Simply

Just another manic Monday


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When I start to pace…

***I wrote this on December 11th, 2016. I’m going to post it as is, I won’t add to it.***

I keep pacing the floors of our house, repeating the same thing over and over and over again. I’m anxious, unfocused and can’t sit still. I’ve looked in our fridge over 10 times in the last 20 minutes. The contents don’t change, they stay the same. But my mind tells me that I haven’t done that yet and so I remember I’ve looked in the fridge as I’m standing looking into the fridge. 

Most times when I get like that I force myself to sit down and do mindless tasks. But even that seems like too much. I’ve closed and reopened the same app at least 20 times in the last 10 minutes. And now here I am going through my blog, reading old posts and remembering what was happening to me at this time last year or even the year before. 

I think I’ve done the November blog post a day the last couple of years. I signed up for it this year and because of where I was mentally and physically I just opted not to write on the blog. I spent countless hours writing but saving it on my phone, uploading it or writing it with pen and paper. It’s always interesting when I’m done writing to see how many pages of paper I’ve filled.


The last one I did was 19 pages front and back. It was me writing out how the last session with my counselor would go, what my responses would be and what I wanted to talk about. I can laugh about that now… it never goes as planned, as the way I have it written down and hoped it would go. 

When I got to my session, I looked at her and literally pulled out my stack of 19 pages and said this is the conversation I had with you last night. It went great and I think we figured out a lot… but things never go as planned do they?! And then we chuckled, me more because I was irritated that I was about to cry and I felt so incredibly bare. I.Love.Control. Anyway I can have it I take it. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart, of my past and the such. I need to be able to control that part of me. And she (meaning me) just doesn’t like to listen to reason. So I end up feeling small and alone and vulnerable. I don’t like that. 

Anyway…
Namaste my friends,

I

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It is not…

Whatever it was… it is not. 


I’m hovering between panic attacks currently. I’m mostly okay with that, but mostly just not. Only in the last 10 years or so have I been having them, for a while they stayed dormant. I liked that stage. The quiet of not having to pay close attention to or watch my every word. 

They’ve been intermittent for the past two years, me mainly ignoring them and the issues that come along with them. I’ve been somewhat forced to start dealing with them since December, mostly because they started a pattern. I don’t like patterns when it comes to those types of things. 


In January I made a conscious outloud decision to deal with the panic attacks and the real reason behind them. It wasn’t a light decision. I started out with just saying I was going to seek out and find an affordable counselor. That was handled by me finding SafePlace. I’m glad I started there, though the journey since has been incredibly intense and annoying and interesting. I am happy that was my first step. 

My next verbal step was 30 days of yoga and meditation. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but let me tell you… those 30 days were long, intense, educational, life altering, interesting most days just downright comical. I only say that because how else does one laugh off their own fears and insecurities?!


I believe by day 10, I was FOR ABSOLUTELY SURE that I had lost all of the marbles I had in my head. Some days I still wonder if I got any of them back. I can’t explain to you what sitting still is like. But give it a try. Sit with yourself, no distractions, no music, no phones, nothing. Just sit for 5 minutes everyday for one week all by yourself, with nobody but you and your thoughts. If you keep an open mind you can learn so much about yourself. Yoga is similar in that way as well. I’ve been told the poses that are the hardest for you tell a lot about you and how you deal with things when life gets hard. I can atest to that 100%. There are some poses I refuse to do, just because I know what my reaction will be and I am not ready to deal with it or myself. Yoga is an extension of meditation. Another way to quiet the mind if done fully and correctly. Let’s just say I’ve had several panic attacks and crying on my mat… in a studio setting… not my cup of tea, but I was caught off guard and so there I sat paralyzed to my spot fighting through the emotions that came up. When I’m off, I try not to go to a studio. I don’t like dealing with my intense emotions out in public. You know being all vulnerable and shit…

Here’s my biggest fears when it comes to the panic attacks I have… my biggest fears are not being able to function as an adult, as a parent, as a spouse, as anything that has to deal with the many hats I wear. I fear not being able to drive myself where I need to go, I fear not being able to control the attacks, I fear being placed on a meditation to help. I fear having panic attacks on a consistent basis like I’ve been having over the last week. My biggest fear with that also, that I am not given a warning sign anymore when they will start. They just start. I have come to realize that is not okay.

I had several panic attacks in session today, thought I was good to go by the end of session. Got in my car to drive home, ended up having to sit in my car for almost two hours until I was okay enough to get home. That alone freaked me out and I panicked even more. Let me tell you, being gripped by fear sucks ass. 


Having my life controlled (sometimes) by fear is not okay to be. It leaves me frustrated and angry. And with the overall feeling of this isn’t FAIR! Why, why, why, why…?! You know all of the WHY questions victims and survivors have. I won’t name them. 

I was asked what would it be like to really sit with that frustration and express it in any form that my body needed to. 

I.Refused.

I suppressed it, it felt horrible pushing it back down, stuffing it in a box on a high shelf. I didn’t close the door on it, I wanted to so bad. But I couldn’t. But I did refuse to express it. I let a handful of tears fall down my face, I took some deliberate deep breaths and I gathered myself all the way together. That my friends is not how to handle the situation. Don’t do what I did. Maybe next time I will scream, kick, thrash about and cry. Or maybe just maybe, I might hold my composure, let a few tears fall and suck it up. Because friends, that’s been my life. No time, space or energy to be sad and angry and upset. I always had to find a way to make it work, otherwise my struggle thus far was for not.

I’m hoping I will one day be able to feel safe enough to just express what I’m feeling. For now, I will sit with my panic attacks, sip my mason jar full of wine (because, you know a way to numb the pain away) and take pretty pictures.


That I am good at… 

whatever it is… it is not.


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Seconds turn into minutes…

Seconds turn into minutes turn into hours and time continues on… tonight it continues on as I lay awake trying to figure out what is holding me hostage. 

My body is gripped with tension and anxiety and uncertainty. 

I’m unwillingly being dragged along in the wave of emotions that keep crashing against the shell of my mind. 

I’m not sure if I should cry, scream, laugh, throw up or just be. I’m feeling like I should do all of them at the same exact moment. And then once I’ve done that do it again but this time faster and full of gusto. 

My body is ignited with energy, but my brain is sluggish with exhaustion. Who will win this battle tonight? 

If I allow all of it, what happens once I reach the shore? Will I find myself standing on the beach front looking out into a vast sea of nothing and no one? Will I find myself smack in the middle of a party full of people and not seen nor heard?

It’s the unknown, my inability to control what is going to happen next. I want to be able to have a plan in place for the next steps, I’m a planner. I can’t plan how to handle a complete melt down if I don’t see it coming. I need to have a list of what each step looks like…

1. Find a counselor and talk

2. Cry on cue

3. Laugh to avoid the hurt

4. Remove touch

5. Skim the surface of that issue

6. Avoid the conversation by not answering the question

7. Push the easy button

8. Panic and fall apart

9. Stare at yourself in the mirror confused

10. Ask how did you end up HERE

11. Realize boxes are falling all around you

12. Sleep becomes elusive

13. Never ask for help

14. You’ve done it… You’re cured!

15. Realize that you’ve screwed yourself 

16. Commence to freak out AGAIN

I’m standing here… trying to ask for help but not sure where to go to get it. I know that sounds so incredibly crazy, I have a therapist. But… what do I say to her? What questions do I ask? What prescribed list of answers do I give her to the questions she asks? How do I navigate this minefield of boxes and bombs that threaten to go off at any turn. I feel so lost, tired, exhausted, unsure and uncertain. 


I feel so incredibly vulnerable and it is giving me panic attacks. I called, because the number is there. And had to leave a message… 

“Hi, this is Iiona…I don’t even know why I called, but I did. Feel free to call me back if you have a moment. Bye…” 

I hung up the phone and instantly regretted the need to have to call someone. And then I regretted placing the phone call and actually leaving the message. And then I regretted remembering all of the times I needed help or an ear to bend and I had no one there but myself and how it felt like I was in a room full of 1000 people and I was all alone. And then I regretted the thought that I even needed anyone to make it through, because… I’m 36 and I’ve survived this long alone. What’s another couple of minutes. 

The feelings will pass, the anxiety will subside, I will remember LOVE and life will be easy for a little…. Until the next box falls off of the shelf and I’m trying to figure out how to navigate all of the things that fell out of that box. 

Seconds turn into minutes turn into hours and time continues on… tonight it continues on as I lay awake trying to figure out what is holding me hostage. 
Goodnight!


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I think…

It is only 6:15pm and I feel as if I’ve already gone through two days since 11:30am. I am tired and only wanting to shut the world and all of its stimulus out my going to sleep. But, life…

The youngest is with dad at gymnastics, the middle one is at the park with friends. And the oldest one is cooking us dinner, because I just couldn’t. Luckily there is freezer food and pasta to get us through the night. 

I am beyond exhausted, but have a laundry list of things that need to happen and keep piling up. I want to turn everything down, curl up on my bed & just stay there. But, life…

So I turn on my music that soothes and I start knocking shit off my list. Small at first, I can only focus on small. Nothing too intensive or that requires a lot of brain power. Because my brain is mush. 

I had an exceptionally hard therapy session today. I thought about just telling her I was completely happy with where I was at and that I think I’m done with therapy. But then I would of had to tell her that through the barrage of tears that refused to stop coming and as I dry heaved because I became physically sick to my stomach. This shit is fucking hard as fuck. I need to cuss to emphasis my point of how fucking hard this shit is. Like fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck…

Anyways, since then I’ve been combating feeling sick, feeling anxious, feeling overwhelmed. I’ve been dealing with some awesome sensations rolling in and out of my body at different times. It, All of it, can be so draining. I guess I would rather be drained because I purposefully took a box off of the shelf and started to deal with it vs trying to shove everything back into the box as it fell off of the shelf. 


I took a short nap, I need like 20 more of those. Bedtime will be sweet serenity… As long as the dreams stay at bay and insomnia doesn’t kick in. I figure if I drink some wine before going to bed I won’t be able to do anything but sleep.

Anyways, I’m praying for myself and sending positive vibes to my bed. There is where I will fight the most, dreams…

Well here’s a good thing so it’s not all poor me and I want to wallow in self pity as I go through dealing with being sexually abused. I’m an ass, I just realized that. 


But anyways, it’s Tuesday. There is a school dance on Friday and the twins (that used to live with us) have their second birthday party on Sunday! I’m excited, they are so sweet. Plus, I get to play with two of them tomorrow for a few hours. 😊

Namaste, I


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Life is Interesting.

My heart is ready for love and to be loved… Leela James

It’s so interesting… Yesterday during counseling I realized something. It sucked and it hurt and I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with what I had learned. 

And so I kept it to myself, I didn’t tell my counselor, my husband or even my friend. It hurt too much to even acknowledge it. It cut through to the essence of why I am where I am. But I was trying so hard not to take it in and believe the stories that I spun about it. 

If you haven’t realized I’m an excellent story teller. I’m a freaking skilled master at that shit. It sucks, because the stories that I’m telling don’t feel like they should even be true. But I feel like they are 100% all of who I am. 

Anyways, before I venture down a path I can’t see myself coming back from. 

I went to group tonight. I love every single one of those ladies. I wish I could package them up and carry them around in my pocket all day. They are so helpful and they remind me that I am not alone. 

That even though I’ve been crying and super emotional lately, it’s ok. I have that right and I should use it all. Because dammit, they’re my feelings and I can cry if want to. Doesn’t mean I want to cry, lol!

It was nice to know I wasn’t the only emotional wreck so far this week. It helped to have one of the women say, I’m so happy I’m not the only one doing something that gives me panic attacks. And we laughed together, because only someone whose been through it can understand. She hates group, I can deal with it. I hate individual counseling and she loves it, lol! Go freaking figure!

  

Anyways, this picture is my interpretation of my intention for the week… To breathe…

To be fully present with the things I’m going through and dealing with. I noticed myself not breathing so well today during group. Someone was recounting their history and it resonated and it caught my breath. 

This was supposed to be short and sweet & here I am 50-11 words later. I’m tired and going to bed!

Thanks for reading… Love and Light my friend!