite tea and sit by the Christmas tree as you drink it, go for a walk, or throw a ball around in the backyard with your dog. If it satisfies even the smallest part of you, it’s worth the effort.
December is a hard month for a lot of ppl. Myself included. Its going to be very easy to get swept up and completely lose ourselves over the next few weeks. So from one struggling human to another …
You can do this. WE can do this! Take a breath. Then another. Drink some water and get some sleep. Then do the next thing. We will make it through December!
Those words were shared in an email response that I received from my psychologist last week. It had been a difficult session and afterwards, I spiraled. I emailed her in the midst of my upset and her brief reply ended with those words – Hope strengthens, fear kills.
Yes. I am scared. Terrified – of my own brain. I have no control whatsoever of the way it reacts to things anymore. Its like I’m dealing with a completely separate entity. I’m going about my day as if im babysitting some overly dramatic child that can’t be left alone for 2 minutes or else it’s going to get into something it’s not supposed to.
I got up after a nightmare that night and spiraled into the danger zone. I remembered that Magda (psychologist) had pointed out a couple of wins from the previous week (which I really appreciated) and she said that what I was doing was helping me grow my window of tolerance. In my frustration that night, I was like, “F* my window of tolerance. I’m not doing this”.
I want to be numb. I want to go back to the days when I was void of all emotion. I used to be so frozen inside but it’s like I’m thawing out now. I don’t want my thoughts to be so loud or sounds to be so clear. When my head was heavy and foggy and I barely even remembered conversations I didn’t have to deal with any of this stuff. My brain dissociated for a reason.
I feel like I’m going crazy. The fear is strangling me. Choking me. Killing me …
I’m afraid of what’s going to happen to me. So much fear, that I’m going to just snap, go totally crazy, lose my sanity entirely.
Fear. Its trying to kill me. The fear of uncertainty. Not knowing from one minute to the next what I’m going to think or feel. The fear that I’m not strong enough … that I might find myself completely alone and have to navigate it all by myself – again … that I’m going to collapse under all the pressure … fear that I’m going to start but never be able to stop crying …
Fear kills.
*Video clip of me in the midst of a panic attack*
BUT ….
she also said that hope strengthens. Hope. I need strength. I need hope. I’m not going to find either if I just wait around for it to fall into my lap though. So I must make it my daily goal to seek out hope. I know it exists in more than just the ink on my wrist. I see it around me. I see that other ppl have it. Its just that it never feels like there’s any for me.
If you want something in this world you have to go after it right? Well, I want to be strong. I want hope to fill me and strengthen me.
You say that you are hopeless, That you want life less than you want death ... But if you jumped into a pool right now I know you'd hold your breath. So, no. You are not hopeless. It's just that hope is hard to find. If you could see what you're capable of, I know you'd change your mind. You may be at rock bottom But its the perfect place to start, Where the only thing that you can hear Is the beating of your heart. You have to almost lose it To remember what you've had. There's been a share of good times Mixed in between the bad. So don't wait for the ending, Until your last breath starts to leave Before you finally remember How much you like to breathe.
Her Complex Musings 
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