Holy shit the WHY

Even if nothing else in this song made sense, WHY is perfection.  There are no other words.  Which is good, ’cause I’m still short on them.  Just holy shit, the WHY.  (Flaw- Fall Into This)

“Fall Into This”

Torn away from all that matters
And led by the wrong intentions
I know it wouldn’t be too easy, not yet
To go somewhere I’m afraid of
It’s made of…

Thoughts I’m receiving, making me say
That I know I’ll just be there once again
Lord I’m lost and then I’m tossed
Thoughts I’m receiving, making me say
That I know I’ll just be there once again
No…

Wrong, nothing really matters
If I was gone, would it make you any sadder?
I feel half as good as normal, you know
To steal – what to steal – what’s already taken
Here I go again…

Thoughts I’m receiving, making me say
That I know I’ll just be there once again
Lord I’m lost and then I’m tossed
Thoughts I’m receiving, making me say
That I know I’ll just be there once again

I think you know,
That you did this to me
I think you know,
That you did this to me
I think you know…
That you did this to me, you did this to me!

Why?!
You did this to me, I just want to know
Why?!
You did this to me
And it starts

God I’m losing sleep again
God I’m losing sleep again
And I feel my way
Thank you for making me talk
God I’m losing sleep again
God I’m losing sleep
And I failed, I think you know

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Eff (it’s that day again)

All of these things…

So I’m heading out of town again to see the doctor and get another scope of my illeostomy to see if it is doing better.  I know already it’s not.  I’ve been throwing up more often, just randomly, and my stoma is still pretty raw and bleeding.

However, this morning I lay in bed thinking of so many things… the sad, the awful, the traumatic… the lonely, the losses of so many precious things… but also of the triumphant and the beautiful.

I like who I am- even if I am a beautiful mess.  And all that pain… well it’s part of who I am.  But so is all that beauty and wonder and color.  I forget so often… but this song reminded me.

(AWOLNATION “I Am”)

Reblog: How low can you go? Lets talk about Suicidal Thoughts.

This is an excellent post. yes, I agree that suicidal thoughts and responses can be different for everyone. The root of the thoughts can come from so many different places and sometimes hit us at the most unexpected of times. Right now, I don’t so much feel suicidal as just wishing my time was done. I’m tired of being sick and PTSD and I fear so often that life will only get harder and I just don’t have the energy or the will to fight anymore. But I have a couple of anchors and they’ve kept me from seriously considering suicide. Just… praying, pleading to God that I would die… that’s probably been my lowest so far and the biggest realization that I needed to be proactive to keep those thoughts from becoming something more. And I totally understand how sometimes those thoughts ARE soothing. My fight is to recognize that line between soothing and dangerous. I WANT to want to live. I want my nieces to not just maybe barely remember me, but KNOW me as they grow up. So I keep fighting.
Anyway, I’m reblogging because you also make very good points about the shame and the stigma associated with suicidal thoughts. We HAVE to be able to talk about it if we want to fight it. The shaming needs to end. Thank you also for including so many resources for help in so many locations. Great post. Always Keep Fighting…

Dearest Someone,

In my head I’m singing this Cha Cha Slide style… but in reality I’m just procrastinating. 

‘How low can ya go, can ya go down low?’

I feel this is a post I should write, I know I’m not obliged to, and I know that it is a sensitive subject, and I know, I know, I know, I know that even the matter of thinking about the subject of this post is a very sensitive issue.

But, it’s a matter than truly scares, upsets, angers me… because of the stigma. (And of course other factors.)

Suicidal Thoughts

My experience, my thoughts on these thoughts.

Currently, in this exact moment of time I am in an incredibly awesome place, the sun is shining like crazy, I’m sitting on my bed where you can see a glorious view of Birmingham’s city skyline. I’m listening (and singing along) to my favourite music, I’ve…

View original post 1,090 more words

So many things…

I’ve been putting this off and putting it off for so many reasons.  None of which have anything to do with this.  I love blogging my ups and downs.  And I’ve really missed it the last couple of months.  But I haven’t really been in a great place, and you know how it is… well at least for me, I tend to hide until the shit goes away or it’s really repressed enough that I can just pretend to be normal and ok.  But that hasn’t been happening.  Instead, more shit just keeps appearing.

I’ve been kind of aware of some of what I’ve been hiding from.  But a couple days ago I totally broke down and admitted I hate this ostomy.  (Surgery went find, medically speaking, my ostomy is great and my health is much improved.)  But mentally, I’m not dealing with it as well as I thought I could.  See, when I was raped 16 years ago, the ONE thing I found was that I could survive anything.  I made that my rock.  It was my foundation and I built my world around it.  No matter how bad it got, I survived that, I can survive this.  It rather pisses me off that this lifesaving ostomy that I should be grateful for is causing that foundation to crumble.  I literally found myself praying to die the other night.  I don’t pray.  And I knew the prayer was pointless because God doesn’t answer my prayers.  But I felt so alone.  Even though my dear husband spent half the day with his arms around me in support… I feel pointless, I feel cheated.  For the first time in my life I hate my body.  I can’t bring myself to take a shower.  It’s so strong.  I know I need to, I get all my stuff ready, slowly, but when it comes down to it, I just can’t.  I hate dealing with the ostomy in the shower.  So I go a week without it, until my hard-wired need to meet certain social expectations finally wins out, and I force myself through it.  Purely so I can go to therapy the next day and keep my secret that i am barely holding it together.

Right now I feel jealous of everyone who is dead.  It was just a year ago one of my best friends took his life and all I can think is that I wish I could trade him places.  And Hope… dear Kyra.  I feel terrible that she felt so alone.  One of the first things I found out when I started reading blogs again was that she was gone.  It broke my heart.  She was the first person to ever follow my blog, comment… and hers was the first blog I ever followed.  She wa such a beautiful, intelligent person. and I’m sorry she’s gone.  And yet I can’t help but envy her just a tiny bit.  And I feel terrible about that.  Sometime I want to punch myself in the face for being so done by sometimes comparably small things.

 

My therapist thinks maybe its time I consider ECT.  I’m beginning to think he’s right, though I have mixed feelings about it.  I know some of you, my readers, have had it, and I would really appreciate some feedback.  If you feel like you don’t want to share on the blog, let me know and we can email each other or something.  I really want to know all the good and all the bad before I make a decision like this.  But something’s gotta change ’cause I can’t keep playing by the rules.  I’m just done.

The sun starts to cry…

Holy anxiety, Batman!  Been back and forth to bed a few times and it’s not taking so I guess I’ll write.  Sometimes that helps.  A while ago I mentioned a video that gets my little PTSD heart all teary.

Try to forget that this is a Supernatural fanvid.  It’s sort of “alternate universe” anyway, but it shows this character who has literally been to HELL and seen all sorts of awful in his life.  And then see him trying to live a normal life.  Wake up in the morning… those moments you lie in bed, wondering how you’re going to get through another day.  Then putting on your best face and going to work.  Then the moments when that unreal reality sneaks its way through.  And you try to lose yourself in the monotony of repetitive tasks, till another reminder finds its way in.  See the contrast between the memories and the present day… and how the memories themselves seem to be an alternate universe.  Not really real.  Not until you are reminded again.

This video could possibly be trigger-ish for some, so keep that in mind before watching.  For me, this was like finally being able to SEE the experience that just doesn’t have words.  It was affirmation.  But it is somewhat graphic and I don’t want it to be something that causes a flashback or anxiety itself.

video by Loki/SecretlyToDream “Till the Sun Starts To Cry”

The first time I saw this video, I cried and cried.  It was beautiful to me and I couldn’t stop watching.  I would be REALLY interested to know what ya’ll think.  Does it still translate if you’re not familiar with the show?

Blood on Your Teeth

I’ve been trying to figure out how you learn to love people again.  Or let them love you.  How do you bond or connect to people again when you’ve forgotten how?  I’m not even sure when I forgot… I just know I don’t really feel that in my life.  Especially in the places I want most to feel it.  I watch my sister and my niece and I’m so incredibly jealous of the bond they have.  I want that.  How do I get that?

When I was thinking about this post, I was trying to think of the song or video I’d put with it, because that’s my format.  I know it’s a bit different, but sometimes, if I frame my issue through that lens I get new perspective about it.  Definitely this time I got perspective.  I’ve always loved the song “I Know I’m A Wolf” from Young Heretics and have often tried to pinpoint exactly what it makes me feel.  I always thought I related to the wolf in the story because I could understand the desperation and loneliness.  It wasn’t until I put these two thoughts together that I realized I’m the rabbit in the story.  And all I see are wolves.

 

And the thing about this song, is you don’t really know if you CAN trust the wolf.  And so I remain a scared little rabbit.   How do you forget the blood on their teeth so that you can be brave long enough to trust?

I don’t know… I’ve always been the type to try to make fewer, closer friends… but a lot of times I feel totally abandoned by the people I feel I’m supposed to be able to rely on.  And it’s probably not because I’m too needy, it’s probably because I haven’t let them know how much I depend on them.  I’ve had some truly crappy friends (not that I don’t know I also have some great ones!) in my life… people who spread rumors about me, people who lied and cheated me to my face… I think I’ve gotten better at choosing friends, but they seem to come in and out of my life so easily.  Very few people stick around.  And now, realizing I’m “the rabbit”… I wonder if any of them have just gotten tired of trying to carry that connection.  So how do you learn to let them in?  I wish I knew, because it’s kind of lonely over here.

I haven’t seen Barbados

*Deeeeeeep Breath*  Ok.  I’ve been avoiding writing about my assault.  I just don’t even know where to start.  It’s been 16 years- nearly half of my life has now been defined by the fallout.  It’s hard to separate the parts of me born of the rape from the parts that were always intrinsically me.  I just can’t remember anymore.  But my anxiety has been getting worse.  Now I have these crazy tremors and my legs and jaw just randomly shake no matter what I’m doing.  It’s getting a lot harder to cope with all this stuff.

I have therapy later today.  I haven’t slept in two days and I feel like it’s time we start talking more about the trauma.  So I pulled out my trauma binder.  In the few years shortly after the rape I participated in a lot of group and individual therapy.  I have this notebook full of my own notes, homework assignments and some cool handouts.  I found this poem and it’s what I want to share:

 
The Rape Poem
by Marge Piercy (This poem first appeared in “Red War Sticks”)
Feminist Alliance Against Rape Newsletter Apr/May 1975

There is no difference between being raped
And being pushed down a flight of cement steps
Except that the wounds also bleed inside.
There is no difference between being raped
And being run over by a truck
Except that afterward men ask if you enjoyed it.
 
There is no difference between being raped
And being bitten by a rattlesnake
Except that people ask if your skirt was short
And why you were out alone anyhow.
 
There is no difference between being raped
And going headfirst through a windshield
Except that afterwards you are afraid
Not of cars
But half the human race.
 
The rapist is your boyfriend’s brother.
He sits beside you in the movies eating popcorn.
Rape fattens on the fantasies of the normal male
Like a maggot in garbage.
 
Fear of rape is a cold wind blowing
All of the time on a woman’s hunched back.
Never to stroll alone on a sand road through pinewoods,
Never to climb a trail across a bald
Without that aluminum in the mouth
When I see a man climbing toward me.
 
Never to open the door to a knock
Without that razor just grazing the throat.
The fear of the dark side of hedges,
The back seat of the car, the empty house
Rattling keys like a snakes warning.
The fear of the smiling man
In whose pocket is a knife
Waiting to glide its shark’s length between my ribs.
In whose fist is locked hatred.
 
All it takes to cast a rapist is to be able to see your
Body as jackhammer, as blowtorch, as adding-machine-gun.
All it takes is hating that body
Your own, your self, your muscle that softens to flab.
 
All it takes is to push what you hate,
What you fear into that soft alien flesh.
To bucket out as invincible as a tank
Armored with treads without senses
To possess and punish in one act, To rip up pleasure, to murder those who dare
Live in the leafy flesh open to love.
 
 

The first half of the poem especially speaks to me.  The wounds on the inside, invisible, invalidated by those who can’t understand.  I debated sharing a video with this post or not, and I think I’m going to link to a live performance of Tori Amos’ “Me and a Gun.”  Just a warning- this song is pretty triggering.  I couldn’t listen to it for years.  But now I watch this video and I see the very real emotion in her eyes and hear it in her voice.  This is a video that can bring me to tears.

 

 

Lyrics in case you’d like to read them:

“Me And A Gun”

5am
Friday morning
Thursday night
Far from sleep
I’m still up and driving
Can’t go home
obviously
So I’ll just change direction
Cause they’ll soon konw where I live
And I wanna live

Got a full tank and some chips
It was me and a gun
And a man on my back
And I sang “holy holy” as he buttoned down his pants
You can laugh
It’s kind of funny things you think
at times like these
Like I haven’t seen Barbados
So I must get out of this

Yes I wore a slinky red thing
Does that mean I should spread
For you, your friends your father, Mr. Ed

Me and a gun
and a man
On my back
But I haven’t seen Barbados
So I must get out of this
Yes I wore a slinky red thing
Does that mean I should spread
For you, your friends your father, Mr. Ed
And I know what this means
Me and Jesus a few years back
Used to hang and he said
“It’s your choice babe just remember
I don’t think you’ll be back in 3 days time
So you choose well”
Tell me what’s right
Is it my right to be on my stomach
of Fred’s Seville

Me and a gun
and a man
On my back
But I haven’t seen Barbados
So I must get out of this

And do you know Carolina
Where the biscuits are soft and sweet
These things go through you head
When there’s a man on your back
And you’re pushed flat on your stomach
It’s not a classic cadillac

Me and a gun
and a man
On my back
But I haven’t seen Barbados
So I must get out of this

Celebration

I hold an ancient artifact, newly discovered.  Encased in years of doubt, anger, shame, fear.  I chip away at the hardened areas, every revelation a new reason to celebrate.  I brush away at the muddied, finer areas, frustrated in the tediousness, but letting the tears allow the goddess to glisten and glow.  For years she has been hidden away waiting to be found, and she is ready.  Ready to show her beauty and art and soul to the world around her.  Ready to celebrate.

——————-

I usually take a bath before bed because it helps me relax and hopefully sleep better.  Plus I’m just not much of a morning person.  But this quiet morning I felt the urge to take a bath.  Baths are kind of a ritual for me.  I have the bath salts, essential oils, soaps, a soft sponge, whatever will turn it into the best experience.  Today I felt drawn to my Green Valley Spa Fairy Dust salts, “Celebrate” (orange) in particular.  And as the water ran in and I began to relax, the above thoughts came to me.   The words were much better then, but the image the same.  I have a difficult time meditating usually, but this was so clear to me, I was deeply touched and wanted to share.  Sometimes I love the silence of the morning, so rather than include a song or video, I’m just going to leave this post in stillness.  Thanks for reading.

If It Gives You Joy

So a few months ago, I decided I didn’t really care if I lived anymore.  I didn’t want to kill myself, and I didn’t really want to die, but I was just so exhausted and felt so hopeless about the future that I just thought “hey it’d be kind of ok to not wake up sometime,” or “next time I go into surgery, I’d be ok with not coming out of it…”  That sort of thing.  And I knew I needed help.  Because I wanted to want to live!  So I did some searching and found myself a new therapist.  We’d just moved into a new area and the old support group wasn’t really as accessible.  And I think I found a good one.  So far anyway 😉

The last couple weeks I have been REALLY struggling with anxiety.  Like RED ALERT anxiety.  I just visited with my doctor again a few days ago and we’ve adjusted some meds… so far so good.  But I was thinking tonight that I’d like to write about coping skills because sometimes I forget when I’m in the midst of that panicked hopeless feeling.  Obviously, different things are going to work for different people… but these are some of the things that have worked for me over the years:

1- Pull out the coloring book and some crayons.  There’s just something satisfying to me about coloring in the lines and maybe it’s partly about connecting with the kid inside, but I love to color.  And there’s all sorts of great coloring pages you can find online now.  Pinterest is a great source for coloring pages.  And markers, colored pencils… those are fun too, but good old crayons… they just smell right!

2-  The other night when I was freaking out, I decided to TRY taking a bath even though I wasn’t sure I could sit still.  But before I got in the tub, I grabbed a skin brush and dry brushed my whole body.  Dry brushing has a lot of great health and skin benefits, but something about the physical stimulation I think helped pull me out of my brain a little bit.  I was able to settle down and enjoy a bath (with some nice relaxing bath salts) and I really felt better afterwards.  Plus my skin was super soft- BONUS!

3- Sometimes I just need to wrap up in a nice warm blanket.  I think I can understand why babies love to be swaddled.

4- Music and Dance.  Sometimes you don’t need both, but for me, it’s nearly impossible to feel crappy when I’ve been dancing.  So if I have the energy- then this is a great soother for my heart.  I used to bellydance so sometimes that’s what I do, and sometimes I just put some good club type music on and dance around the house like I did in my single, clubbing days.  That was fun!

5- Aromatherapy.  If you can get your hands on it, I highly recommend the book The Blossoming Heart by Robbi Zeck.  She profiles 56 different oils and shows you how you can use these to heal emotional wounds.  At one point http://www.naturesgift.com used to sell the book with a kit that included 2ml bottles of each oil in a small case.  I take this case with me EVERYWHERE.

6- Make a phone call.  Calling my 3 year old niece makes my heart sing.

7- Laugh.  Have fun.  Find Joy.  This is where I post some obligatory links to some favorite videos… because… they make me happy!

Supernatural is full of funny videos- this one is just fun and one of the many reasons I love this fandom:

Dr. Horrible is a favorite, and here’s a clip of a favorite song:

 

Watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer‘s musical episode, “Once More With Feeling” always makes me smile.  (Not too many great links for this, but here’s one anyway):

 

Pretty much anything The Piano Guys do makes me happy, but especially watching Steven Sharp Nelson play the cello because HE is just so darn happy!:

 

And one last video because it inspired the name of the post:

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