Nailed in the past… a paradox

This is one of those things that when I think about my Complex-PTSD should have been obvious. How I missed it for so long really confounds me.

I often talk about the paradoxes that arise in C-PTSD. Here I have stumbled into another one. It goes something like this.

Huh. I just realized how weird it is to live with one foot nailed in the past when you can’t remember any of it.

ThinkingTooLoud

100-word Essay: Off The Rails

If you want to know more about this cycle within Complex-PTSD take a gander at this post.

Scattered

As children we were blown apart. Now we seek to draw those parts together.
As children, we were blown apart. Now we seek to draw those parts together.

Just a quick dive by to say – “No, I haven’t shuffled off this mortal coil.” Nor have I shuffled off to Buffalo.
My brain is so scattered today. I opened the computer to post this – and ended up ordering 400 page dividers.

If you can figure that out… tell me. Please.
That was just a weird one.

So – here I am being random girl — when I have things to do.
Real things.

I’m agent hunting. This time I think I’m doing it in a better and more structured manner than last time. So – hey, I can be taught. Every day I’m attempting to put two well-crafted queries out into the void. Just two. And yes, even that is a stretch on some days when my brain is playing zippy-the-squirrel.

And if you’re interested – I’m thinking of doing something a little weird. Like that’s a surprise? But – it’ll be an experiment. Look for it to hit the ether – either today or tomorrow.

Ok. There seems to be a bit more focus in the tank now.
Onwards.

New Meme : Seen

There is so going to be an essay out of this one.
For the moment I’m going to have to leave you with this dashed off thought.

Just Don’t a new 100-word Essay: Truth

I like to think I am relatively ‘easy going’. I’ve had folks tell me that I was a pleasure to work with. Huzzah. And I like to think that not many things send me into a point of anger. Of course, that could just be the CPTSD and the fact that I have virtually no emotions talking. But, hey. It’s chill. I’m good. 

But then I meet folks who want to redefine my story of my life. They sit there and explain to me how my representation of my experience is ‘wrong’. Yeah. I ran into one of those recently. Oh… I really wanted to ‘rage post’, but my interior editor stopped me. Thank goodness for that titanium trap in my mind that usually keeps me from uttering something that might later be – ahem… unfortunate. 

So, instead, I sat down and wrote this 100-word essay. I hope you enjoy. 
And, just as a tip. When someone is divulging their truth to you, do not attempt to invalidate their experience in any way. It makes us grumpy.

It’s the Hap, Happiest Time… No. Pass.

You’ve seen it most likely. It makes the rounds every year, starting about now-ish. That question that floats around the internet about the movie that most represents your family Christmas.

People usually don’t understand why I pick “The Lion in Winter.”

Go, give it a watch if you have never seen it. The Burton/Hepburn version is my favorite, but I’ll admit that the Stewart/Close version also had some brilliant moments.

That is the film that most closely depicts my family in “The Holidays”. All of us crammed together on our best behaviour and underneath everyone seething. So many emotions all just under the surface. No one talking about them. Just playing out our roles until time to do it again.

One day, perhaps, I will be able to look at the “Holiday Season” without my teeth clenching. Until then, enjoy the movie.

No, I’m not Procrastinating

Or maybe I am. This is a common saying around my desk. It’s a riff on Hemingway’s famous quote

Write drunk, edit sober.

E. Hemingway

Why Bother?

We often ask ourselves ‘Why Bother?’ as we are healing. We ask it when we are hurting, or when the amount of work seems too much, or in those moments when we feel we are not ‘enough’ of what we want to be.

In those moments, remember, you are a light.

You may not feel like a big, bright light, but that doesn’t matter.

What matters is that healing from your past, helps someone find their way to their own healing journey.

As we heal we light the way not only for ourselves, but for others as well.

You’re telling me what?

Let me get this straight, I spent my childhood building all these defenses and now I’m gonna spend my adulthood undoing this fuckery. 

Continue reading “You’re telling me what?”

I can’t tell? Is this fear?

I suspect I should be feeling more. A curious gift of CPTSD is that when times are hard, when the world shakes, we carry on. After all, it’s just another day.

Continue reading “I can’t tell? Is this fear?”