Please be gentle with hurting souls as they make their way through the holiday season this year.
Buddy & Zoey
Hurting hearts are walking among us, quiet and unseen. Their smiles seem bright. Their laugh sounds real. They show up for others. All while silently carrying the, often unbearable, weight of grief.
Some will set the table with one less place setting this year. Others will hold a recipe card in their grandmother’s handwriting and feel the ache of her absence all over again.
There will be moments of real joy – followed by the sharp sting of an arrow to the heart when they realize that these new memories being made don’t include the one they really wish was still here.
It’s a strange thing, being human. How joy and grief are forever intertwined.
So if you see a grieving heart, don’t look away. Lean in. Cry with them. Sit with them in silence, if that’s all they can manage. Let your love be louder than their silence.
No, love can’t fix grief. But it reminds us we’re not alone in it. And that’s what matters most.
🐾🎄 My little Buddy 🎄🐾
That is the best gift you can give someone this holiday season – your presence.
I slept with a hot water bottle on my chest last night.
The ache in my heart was more than the heaviness from everything life has thrown at me recently. It was physical. Last night my heart was raw. Broken. And it hurt. No pain could ever compare to that of an injured heart … And that’s a big statement coming from me.
I’m no stranger to physical pain. My body has endured a great deal of trauma over the years and I’ve grown quite accustomed to high levels of pain. From cuts and bruises, burns, and broken bones to having body parts ripped and torn, crushed, and even amputated. Yes, you read that right. Amputated. I lost my left arm in a car accident in 2010. So I know what it’s like to feel pain. But I would go through everything all over again if I knew it would cure my injured heart.
Staying positive is a necessity Getting some fresh air outside the hospital Buddy comforting me after I had a seizure“I got your back, Mom” — Zoey Living hurts sometimes.
I think most of us have had our hearts injured at some point in life – maybe even regularly – and injuries need to recover and heal. If you’ve ever been injured physically, you know that warmth and gentleness are requirements for healthy recovery. We need that warmth. We need gentleness.
Sometimes you can get those things from other people, but sometimes you have to find a way to give them to yourself. And last night I found a great deal of comfort in sleeping with a hot water bottle on my chest.
To feel that presence of warmth, was something I had no idea I needed and as I lay there in the dark, something shifted inside of me. Though reluctantly at first, I allowed myself to lean into the warmth, and then tears began to fall.
It was like giving myself a gift – which I’m not that great at doing. But I really do want ‘Danielle’ to be okay. I want her to always know that a warm presence is available, no matter who is or isn’t around.
I think one of the most incredible gifts we have been given as humans is the ability to comfort ourselves. The best tool I’ve learned in my journey with CPTSD is self-soothing. I still have a long way to go, but I’ve come so far from when drugs, food, and self-harm were the only tools I had.
For me, this deep ache of sadness in my heart is the scariest emotion of all. It’s the one I run from time after time, afraid that if it catches me, it will swallow me whole. I always seem to forget that not once has that ever happened.
Sometimes it will feel like our heart has been shattered, beyond the point of being able to ever experience any sort of joy or peace again. Just remember, feelings are not always facts!
And you can always sleep with a hot water bottle! That helps too.
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.
Like stones thrown into a lake, trauma creates ripples in the water that change not only its still, glassy surface but reverberate all the way through its flourishing ecosystems underneath. These microscopic quivers are often invisible, but present nonetheless—settling into the bones, minds, and memories of every survivor who’s known them.
When these ripples are born from multiple traumatic experiences, they can collide into chaos or build upon each other in strength – powerfully reshaping the ways a survivor sees themselves and the world around them. They can shift how one experiences their body, pain, touch, and even comfort; how they interpret and respond to danger, intense emotions, relationships, sensory input, and subtle reminders of that trauma; and how they’re seen by others. It can be difficult to disentangle the natural ebb and flow of the water’s currents from the ripples made from a downpour of stones.
Despite all the waves and wreckage, just as a lake remains beautiful, inviting, and a calm respite to all who wish to visit, survivors retain their beauty and resilience in spite of their trauma. Their healing isn’t about how quickly they can return to serene stillness after all that rocky hail, but in recognizing the unseen tremblings underneath, and finding ways to create harmony in concert with their movement. To those on the water’s edge, just as we respect nature’s quiet endurance, we should offer the same respect to those who’ve experienced trauma—tossing fewer stones and perhaps adding a few more reeds to ease a quivering shoreline.
After spending the last month in hospital on a psych unit, I’m in my own home tonight. I thought often of writing about my experiences while I was there but each time I would just stare at the blank screen and think things like …
Who really wants to hear about a hospital, much less a psyc unit full of crazy ppl?
What if I’m oversharing?
What if ppl start to look at me as a crazy person now?
Someone who knows me in real life might recognize me and then everyone in town will know things about me and will never look at me the same way again.
You get the idea. So I have not written anything in a month. I’ve kept myself locked up and silenced because of shame. Well, you know what? Screw everybody! I don’t care what ppl think!
Me and Buddy
Sorry, that’s not very nice of me. I don’t mean that. I really do care what ppl think. I care too much. That’s the problem.
I need to be a little selfish and think of myself sometimes. Particularly about writing. I love to write but I’m so focused on other ppl and what they think that it prevents me from genuinely expressing myself, both in real life and online. I want to work on changing that. I want to write from my heart. I want to be genuine and honest and tell things the way I want to tell them, without shame.
I just want to relax a bit and be myself. I want to let go of the shame and judgment. I truly am my own worst enemy.
Oh boy. I’m really feeling the effects of the seasons changing this year. It’s like the end of summer has brought about some sort of strange grieving process.
When the alarm on my phone starts calling me up in the morning I open my eyes and with disappointment I discover that there is no sunlight bouncing on the walls now. Daylight is only just beginning to brighten my room. Over the past few months though, I’ve been waking at this same time to fresh, natural light and through the open window I hear the birds singing their good morning songs for me. This morning I was greeted with a chill in the air, that sent a shiver from head to toe, and silence. It will be months and months before my bedroom is bright, and sunny, and … welcoming at 6:00am again.
Upon waking every morning this week, my heart rate picks up speed and nausea rises from my stomach, stopping near the back of my throat just short of overflowing it’s wretchedness into my mouth. Repeatedly I swallow in an attempt to push it back down but it refuses to fully recede. It lingers there well into the late morning, making it difficult to get my daily doses of prescription meds into my body without gagging.
This morning I switched on my therapy light lamp. Does it actually work the way it claims? I have no idea. But it can’t cause any harm. So I will continue to bring as much light to my surroundings as possible. Darkness is not my friend and as I make my way through the next weeks and months I know that there will be much more of it. One can’t fight darkness with darkness. Only light can do that. So whether it be therapy lights, candles, lamps, the fireplace, or strands of twinkling lights strung from corner to corner, I know I need to start fitting it in wherever I can.
I hate this overwhelming feeling of dread that is growing inside of me. Every day it seems to fill another crook or crevice, weighing me down just a little more than the day before. Thoughts fill my head, convincing me that I will not make it through another unbearably cold and nasty winter. That I don’t WANT to make it through … And as the day goes on things feel increasingly pointless and the desire to take an extended nap has become quite appealing.
Then evening comes. As it approaches it brings with it an almost unbearable heaviness in my chest and a sick, unsettled feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. The beautiful colors of the late evening sunsets brought such warmth and peace to my heart over the past months. But now, those same vibrant bursts of color stretching across the sky bring tension and panic to my nervous system. Tears burn my eyes as I reach to turn on the lights inside my house and I angrily brush them away. No!! Not this. Not now. There must be NO tears. My stomach twists, tightening every organ on its way up to my throat, threatening to bring vomit. I swallow, gag, and swallow some more, wishing everything that I’m feeling would just go back down to wherever the hell it came from.
And so it begins. I fear what the upcoming weeks and months have in store for me. For now, the only thing I can think to do is to pull on a hoodie, slip my feet into a pair of fuzzy socks, and give myself permission to feel hugged by their warmth. I will light a couple of candles, take a few slow deep breaths and curl up on the couch next to my husband and fur babies. And as I try to draw whatever comfort I can from their presence I will remind myself that in this moment I am OK. I won’t think about next week or next month or Halloween or Christmas. Because right now, none of that matters. This is the only moment that counts and in this very moment, I am OK.
Some days you just gotta give in. Self-care today has consisted of a whole lot of nothing. No make up. No hair styling. An old pair of ripped jeans. (Which we all know are the best anyway) And an old baggy sweater. I’ve had slippers on over my fuzzy socks and a blanket has been kept within reach.
I am both mentally and physically exhausted. It’s day 4 or 5 of this recent CRPS flare. I’ve lost track, as the days and nights have kinda blended into one another. Chronic pain can be brutal on any level. But these flare-ups of Complex Regional Pain Syndrome push things to a whole different level.
My body can’t regulate it’s temperature. I go from shivering to sweating and back again in the blink of an eye. Even a light sensation of something against my legs or feet feels like razor blades slicing through my skin. I feel like my upper body is currently wrapped tightly in barbed wire with electricity shooting through it.
Up until last night, I have been pushing through, not letting the pain slow me down. But while picking up dog toys around the house before bed, nausea swept over me and the vomiting started. It was a long night of trying to lay still and keep my breath regulated because each time I moved I’d throw up.
So today, I was forced to prioritize rest. Maybe I should have done this before. But I guess in the back of my mind I just feel that by resting, I’m letting the pain win. I keep hoping that it will all be OK and will go away again in a day or 2. Except I should know by now that these flares never go away that quickly.
Rest is hard for me. Especially during the daytime. But I have to say that I actually enjoyed having this down time today. My boy was by my side (and my head!) all day. There’s such a profound level of comfort that comes with having a dog next to me. It puts my entire self at ease when I feel the warmth from their body against mine.
I ate without putting too much focus on good vs. bad food. I treated myself to some diet pop and chewed bubble gum like there was no tomorrow. Netflix took a chunk of my afternoon once I got caught up in a series called Cobra Kai and while I did do laundry, it still sits in the basket waiting to be folded. But hey, at least it’s clean!
Days like this require a lot of self-talk. Constantly needing to tell myself that it’s perfectly OK for me to rest, that it doesn’t mean I’m a fat, lazy, slob. Maybe this wasn’t actually an unproductive day. But rather a day where repair took place. Maybe even a little healing and restoration. Because my pain level has dropped from an 8 this morning to about a 4 or 5 here now at 9pm. So I must have done something right!
As soon as I sit up in the morning the attack begins. The team of critics living inside my head open their ugly mouths and just let loose.
“You should go out somewhere today. You should socialize. You need to meet some people and at least pretend to be a participating member of society. You are such a baby! You can’t even handle calling someone and inviting them over for coffee!! You hate being alone … just as much as you like it. You’re impossible to please! Remember how awful the loneliness feels?!! You feel invisible. Forgotten. You’re very existence on this earth is pointless! You crave attention. You long to be part of society.
Yet as bad as it all feels you can’t get out of your own way! Grow up!!! Stop acting so foolish. You panic just thinking about allowing another person to get close to you. Fear paralyzes you when there’s a knock at your door. Ppl tell you to give them a call sometime but your hand trembles even at the thought of picking up the phone. Useless is what you are. You’re just a stupid, fat monster. No one would want to be around you anyway. Ppl are embarrassed to be seen with you. You’re deformed. Ppl stare at your shoulder and wonder why you only have one arm. Your ugliness is impossible to ignore and it’s all ppl see. You turn their stomach!! You stupid b!t@h …”
And on and on it goes.
While this is all true I did not choose this solitary lifestyle. Rather it chose me. I keep my distance from groups of people while often avoiding one-on-one interactions as well. The stress of human interactions has become something I now need to keep at a minimum because it seems as if my ability to tolerate stress and anxiety has dropped extensively.
I cannot withstand stress the way that I used to. All my life I have thrived on adrenaline and often find myself seeking out situations that will provide me with some sort of a rush but these days I find that the rush I get from the stress is a bit too much. I feel myself buckling under the heavy load that I carry around on my shoulders. I do my best and commit myself to things even though sometimes I push beyond my limits. I push and push and push until I break and fall apart.
Today though I am going to accept my limitations. I will not push myself to the point of breaking – physically or emotionally. What I have to offer today is all that I am going to give.
My in-laws are here visiting for a few days. They come 3-4 times a year and stay with us for a few days. And every time I end up falling apart behind closed doors. The pressure to be the perfect daughter-in-law gets me every single time. But I’ve had enough!
They are here in MY home and I refuse to give them the power to destroy my peace and joy. After arriving yesterday evening I prepared lasagna for them. David was at work so I was on my own. That part didn’t bother me because it was only for that evening, and then he’s off for a few days.
But I need to vent here for a minute because I’m just so … exasperated! They made a big deal about missing us and wanting to come and spend some time with us. They dropped their bags on the floor in the kitchen and sat at the table, their attention going to their cell phones. I sat and chatted with them but it would have been more entertaining had I just talked to the wall.
So I busied myself with the meal and clean-up and they got up and left the room. But not before pulling several bottles of alcohol from their bags.
By 8pm both of them were slumped over on the couch, asleep. David got home from work and just shook his head in disbelief. We know that they both have a problem with alcohol. But to drive 4 hours to visit your kids only to drink yourself into a semi-coma state within a few hours of arriving is ridiculous, in my opinion.
But I can’t take this personally anymore. Usually, I would beat up on myself by thinking that I was boring. I’d tell myself that they hate being around me and that I am so fat and ugly that they can’t stand to be in the same room as me. I’d spiral into believing that my house was not good enough. It’s too hot, too cold, not clean enough, my couch isn’t comfy, too much dog fur, the scented candle is too strong, my shower curtain is ugly, it’s too dark, too bright … and on and on and on.
No more. It has to stop! Over the years I’ve allowed my sanity to crumble every time they visit. It usually takes about a week after they’ve left for my nervous system to settle down. And I’m tired of it! This is MY home. It is my safe space and no one should have the power to ruin it for me. They will no longer cause me to become physically ill from the stress.
They are responsible for their behavior and if they decide to come here and be rude and disrespectful then that’s on them. David was looking forward to spending a few days with his mom and step-father. His mom keeps saying how she misses us but now that she’s here she shows no interest whatsoever in our lives. David was telling them something about his job and she literally interrupted him to show him a picture of a garden ornament that her friend had just bought. David looked as if she’d slapped him in the face. It broke my heart.
When we went to bed David and I were talking and agreed we can’t let this get to us. We will not allow this to pull us down. I’m done catering to them and walking on eggshells to avoid doing anything that they don’t like. I’m gonna go about things as I always do. I’m going to sit in my favorite spot. I’m going to have the temperature the way we have it every day. My dogs will play and make noise and I refuse to shush them or take their toys away. I’m not letting them turn my week upside down. I’m not going to stand in my closet to cry and I’m certainly not going to spend today in the bathroom throwing up from the anxiety like I did yesterday. Nope!
I’m not letting my peace be ripped away from me by other ppl. I work too hard to maintain my sanity on a daily basis to let you come into my space and strip it away. You can be you but I will be ME and I’m not going to end up sick from the stress of your presence in my home. Not this time.
Identifying how I’m feeling has always been difficult for me. Although I must admit, I have come a long way in that area in recent years. In the past if you had asked me at any given point how I was feeling I wouldn’t have been able to answer you. I lacked not only the vocabulary necessary to describe the feelings but also the introspection. I had no concept whatsoever of emotions, what they were, or how they felt. I also had no idea that emotions also come with bodily sensations and could actually be felt in the body.
I have a much better understanding these days of feelings, though it’s not something that comes naturally. My first response to how I’m feeling is still the usual “I don’t know”, but I am learning how to pause and go inward. I take a moment to investigate and I can usually come up with something that somewhat describes my current emotional state.
Something else I also struggle with is identifying emotions and facial expressions in other people. I misinterpret a lot and it has led to many misunderstandings. I get insecure about not being able to pick up on emotions in other people so I observe, and I use what I see to figure out what the other person is feeling. The problem with that is that more often than not, I’m wrong. That slight shift in a facial expression does not always mean what I think it does. A raised eyebrow may make me think that the other person disapproves of something I said but that might not be the case at all. The other person may in fact be impressed, surprised, or even intrigued by what I had said.
For a long time I didn’t even know I struggled with emotions. I just thought I didn’t have very many. I’m almost always “OK” if you were to ask. It seems like that’s all I ever knew how to be. I couldn’t identify sadness, joy, excitement, contentment, and certainly not anger. I’ve spent my life so detached from myself that I had no idea these things even existed in me. Growing up I experienced a lot of unwanted emotions and as I got older they seemed to have just flattened out. I stopped feeling the varying intensities and the window of what I could actually feel grew extremely small.
So here I am, at the age of 42, realizing that I don’t know what it actually means to feel a certain way. And I have a very low tolerance for anything that takes me away from “OK”. Sitting with a feeling is a fairly new concept in my world and it’s turning out to be one of the most excruciating things I’ve ever experienced. My system jumps into high alert whenever I sense any sort of emotion inside of me. Whether my heart rate begins to speed up from excitement, fear, anticipation, lust, pain, joy, or whatever else may come up, my brain reacts in a way that propels me towards behaviors that shut it all down. I am working on this though.
A few weeks ago my therapist used the word alexithymia to describe one’s inability to identify and describe emotions. It is a word I had never heard before. I had no idea that my difficulties with emotions were something that other people out there experience as well. I thought it was just another thing I was bad at. One more thing on my never-ending list of character flaws. Something else that other people do with zero effort but requires so much work on my part. Another complexity. Another failure. Another fault.
But I’m beginning to realize that’s not the case at all! Alexithymia is a real thing that is not a character flaw! It’s not because I’m too stupid to understand emotions. It’s not because I’m an air-head, or that I’m dumb, or careless. It’s not because I’m a cold-blooded person who has no heart. It’s something that’s actually more common than I realized. So much so that it has warranted a label of its own.
So I just want to say that if you’re reading this and you find yourself relating to my experience in any way, I encourage you to do a little reading about alexithymia. It might very well help you understand why you feel (or don’t feel) the way that you do. There are a few websites in particular that I found really great at explaining it. I don’t usually post outside links here but if you are interested, feel free to ask and I will gladly share. It could open up a door to a completely new way of seeing things! Please be gentle with yourselves today. You all deserve it!
Yesterday evening was rough. Anxiety had been raging through my body all day and my mood was all over the place. I was pretty discouraged. But it was a beautiful evening and I had been out in the garden. My pain level was quite high and I was close to tears. I sat back in my chair on the patio and I was looking up at the sky. Talking to God, I was telling Him how I could really use a dose of encouragement.
There was a notification on my phone and it was a pastor friend of mine. We began chatting and I shared a bit of what was going on. In between texts I was resting my head against the back of the chair, looking up at the sky. I noticed a long white jet trail stretching out above me. And when I looked closer I saw another trail beginning. I watched the jet make it’s way across the sky, soaking up the beauty of the evening sunset.
I’ve seen many jets in my lifetime, flying high in the sky, but what I witnessed yesterday was like a personal sign from God. The thought came to me … beauty still remains, you just need to look closer. It moved me to tears. The colors of the sky at that precise moment along with the fresh jet streams running above me were such a sight to behold.
I was reminded, in more ways than one, that I am not alone even though it felt that way yesterday evening. I was reminded that in the midst of struggle, beauty remains. Between the words coming to me from Linda and the view stretching across the sky above me, I was encouraged. Which is what I asked for.
A lot has happened over the past week. My uncle passed away which meant I had to go back to my hometown, which happens to be at the top of my list of least favorite places on earth.
The 2 days I was there have stirred up a lot of unwanted crap, bringing on a stream of anxiety. I’m drowning in waves of it. Just when I get myself back to baseline, my body stops trembling and I allow myself to take a breath, the air gets stuck in my throat and I start gasping again.
26. Can you whistle? Slightly. I can make a sound but that’s about it 27. Where were you born? Grand Falls, NL Canada 28. Any Surgeries? 2 (repair of shoulder following a traumatic arm amputation. And a knee repair) 29. Piercings? 6 30. Shower or bath? Shower 31. Last song you heard? Amazing Love 32. Broken bones? Cheek bones, nose, chin, 5 fractures along my spine, 2 toes 33. How many TV’s in your home? 2 34. Worse pain? Recovering from a car accident was brutal from a physical standpoint. But the worst pain I’ve ever felt was deep within my being. Mental illness was destroying my mind as well as my body and I was crying out to God to let me die. That is a pain unlike any other. 35. Do you like to sing? Yes 36. Are your parents still alive? Yes 37. Do you like to go camping? Love it!! 38. What do you binge watch? All the medical drama shows … 9-1-1/Grey’s Anatomy/The Good Doctor/New Amsterdam etc 39. Favorite Pie? Oooohh. That would definitely have to be cherry 40. Favorite time of day? Sunrise. The darkness is leaving and a new day is dawning 41. Chocolate or vanilla? Definitely vanilla 42. Have you ever been on a plane? Yes. I flew to Ontario to a rehab center then flew back home several months later, clean, sober, and alive! 43. What did you want to be when you grew up? A social worker 44. What is the best job you ever had? I absolutely loved working as an early childhood educator at a local daycare and preschool center 45. Favorite movie? Girl Interrupted 46. Christmas or Halloween? Christmas all the way!! 47. What color is your toothbrush? Purple 48. Bad habits? Skipping meals, not opening mail right away, ignoring the signals my body sends me 49. Last person you hugged? David (husband) 50. What is one thing you could talk about for hours? My dogs!
1. Do you put ketchup on hotdog? Not a fan of either 2. Choice of pop? Sprite Zero 3. Do you put salt on watermelon? What?! Ppl actually do that?? Gross!! 4. Can you swim? No. Never learned as a child. Too afraid of losing my breath. 5. How do you eat your steak? Well done 6. Favorite food? Soups 7. Do you believe in ghosts? The Holy ghost and evil spirits 8. What do you drink in the morning? Cranberry juice and water (half and half) 9. Can you do 100 push ups? Hahaha!!!! Yeah right. 10. Summer, Winter, Spring, Fall? Fall. Gotta love hoodie weather 11. Favourite animal? Dogs! Guinea pigs are a close second 12. Tattoos? 5 (so far) 13. Do you wear glasses? yes but not all the time 14. Do you have any fears in this crazy world? Yeah, more than I’d like to admit 15. Do you have a nickname? Angel 16. Favorite Candy? Gummy bears are the best. Duh. But there’s no candy in existence that I would not try. Especially if they’re sour. 17. Favorite smell? Salt water air 18. Rain or Snow? Snow. The dogs like it better and it’s not as messy 19. Can you change a tire? No. I don’t drive. 20. Favorite flower? I very much prefer house plants 21. Can you drive a stick? Nope 22. Kids? Two (they have 4 legs and lots of fur) 24. Favorite colour? Black or pink 25. Food you refuse to eat? Rabbit meat, seal meat, anything spicy
Embrace each and every challenge that you face as opposed to running for dear life in the opposite direction. Be curious. Take a step back and observe. Then proceed to use it as an opportunity to gain valuable insight and skills. Challenges don’t always have to be setbacks.
Danielle Broomfield
I’ve been home from the hospital for a while now. Things are going ok. I’ve learned some things over the past 2 months and I’m trying to incorporate so&me new ways of coping throughout the day. For example, drinking water is a problem for me. Dehydration is a common occurrence and it causes me to feel so dragged out and just blahh overall. But in the hospital I was given meds multiple times a day and of course, I had to drink water. So I’ve been using that as an opportunity to drink now that I’m home as well. Spreading my medications out over the PROPER times, setting alarms on my phone to remind me and then drinking as much as I can tolerate when I take the meds. Sometimes it’s just a few sips while other times I’ve been able to get down a full glass. Its a simple thing for most ppl – to drink water. But as a person who struggles immensely with drinking any type of fluids, and considering its a necessity for life, its something I have to put work into. So I have been. I want to be well. I want to feel well.
Living inside my head is just downright exhausting sometimes. Small things turn into major hurdles. Its rare for me to have a moment of silence. I mean, who else actually stands, holding a bottle of water, and cries because you know your body is screaming out for it but your mind is just screaming right back, yelling obscenities. I have recently found myself yearning for stillness though, for silence. With the constant 24/7 chatter when I was in the hospital and then all the things that came with the holidays, I find it hard to even think sometimes. So I am trying to take a few minutes here and there to just be still. It has actually been good for my anxiety. Anything that helps reduce the anxiousness I often feel is definitely a tool worth holding on to.
Challenges don’t always have to turn into setbacks. I have a tendency to trip up very easily. Even the smallest challenges have the potential to bring about a full blown relapse. That’s why I’m trying to really hard to stay on top of everything right now. Its a really stressful time of year, for everyone, and less than 2 months ago I almost died. Every tool I think of is being used to pull myself through this christmas. Yep. It’s definitely challenging. But its not going to set me back!
My pain level has been pretty extreme the past couple of days. I was diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) around 7/8 years ago, after being in a pretty bad car crash. Many of my injuries fully healed while others became permanent problems. So the pain receptors in my brain are all messed up. They frequently send signals around my body, that basically scream DANGER, and various parts of me act as if they’re suddenly being crushed and shredded and ripped apart.
So that’s where I’m at today. On the couch with a heated blanket wrapped around me (many thanks to my clothes dryer!), my 2 dogs close by, hot lemon ginger tea, a bottle of morphine, and Netflix. But I feel like I’m about to lose my freakin mind! I can’t stand not being able to do stuff. To be still and quiet and just relax … its actually painful. Mentally painful. So I’m pretty well maxed out in the pain department today. I can’t say I’m overly surprised by this though.
Different things trigger these flare ups and determine the severity. Many times I don’t know what it was but sometimes I do. Right now though my guess would be stress. My mental illness is trying really hard to destroy me and my body has been on the receiving end of some not so healthy attempts to make myself not feel it. I never anticipated though that a bump on my head would cause my entire body to overreact like this. But here we are.
Sometimes I need to be reminded of things that are outside of this particular moment. I get so caught up in what I’m feeling rightnow or I get stuck in a memory loop, where I have one specific flashback that plays repeatedly, consuming me … I forget that I have an entire life outside of this place where I’m stuck. That’s where I have been discovering that any type of visual reminder, of a positive moment, helps me to become grounded. I have added a few videos and pictures to a folder on my phone and I’ve been sitting here in my bathroom, watching the videos on repeat.
This one shows a moment from this summer that has stayed with me very vividly. The way I felt in that moment was something I became very mindful of so I’m guessing that’s why I can feel it to be so real. I had been walking the beach near my house and my 2 dogs were with me. We’d had 2 days of rain so they were super happy to be outside and get to run around. When I stopped I took in all of my surroundings and I felt such an incredible warm feeling run through the center of my chest. Everything in that moment bordered on perfection. The direction of the sun, the temperature, the light breeze in my hair, the warmth from the sun shining down on my face, my dogs barking after each other as they zoom past me to chase each other through the salt water …
There are always things that you can cling to in moments of difficulty that can serve as an anchor. You might have one specific thing or many different ones. Whatever the case might be, use them. If you have to watch a 17 second video 29 times in a row to get the trembling in your bones to stop, then do it. You so deserve to be reminded of these moments of joy when the weight of depression is trying to crush you.
Having achors to keep you grounded is a great tool to have in your toolbox. One of my go-to skills.
Her Complex Musings 
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