I have learned to trust myself. This is huge for someone that has experienced trauma especially as a child under the age of six. These children have been programed to believe that not one person cares enough to protect or save them. It takes a lot of therapy and rewiring the brain to have happy positive thoughts about yourself and the world around you be the default.
It did get worse before it got better. But the other side of the middle passage of pain is beautiful.
I listened to Brene Brown’s “The Anatomy of Trust” and it confirmed for me that I am healed enough to be true to my intuition, gut feeling or voice of God. Whatever you call knowing what is right for you, I trust that more than I trust people. As long as I stay in the will of God I trust everything will be alright.
I have been made in the fire,
laid out in the sun to become ashes
that fall upon my body and burn away the pain,
I know if I make through this,
after what I already made it through
a 100 facet diamond will have nothing on my glow,
my shine so bright that all night flees in the wake of me,
the powerful one able to look at the sun,
the one that gives life from the womb,
the one who holds up the moon and shoots stars around mars and can be the diamond that all diamonds aspire to be,
you cant see me because I be in your soul,
want to find me,
you want to be a kind like me,
but you will never be
because it is only your own shine
that will nurture you soul and make you whole.
by mozayik “the souls’ poet”
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.
you have no power over me.
you’ve held me captive much too long
you were my master and i your slave
you even tried to take me to my grave
the scales have fallen off my eyes
perfect love found me
now i know you are just a wanna be
in the presence of love you flee
i have power over you
love has destroyed every yoke
victory is mine i am free
i have power over fear
There may be some truth to pain is fear leaving. All of 2012 I have been in therapy dealing with the fear of PAIN. I was living with the fear of psychological and physical pain. My quality of life was affected because I feared doing anything that would result in me being in unbearable pain.
I was afraid to allow the memories and flashbacks to surface because I thought I could not endure the overwhelming feelings of shame and heartbreak. Along with the memories my body would hurt in direct proportion to area of my body that was being harmed in my memory. I actually felt a release of painful energy. I felt lighter more free, less afraid.
I know beyond a shadow of doubt that one of the biggest reasons I have Fibromyalgia is because my flight or fight response is stuck to ON. That means I have been living in a state of tension/terror all my life and this has caused me to tense all my muscles and now I am telling my muscles to relax and that is not my natural state. I do not know how to relax. Therein lies my problem. Even my brain has been wired abnormally but that is being changed every time I get out of bed and “Keep it Moving”
You don’t see my agony.
I try and hide it away.
But, what I really need are
hands on my body.
They say don’t feel sorry for yourself.
Well, that does not put the pain away on a shelf.
It keeps coming and coming and I can’t get away
to make it stay, gone.
When I am home alone,
no one here to wipe my tears
and every joint in my body
feels like it has reached its breaking.
What point is it to keep the tears inside?
Although, I want to hide
away in darkness so no one will see
the side effects this shit has on me:
grouchy, mouthy, tired and lacking luster.
My lusciousness stolen by fibromyalgia.
I know pain, and pain knows me well.
I am tying not to make my life a living hell
by complaining and begging for help.
But dam it; I need somebody to put their hands on me
I am not one that can live without the touch of a lover.
Under the cover of my lovers’ touch my pain can’t harm me.
It now becomes sweet relief, just a kiss away.
After our energy exchange, all pain has faded.
I know it is chemistry
but I still want that hold
that touches and rubs under my clothes.
Crying releases endorphins
but they say don’t be a cry baby.
Don’t co-host a party with pity.
Shit the partied already started
without my permission.
I tell you I am on a mission
to find that lover that won’t get tired
of putting her hands on me.
I try to be strong and smile with grace,
telling everybody I am okay,
but as soon as their gone
tears replace smiles,
fears invade joy,
come rushing through the door
looking for more of my goodness to squander.
It might make me wallow.
It might make me sigh.
It might make me wish I could die.
But, after tears something magical happens.
I feel like maybe, I can beat this,
and whether I have a lover or not
this is still my lot.
I chose to cry about it and move myself out of the way,
because I know it will pass and I will remember these days.
I will tell about them to my lover.
She will hug me under the cover of love.
Ugh I wish she would hurry up
by mozayik “the souls’ poet”