KINDRED #90

I should know better than to make any public exclamations. It’s almost certain that something will go wrong. So allow me to amend, I hope to complete 10 posts by New Years, but writing has been hard recently. In everything, my health must come first. The spiritual injuries I experienced that I thought I had let go of came roaring up with a vengeance. While the accident was like emotional sand paper, what I’m feeling isn’t about that. It’s about the issues that were layers like sedimentary rock under pills and pot and stories I told myself about why I am the way I am and why I do the things I do. The time has come for me to truly deal with these issues before they dispatch me.

Whatever your trigger issue, deal with it as young and as fully as possible. Some meds help really well in the short run but they are addictive both phyisically and psychologicaly. When used over years, it begins to lose it’s potency. Besides I want to be able to be self-reliant in all respects; especially when it comes to stress and sleep. I tortured myself into ulcerative colitis, I have to stay as serene as possible or I could get sick again. I already have pain every single day to some degree.

I know that I’m strong, that’s obvious if I’ve now made it to almost 45, and while my life is hardly the streets of Calcutta, it can be a rough ride. My sleep is abnormal for so many reasons, it’s one of my biggest challenges. My nervous system has a hard time shutting down and my mind is constantly active. But none of that matters if I’m not fully present to enjoy it. Or constantly altered or possibly dead. Accidents happen very easily as I found out with my mom. One of the happy side effects of the meds, and pot is a medication, is that they screw with your short term memory sometimes. I stop and do the purse, phone, keys check unconsciously as I’m finding.

Thanksgiving week was a real challenge. I was hardly sleeping; some nights not at all. I don’t do well without sleep. That’s not a superpower I posses, as far as I know. Then my head will mess with me and random things will send me on a thought tangent. Weird. Plus, I’m usually aware of it happening so I do my meditation breathing and exercises until I’m frustrated by the lack of any lasting effect. It has to be connected to a fear deep inside of me. The irational fear that I’m not safe. So many events in my life have been like shark attacks. They come from out of nowhere and just pulverize you until a chunk is missing. Now while that sucks, it’s not happening now yet still freaks me out. There’s no need for me to feel it anymore. Besides, if and when I am in real trouble again, a clear, calm mind will help me while fear will just make it worse.

So what is the disconnect? I have the insight but am struggling to truly internalize it. Through the course of this process, I’ve seen a couple of therapists and psychiatrists because the graphic nature of the facts of foster care can be very jarring to the sensitive. Now I’m starting with new ones hoping they can teach me how to behavioral modify my habits that no longer serve my greatest good. I’m seeking out someone who specializes in EMDR, a form of therapy that uses eye movement for desensitization. It can’t hurt and if I’m commited to unblocking myself for good, I have to incorporate new techniques.

People are so judgemental. I admit I can be too but I really try not to be. So this is an excellent exercise in letting go of what others think. With no parents alive, that deep seeded need for approval is a hard drug to kick. It always makes me laugh when people make the assumption that I have my shit together. In some areas I do but honestly, none of us really do. Everybody has something they “deal” with. I’m constantly reminded of how image effects perception. My closest friends have always said that my looks work against me more than for me. Nobody should be judged by how they look. In my community, the women treat me terribly.

I’ve volunteered at school and on field trips and organized back to school rallies, hell I put together a memorial for a boy who comitted suicide that I didn’t even know just to help his family and I have never had relationships with any of their men despite the persistent attention and even offers of gifts and money. Yet I get excluded from invites to almost everything. It makes no sense. I’ve chosen to stop trying to understand and pitying the fact that grown adults would act like middle schoolers and how it’s their loss because despite my unique edges, I’m awesome and I’m genuine, I truly care about helping others.

I want to again thank our backers who got all of this rolling for us. What an incredible journey. It really means the world and there will be a finished product we can all be proud of. I don’t know what it will look like yet, but we will figure it out.

 

 

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