Everyday I fight

This positive attitude is sometimes the result of an excruciating battle with P.T.S.D and Fibromyalgia.  I worked hard in therapy learning new coping skills like tapping and visualization.  Breathing awareness is essential but also grounding myself in the here and now is my goal after something triggers me.

Sometimes I am aware of it and sometimes it just hits me like a ton of bricks catching me off guard. On guard is the natural state for someone with P.T.S.D. I may see it coming and can prepare myself and map out a plan by choosing tools to use beforehand.

I pray. I use deep breathing and create mantras to repeat in my head to keep me grounded.  After the triggering event I may or may not have to decompress the emotions that may still exist in my body. The point I am making is “IT IS WORK” it is a daily fight.

Because of therapy I can cope with the effects of being a survivor of rape at the age of five.  Effects like, always being aware of my surroundings, having to bring myself back to the here and now and the sleepless nights because your brain is wired to stay awake and alert all night to stay safe for the last 45 years. I know it will take years to undo not only psychological effects but also the physiological effects as well.

It is a fight everyday of self-examination and reflection to identify and rectify where this shit shows up. It is getting better and somewhat easier but I haven’t got there yet. Now, after therapy I am closer to having the past be just a memory with little feeling or emotion attached to it. It is not ever like none of it happened.   In my soul I am really grateful for all of my experiences.  I am always hopeful that my sharing helps.

It is kind of like a broken arm. Surgery may be required to repair it and will result in a scar as a reminder that it happened. It may hurt like hell for months and then after healing it may develop arthritis in that area of your arm and every time the weather changes you are reminded of the event that caused the broken arm.

So, yeah I am healed but healing does not remove the scar. Healing means although the scar is there the pain is not as intense.  Like the arm I know when to protect myself from the elements that may cause a set back. Awareness  that I may still be a little fragile will go a long way.

I believe I have fibromyalgia because of what happened to me as a child.  I will explain my theory in another post. I have dealt with depression all of my life and P.T.S.D had left a legacy of pain in my life until I committed to healing. It has also led me to my Purpose.

Every day I deal with all of these conditions that feed on each other.

Mornings and evenings are the worst.  I wake with physical pain every morning.  Each morning is different when it comes to my pain level.

It takes me at the minimum 2 hours to get myself to a place where the pain is not forcing me back to bed.  That can include taking pain pills, muscle relaxers and fixing breakfast with hands hurting so badly that opening a drawer, cutting my eggs, or washing a skillet may leave me in tears or at the least holding back the “ouches” that want to escape my soul.  Every day I fight to overcome this and get something accomplished (this day).

It is a vicious cycle that is never-ending.  I can’t sleep because P.T.S.D and some event may have triggered me. The healing part is that I am aware. I know what to do to get back to a place of peace, but, IT TAKES WORK.  It is not effortless.  I imagine one day it will be but today is not that day.

I am a conqueror because I overcome many times throughout the day.  That is why I strive for happiness moment to moment.  It might appear that I am in La La land. I am just living in the moment.

So, no sleep from P.T.S.D will mean when I do wake up after taking something to force the hand of sleep, I have more pain which can lead to depression if I don’t fight.  Some days all I want to do is lay back down and go to sleep but I know that comes with a price so I have to push past pain.

Every day the task is to assess how much energy is available and decide where it will be spent.

I am no longer just a survivor.  I am a conqueror. A victim says “why me?” a survivor say “whew, I made it out”, a Conqueror says “God use me to help make other lives better.”

We all have choices and we all have our tailored made cross to balance the mountains and valleys that will prepare us for our Purpose.

“Not Guilty”

The guilty seek punishment.  I have chosen to stop beating up on myself and declare myself not guilty.  Being guilty suggests that I have done something wrong.  I realize that I have done nothing wrong.  My intentions when making the decisions that haunt me were pure.

I would be guilty if I’d made deliberate decisions with malice or ill will.  Guilt says that I intentionally did harm and expected a bad result.  Innocence suggests that the decision was made expecting a good outcome.

At the time that is what was best.  Of course after years of experience I now have a 20/20 hindsight view.  I dealt with life based on the knowledge and experience I had up till that moment.

So it is okay to let myself off the hook.  I can forgive myself.

I can accept that I deserve love.

I am worthy of all things good.

I am much more than the sum of my choices.

When we know better we do better.

Forgiving myself opens the door to my ability to forgive others.  It has been said

“In all your getting, get understanding”. Even when I don’t understand I trust the process.  Love covers a multitude of sins.

I forgive me

Love is an inexhaustible stream

given at birth for me to give away

the only power I have

the only thing I could ever control

is my choice to love

I don’t have to chase it

or look for it I am it

so I decide to love

right now this second

giving you my love

makes my love overflow

the only reason to be alive is to love

any other reason and you are just biding time

I was thinking about what motivated me to quit smoking.  I was not walking my talk.  Now that I know what self-love really looks like I am finding it easy to make changes in my life that prove how much i love myself.

Since my earlier post where I talked about not yet having forgiven the man who raped me at five,  I have done a lot of thinking about forgiveness.

I forgave the little girl in me for being vulnerable.  I forgave her all the things she thought she had done wrong because she really had done nothing wrong.  It was not her fault and it had nothing to do with her personally.  I forgave her for crying and for loving the wrong people because she did not know how to protect herself.  I told her how strong she is and how brave she has been.  I told her how proud i am of her for all of her accomplishments  because she had a lot to overcome.

I forgave her and told her that I loved her and would always be here to protect her.

After that forgiving my perpetrator was easy.  That is the gift of self-love I give to myself.

Agony

my groans are unutterable

the pain is too deep

the cries have no sound

and yet I weep

the soul is bound

with love nowhere found

not one person to connect with

“I am bound”

not one person to understand

that my suffering is my own

conceived by a wicked plan

if you say you love me

why can’t I feel it

why is your touch non-existent

am I alone in this great big world

will there be healing for this little girl

How are you supposed to feel about yourself when  accused of trying to kill your little brother at the age of three or four.  You know the truth although you are only three years old.  You know that your mother is lying to cover her own ass.  She knows damn well she left a three-year old and a two-year old in the apartment by themselves.  This is my very first memory of childhood.

Again, please let me say that I do not want pity.  I truly believe my soul chose the circumstances of my life.  All of these traumas were mine to experience to get the lessons I needed to evolve.  But, that does not mean I did not feel, or endure the effects of the traumas.  I am telling my story because I feel compelled to do so.  Maybe it is just for me to finally purge this crap.  Or, it might be someone needs to know they can make it and see that it does get better with time and hard work.

Yeah, it sucks that you have to fix your self.  I know there are people who have experienced things more horrific  but if my soul chose this, then it is safe to say that this is all I could handle.  We all walk our own path.

I would hear “yo mama did not want you, if it were not for me aint no telling where your little high yellow ass would be”  This may have been true but the delivery of the message was brutal.  I grew up feeling like I owed everybody something.  I felt I did not deserve love.  Come on, if I were worthy my mother would not have left me, right.  I could not see that them taking me in and protecting me was Love. My grandmother was correct, if she and my auntie and great-grandmother had not took me in only God knows………….

Fear was my everything.  It helped me survive when I was a child but as an adult it stopped me from having healthy relationships.  Through therapy I have learned to not take my mother’s neglect (leaving me in apartment alone for at least 2 days) personally.  I was caught up in her drama or sickness and it had nothing to do with me except this was what my soul chose.  She would have been what she was even if I had never been born.  Knowing that has freed me so much that words can not explain.  It wasn’t my fault.

I still had to heal from the side effects of her does not remove the effects of her boyfriend raping me when I was five years old.  I have abandonment issues, trust issues and fear was a part of my   Anger was my armor.  It kept people away from me so they could not hurt me.  Anger made me powerful and in control but nothing could be further from the truth.  It was controlling me because my anger was always inappropriate to the situation.

I really would not trade anything for my journey.  Everything is Everything and it all has a purpose.  It took me a while to get here but all that matters is I am here.  Love

p.s.

My brother survived only to die at the age 36 from the effects of alcoholism and drug addiction.  I don’t believe he ever healed from the abuse and neglect.