I want to get into my truck and just scream at the top of my lungs until all the frustrations of the last year leave my soul.
My PTSD treatment got abruptly discontinued and to me it feels like I am only half done. I collected traumatic memories for over 13 years and somehow the insurance providers expect me to get better in 4 months. Let me tell you, that will not happen.
Healing takes time - even if it is only mental health related. Unfortunately, my body doesn't feel like all my problems are only in my head. It literally reflects in everything I do. I feel like an audiocassette with most of the tape pulled out... and scattered around the room. It's a tape full of life stories and adventures, and forgotten mysteries with which I am not really ready to deal, Got to sharpen up my pencil before I can roll it all back and hope that it will still play the same as it used to.
Last week I brought up Julie&Julia because I crave to create something. Anything. Create something new. Create a new version of myself and that is not linked to my old work identity and all the trauma that is attached to it. I am tired of falling through the cracks - those in the mental healthcare as well as those original cracks that got me into a bad mental health space in the first place.
I am a complex individual and so are my ways of healing. I want to say I gave up, but the truth is I never did - I was forced to unbecome myself and turn into a sad unhappy version of myself. It's been 7 months since I ended up in the ER with sever panic attacks and was diagnosed with severe PTSD.
At the begging of this year I have finally given myself a list of green lights to not just heal but start building a new life for myself, One that is full of forgiveness, joy, movement, and dark sexually charged femininity.
Today, was the first time I walked more than 5000 steps on purpose. I have new medication and even though it makes me feel like crap (thanks SSRIs) and my face is super puffy, and I feel old - I also feel a tinge of hope. The hope that comes from the fact that all of a sudden it feels like the only person who can help me out at this point is in fact me. Client-led approach is out of the window. I am going back to my regular psychologist and focus strongly on re-arranging my life for the next 90 days. I feel like that is how long I still need to get back to a functioning human being,
PTSD and now full on depression due to complete loss of my previous identity is hard to deal with. Getting out of bed seems impossible. Making any big steps in any direction takes every ounce of energy away. This sucks. I suck.
But I forgive myself because I am not at fault.
And I give myself a green light to start again. Even at my age. Just start. The hardest part.
Yesterday, I went to the gym. Then for the rest of the day I cried because that used to be easy and now it's wrapped in the thickest blanket of insecurity.
Today, I cleaned the kitchen and went for a walk, which I volunteered to do for my community.
Alone. Time alone, but moving forward. That is what I currently need,
90 days minus 2.
The countdown is on.
It's here! Happy 2023!
I mean, truly inexplicably happy New Year!
I am falling back into the rhythm of early 2000s, when I could just stay fully in my own lane. Creating, writing, posting stories for me alone. Black and white letters streaming onto the screen in the form of free speech, free flow of ideas, and just pure creative energy that uses the most powerful resource - our imagination. Remember Julie&Julia? Remember starting recipes from scratch and learning about self in the process? Remember the psychology behind immersing into something whole heartedly? The joy that feeling brings? I miss it. I have not experienced it for a while - I rushed and rushed and then burned out. Now I am on the 7th month of recovery from major trauma and this year will be all about giving myself more green lights.
Green light to be able to be both healing and growing.
Green light to eat well and at the same time have the joy of extravagantly complex meals.
Green light to slow all the way down when necessary and speed up with desire when required.
I give myself a green light to love myself at this current stage of life as I am today, on the cusp of life full of experiences and something entirely new.
I give myself a green light to love my body as it is right this second, but also give it room and opportunities to change for the better through work and time.
Green light to forgive myself the guilts - the mom guilt, the wife guilt, changing my life plan guilt, the unorganized home guilt.
I give myself green light to start new projects, try new things, read new books I love from cover to cover,.. and discard those that no longer interest me.
Green light to try new things even when I am scared of the outcomes.
I give myself permission to disconnect and take time to figure out what I need when things become unclear or emotions too overwhelming.
I give myself a green light to start re-shaping my body and not expect it to change over night - give it time, buy a gym membership, stretch.
Green light to stretch; in all aspects of that word, Creatively, physically, mentally, emotionally.
Green light to do a Masters Program at a University for something I* am actually interested in.
I give myself a green light to pursue things not just for the picture perfect memory but for the one that becomes a core memory for the future.
Green light to choose what I think is best for me and my family.
I give myself permission to do all the hard things that I have not been able to do while ptsd was eating away at my daily rituals and living standards.
Green light to be myself, but a new, more thorough version of myself but at the same time softer and more gentle.
I give myself a green light to light up my inner child so she could be proud of what she has become over the last three decades.
I give myself a green light to dream big and fill those dreams with action full glittering memories of delightful personal growth and creative expansion.
It feels impossible to get out of my own head. It felt like my life was finally settled. I had a stable job, a degree, a marriage with all the beautiful things that come with it. I felt comfortable. I volunteered and I admired those that had the energy to do it all. I felt as though I was the creative force behind social projects, family events, and friendship circles. I grew up. I felt like finally I was adulting. What I had and lost was passion. Passion for life. It got eaten away by constant requests from those around me and sever bout of PTSD from work. I used to love being that person - the quiet force behind unglamourous but extremely important job. Then the chaos came in the form of people who lost all compassion for humanity. A whole bunch of them sprouted during the pandemic like bad mushrooms. Instead of a promised promotion I got niched into one of the most brain damaging jobs. Cool cool cool. I am not angry at all, can you tell?
No, the truth is I am angry that I lost the view of my passion. My dreams. My ideas. My opinions. My voice.
2023 is not going to be a year of lost voices, or passions. It will be a revival of my personality and final healing from the PTSD.
My words for 2023 are: Delightful Ambitions.
It's time to find joy in things that I have lost the joy in and start fresh.
I try to fit my boobs into a bra that I have purchased a year ago. They won't go in. The strap in the back is too short. I know, I know. "I've let myself go", and that is the first thing that comes to mind.
What is wrong with our society if that is in fact the first thing that always comes to mind? How about the fact that when you go shopping at a bra speciality store - you literally have a person who straps you in and with some force I might add. You stand there in perfect light and with two (if not more) extra hands to help you. Have you ever tried putting on the same stuff at home... when you are alone, in a rush, sweating, while your mind constantly telling you that you are not good enough to wear something incredibly sexy and expensive? Ladies, plus sized beauties, you know what I mean? Yeah you do. Men, your only job is to successfully take those items off - if you got your proper consent.
I did not let myself go. What I have let go is of a job that has left me with severe PTSD and huge trust issues. What I have let go of is having constant IBS due to high stress. What I have let go of is spending time with people that did not respect me. What I have let go of is feeling sick in the morning and not being able to sleep at night.
It's been four months and I am just now starting to figure out my sleep again. My body is finally starting to relax and maybe it is trying to catch up with missed meals, missed sleep, and all the calories I have spent on crying at the psychologist's office. I am going through a complete transformational period in my life where I have to heal everything from the inside out: my body, my connections with people, my motivation, my home, my identity.
I finally understand that this will take time. Healing takes time. Sometimes longer than expected. At the beginning I have given myself a month to "deal" with the problem and it turns out my mind had other plans. It took eight years of work to get here - it will take years to get out.
I grieve the personality I have to let go of - she was a strong and independent woman - who protected me from dealing with egregious material day and in day out for over eight years. She was so good at hiding the stress that even my brain had difficult time realizing it, but then my support was gone and everything went crushing down. If you were the one who supported me- you know - because I come to you in your dreams and still lean on you when necessary.
Perhaps it is kind of sad that I have to let go of those pretty bras, but at the end if the only thing I have left from this entire experience is knowing that my cups have runneth over... so be it. Cheers to having more of me to share with the world when I am ready.
Delightfully confused by my own brain.
I do not consider myself a sad bitch or even a sad person. I am full of life, vibrant individual, whose house is constantly creatively messy. I do not have time for not living. I am in the prime of my life with so many things behind my belt. But not according to my new trainer. What I have behind my belt is a few extra pounds. Too many few extra pounds.
I love this body. It birthed babies. It created so many beautiful ideas and pieces of art. It knows how to make humans swoon. It knows exactly when to smile, cry, be angry, laugh, and when is the right time to hug. This body has done so much for me. I wish I could love it more. Share it more. Expect less. And simply put more work into it.
I have not. Not in the last six months. Not since my work has caused me copious amounts of stress and my brain simply started shutting down memories, opportunities for conversations, cutting out time, pushing my mind into a dream world during the day and keeping me in the nightmares at night. My body has been warning me for half the year that it was time to get out - upset stomachs, constant headaches, body aches, weight gain. It worked so hard to warn me - it would either rev up my heart or my heartburn. It would yell at me from the inside to just take a break from work.
I listened to it, but I should have listened earlier, before the severe PTSD kicked in. Before my long term memory started to get affected. And definitely before I started to slowly disassociate from reality, from the trauma I saw day in and day out.
I worked hard, I valued my job, but my job did not value me and so my body quit.
It's been a few months since I first got diagnosed with severe PTSD created by cumulative secondary work trauma. PTSD killed my motivation. Destroyed it - in it's entirety. I have zero of it to do anything. Out of every other PTSD symptom that I had, lack of motivation is the hardest one. It keeps me away from doing things I love. It makes me stay in bed at the most random times of the day. It has cut into producing beautiful things, into making love, into being fully engaged in life, into doing any kind of physical activity that my body needs.
No amount of Pinterst-ing is enough to just get up and move. My lack of motivation borders on full blown depression. Where is motivation to live a life full of potential? It feels like it will never come back. It will. PTSD is treatable and most cases remit within two years.
I guess I am not tired of being a sad bitch after all. I am just tired of being an unmotivated bitch.
My body is trying so hard to protect me - it is keeping me in a bubble wrap with this long silk black ribbon around it. I am like a luxurious gift just waiting to be open to all the future opportunities in this world. I am doing all this mental work to get better but the physical work is still frozen in ice.
I can no longer stay unmotivated. I do not have time for not living. It's time for this vibrant woman to get her body on a new page. Expect work - expect that undoing all this damage will take a long time. It's time to plan for new tattoos and boudoir photoshoots, a new glowing career, and most of all higher expectation from thyself.
My new trainer asked today what I wanted to achieve in my gym sessions. I said I wanted to fall back in love with movement. Any kind of movement, in the right direction.
He said but what about measurable goals?
My goal is to wake up tomorrow.
My goal is to stay alive.
My goal is to stop being a sad bitch.
I have enough on my mental plate to keep me occupied for days just trying to figure out the right direction. I get angry easily and don't have any patience for any kind of criticism, thanks PTSD. Today, after finishing my registration for the university (it's official in a few months I will be a part-time student again) and submitting the first fee (smallest of them all) I have melted down. The uncertainty of it all is crushing. The fact that so many out there do not think I can do it - is even more soul crushing. I planned on doing it before PTSD hit me up, so I should stick to the original plan. I've already tried to sabotage my own application and at the end I still went with finishing up my application process. And. I. got. in.
I am working on figuring out my sleep and my concentration issues and until that stabilizes, I guess I will be going on more walks. "SAD GIRL walks" #sadgirlwalks. Not to be confused with #hotgirlwalks. Sad girl walks are those walks where I need to complete the cycle. The cycle of getting angry, or panicky, or upset, or depressed. The cycle that a memory, a though, a word start but can't be completed because the body starts a 'fight or flight' response and there is no real danger to fight and no real enemy to run away from. So in comes the 'sad girl walkies'. Walkies help because they help to deal with the body reactions to stress. If you already have increased heart rate, and the blood is flowing to your muscles, your breathing has sped up, your pupils dilated, and your pain levels dropped - and then you sit back down... your body does not know what to do. So get up! Use up that energy. Go on a sad girl walk, Eventually, those walks will turn into hot girl walks. I promise.
Hot girl walk it was not; with tears pouring down my face, smeared mascara, and the feeling of being lost and alone have only made my walk feel less luxurious. It felt rushed. It felt unprepared for. It felt exactly as it was - a sad girl walk. A walk that one needed to get away from it all or perhaps more of a sprint, trying to get away from my own self.
This story is not about my sad girl walk, but more about how it ended. With a hug from a stranger, It felt so good to share with a neighbor that I was just out and about on a sad girl walk. Late summer evening walk. Just out there, all alone in the elements (and by elements I mean swarms of angry mosquitos) minding my own sad-girl business. So I shared with a neighbor that I am out on a walk, for unspecified reasons and as a result I got a hug (well that or maybe because I am just a great person). Who knows maybe this said neighbor greets everyone that way... It was momentary and it was healing, though it took me about an hour to recognize it in my body.
The science of hugs still has a lot of controversies around it, but humans and some other mammals, instinctively understand the positive effects of hugs, Dr. Jan Astrom said, “The positive emotional experience of hugging gives rise to biochemical and physiological reactions” and with that a dump of oxytocin. Oxytocin tends to make us feel less stressed, more relaxed, and create a stronger bond between people. After all oxytocin is known as a 'love hormone'.
The rest of the night has spiraled into me thinking about the connection between hugs and people, about how we relate to strangers, ways to empathy, and who in my life has given me the best hugs and for what reasons. And so my mind has drifted from one hug to two, to all the other situations I have been in. I guess, there is now enough to say in part two... and until that time I will just leave you with this: your hugs are the best.
Dr. Jan Astrom said, “The positive emotional experience of hugging gives rise to biochemical and physiological reactions”
There was an entire world of the unknow last time I have made a blog post. There was so much uncertainty as to what we were going to do with the virus, with staying at home, with our jobs, and families, Everything was at a standstill for some of us. For others, like myself, the work world has not changed much - just made some slight adjustments. For me those adjustments meant stressful separations from the family and singing Frozen's "into the unknown" every time I have opened the front door.
While I was trying to be mentally supporting to my family and friends, I have slowly drowned in stress I did not know was there. You all know that the world was a little much a year ago and still a little much today. Comes in my diagnosis of severe PTSD. I hit the mental rock bottom, while trying to smile through on-line and in-person meetings, raising children that have spent 1/3 of their lives living through the pan'doom'ic, and aimlessly trying to build community. Actually, multiple communities. Life does not stop for anyone - time just keeps going on.
Three years later we live in a different world but same bureaucratic red tape, crappy events happening around the world, and chaotic news from various corners of the World. At least we now how less patience thanks to TikToks, spending way too much time on the screens, and the comparison games we play on the Instagram.
I did not end up with PTSD because of the pandemic, I ended up with PTSD because I have been exposed to disturbing material on a daily basis as part of my full time job, concurrently for over eight years. The stressors pushed onto me by the world and lack of stronger psychological supports have made the daily work stress unmanageable. Even though my mind did not recognize the signs - my body has shown me plenty over the last six months, ending up with a major panic attack and an ER visit.
I have been off work for over a month (after a full on fight for getting the time off) and only now starting to see what it is I am hiding from underneath the blankets in a room with drawn up curtains. I am a grown up who is hiding from the world because that actions of actions made me want to crawl back into my mother's womb, fuck PTSD, fuck Depression. I will not be the victim of actions of others and even knowing that there is a hard fight ahead, I will not give up. I will take it slow - the good news is PTSD is treatable within 5 years of the event,,, so like in (8x5=40 years) in FOURTY years, I should be just fine. With therapy it should go away mostly, if not entirely within six months to six years. I am looking forward to it.
I am at a crossroads of my life getting uprooted after my ER visit. I have no old job, my identity is shot, and I have no idea what is in store. Yesterday, in my dream I got a message from the Universe in a way of a non-nightmare dream... I have cut off my hair while looking in the mirror, added bright colors to the newly black French bob, and have let go of all that was pushing me down,
"I am confident to say that the Universe has new plan for me.
Whatever it is - I will find it, I will follow it, and I WILL be successful at it"
I have lost my motivation to do anything for the last six months, but none of you would know it. Even those close to me would not be able to tell that my cup was entirely empty, my soul dried out, and my head was always heavy. Don't underestimate how much people actually carry on their shoulders - you do not know who is fighting and trust me that you for sure do not know who is sometimes fighting for the safety of your children behind securely closed doors.
While I was struggling for the last six months I somehow managed to also apply for a Master of Counselling Program through one of the online Universities.
I am looking at the Acceptance Letter into a new life.
art-time. Full of hard work and new boundaries, but maybe behind it all lies not only full healing but a way to heal others. This is a letter inviting me to take a leap into the unknown before I am fully ready.
Per aspera ad Astra.
Writing passionate articles while sipping Prosecco in a busy restaurant on an early Friday afternoon – that is life. That’s what pleasant memories and self-care look like. Just like the bubbles in the glass of the Prosecco memories should rise to the surface and surprise you with graceful reminders of the things you chose to do and people you chose to do those things with. You are the glass, remember that. We hold the key to what we decide to fill our soul, mind, and body with. Life satisfaction does not come from others – it comes from the within. It comes when you let go of the boundaries and start creating a life that you truly desire. This is how you build your own destiny and freedom.
This is not about toxic positivity. Life will not just turn around. It will take work and healing and it is a process that we must commit to. So where is the start? Dating your own self. Falling back in love with your body, your ideas, your desires, your hopes, and your big fabulous dreams. It is about normal positivity. It’s about managing life with a ‘fill your own glass and enjoy it’ kind of attitude.
Life has got me down quite a bit lately. The post-pandemic return to normal in a not so post-pandemic world is a lot to handle. Emotionally and physically – I am not ready to go back, but I haven’t truly been gone. The lockdown was just a little stay at home part time order. Groceries are still getting sanitized. But the people are back. Vaccinated, happy, touchy. Almost everyone is back feeling comfortable to stay together while staying a safe distance apart. I prefer to be more apart then together.
Being apart from people makes us underestimate how much we actually need connections. It makes us overestimate our feelings about ourselves. I feel like I have failed to take care of my body during the second half of the pandemic – because I had to take care of the fruit of my loom. I forgot what stress and eating combined together can do. I filled my glass too many times with pop instead of water and I’ve surrendered my body to the quick fixes of the sugar rushes instead of long-term positive influence of endorphins. I feel like I have failed. Again. At something that should be a priority. It wasn’t until I started to slowly slide into depression and anxiety that I have started to pay more attention to the details I’ve neglected.
I’ve done self-care in a superficial way - new nails, new clothes. Those are all just band-Aids for the parts that need healing. It’s all much better put together when the new shiny nails and cool designer clothes are not covering but complimenting the whole package.
Mentally, I am back at the point where I am ready to put in more work. I am ready to see my life and my attitude as a glass not half-full, not as half-empty, but as a glass full of potential. What we put in we take out. What we throw into the Universe comes back to us tenfold from the same Universe. I am creating a life of pleasant memories. A life where I am in charge of my destiny and my own freedom. It will take work.
Today, after sipping a glass of Prosecco on a lazy Friday, I can tell that I know exactly what I need to get back to, where I want to be, and how to go past my own expectations. I want to create a life as carefree as the bubbles floating to the surface. Create memories so plentiful and delightful that every single one of them is a treat.
My self-proclaimed nickname is Delightful D.
Let’s go look for that delightful life together.
How to create and utilize your board?
Create a list of goals you want to achieve in 2021.
Find images that symbolize your goals.
Put down only images, words, feelings you want to attract into your life.
Imagine that you are already living this life, that everything you desire you already have.
Spend time each morning and evening visualizing, affirming, believing, and internalizing these goals.
Have the Vision Board where you can see it, if you used the digital wallpaper – place it on your desktop screen!
WTF? We survived 2020 but since we had to simply focus on survival so planning for all the amazing things in 2021 is hard.
The truth is this that we have to sit down and have a serious conversation with ourselves. We have stop worrying about the world and focus on what we want to do and how we want to do it.
This coming up Monday, January 18, is the Monday that is always known as the BLUE Monday it’s when the Christmas bills come in, it’s when the joy of Christmas runs out, and the reality that we are already procrastinating on our goals becomes obvious. Some say that the blue Monday is one of the most depressing days of the year so let’s turn it around and let’s focus not only on our well-being but also on creating some new goals and some new dreams by starting to imagine and create our new perfectly wonderful reality.
➡️ Write down 5 small goals.
➡️ Write down 5 things you are thankful for.
✨ Tell yourself that it is okay to make mistakes and
forgive yourself for making them.
Now that you have detached from the overwhelming need to come up with new year resolutions,
failed at the said resolutions, and forgiven yourself for not keeping them - you can start fresh. 🌱
Mostly, I urge you to believe in yourself because empowerment starts within you.
Scribble your ideas, find the quotes that make you really believe that there is room for your talent, your opinions, your dreams.
Lets change that WTF into FTW!
Just START ⭐️
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