Monthly Archives: December 2013

Happy New Year’s Eve Day!

(did that make sense?)

So, I’m not going to do a re-cap or anything… 2013 had its ups and downs, and now it’s over.  Good.

2014 will be better.  Growth is happening, change is always happening.  It has to get better.

Today is being spent no different from any other day.  L has to work tomorrow (early – 5am), so we won’t be doing much tonight.  I’m ok with that.  I outgrew partying a few years ago.  I’m sure I will be up with my insomnia, but I don’t think I will be worrying about the clock hitting midnight.

No flashbacks yet today, so it’s a good day.  I’m hoping tomorrow will follow the way today has gone so the year will start off on the right foot.  I need it to go well.  I need to get past all this trauma crap, and resume living my life as a productive member of society.  I’m so over being the “crazy wife”…

Anyway, happy new year all.  Hope it’s a good one.


had some trouble with some flashbacks earlier today.  got through them ok, but they triggered a stirring in my head also.  still don’t have a clear picture about what was disturbed, but some of the monsters have been roused from their slumber.  they are starting to shift and awaken. not sure I want them awake. don’t know how to get them tucked in all nice again.  trying to get through some of it with art. not really getting anywhere with that.  don’t have coherent words or phrases to explain them.  can’t put pictures to any of it.  just sensations right now, moving, shifting, causing sparks. waking more monsters, but they’re slow to rise this time… really wish I had more talent to put them to pictures.  wish there were words with which to speak of them. wish De was back so maybe some of it could be understood.  teetering on the question of whether to reach out or just sit tight.  thinking sitting tight will work still, it’s not bad enough (or even threatening to be that bad any time soon) to warrant disturbing others.  just going to hold on.

wishing I was different.  wishing there was better communication between what’s buried and what’s conscious.  and things going scream in the night do not help at all.  finally started sleeping last night.  dreams made it feel like awake time.  can’t seem to get enough sleep to make up for what was lost over the last few weeks.  but at the same time, there’s fear of sleeping because the dreams are so compelling.  just want to get rest.  want to actually feel rested.

graphic pictures floating around when they do come.  not sure anyone should know the details of them.  would put them on paper, but they’re scary to others.  wishing there was metaphor to be used.  nothing’s come yet.  just those really graphic images. don’t want to have to explain them.  don’t want to have to show them.  so they stay inside.

really craving hurt again.  thoughts fluctuate between thoughts and cravings.  desire to be hurt because it’s what’s right.  know it’s mixed up signals. can hear De’s voice explaining it.  doesn’t change the desire.  wish there was relief without action first.  dunno.  holding out because it’s what’s supposed to be done.  really just want to hide away in art.  wish it would happen already.  so many topics to express, so little by way of expression…

When The Truth Comes Out The Demons Will Play- Pt. 1

wow, very powerful, especially the last paragraph…
“I’ve heard that some people have tried to put themselves in my shoes but you really can’t. Most people I know don’t wake up everyday wishing they had stopped breathing over night. Most people don’t look at their body and see scars of past pain or red lines from the present. Most people don’t go through the world looking at the ground, afraid that they’ll be seen. Most people don’t know what its like to not feel, to know something is wrong but not be able to describe it. You don’t feel happy, you don’t feel sad. I don’t even like using the word numb. That word still doesn’t describe the feeling. The feeling of just nothing. You’re not calm, you’re not stressed, you’re angry but you’re not happy, you can’t cry but you can’t smile, you can’t move but, well, you can’t move. When this happens, your body isn’t yours anymore. Your body belongs to depression.”

a neither-world

I hit a void of feeling.  It’s not numb, because I would describe numb as knowing there’s feeling behind a wall, but I have no access to it.  This is different.  I am not aware of any emotion even in the background.  I feel flat.  It’s not a depressed flat, but literally a flat, emotionless feeling.  I’m not happy, I’m not sad, I’m not depressed, I’m not frustrated.  It just feels like cotton has replaced my brain… I dislike this a lot.  It’s triggering self-harm thoughts because I at least know what to do with blood.  (I’m not going to follow through on the thoughts, but they are there).  And I don’t really want to do anything.  I would say it’s a restless feeling, but even that is not quite right.  Restless also implies some sort of emotion or drive behind it.  This has nothing.  I’m just not interested in anything at all.  Nothing holds my attention.  Nothing is compelling enough to do.  De had asked me to work on some art stuff and expression for the weeks she was gone.  I can’t even do that.  There’s no connection to anything I would want to express.  We went to the Japanese gardens yesterday.  I had taken my camera, but nothing struck me as photo-worthy.  I deleted most of the pictures I took, and am not all that impressed with any of the ones that are left.  I have yet to really use the colored pencils L gave me for Christmas.  There’s just nothing to draw or color that brings about anything other than boredom and a desire to walk away from it all.  I start out hoping to paint or sculpt, but I end up sitting at things just staring.

I hate this disconnect.  Art doesn’t bring relief, nor does nature or the animals.  I’m at a loss.  And De is not back till the end of next week…

My head is numb. Thoughts are not forming. It feels like cotton is the only thing filling the cavity where by brain should be. I want to be creative, but nothing comes. I want to pay attention to anything, but I can’t get past the “cotton”… and I’m cranky. I’m not sure why, but it’s here. It hit hard and fast. I really dislike all of this. And I wish I knew what was going on. Is this the benadryl after-effects? Is it my lack of sleep catching up to me? Ugh.

I love the way this guy writes…

I may be a bit biased (and would love to have him as my individual T), but I really like the way he explains things… Check out Becoming Superman and Dr. Doyle’s latest blog entry on flashbacks.

These things can be scary. In addition to the fact that they seem to come out of nowhere, sometimes with very little rhyme or reason, they also seem to take advantage of every sense modality in our brains in order to recreate those old experiences as vividly as possible. It’s not just that you’re “thinking about” or “remembering” something from the past; it’s like you’ve been thrown into a 3D IMAX theater with THX surround sound, and they’re pumping in the proper scents and odors through the ventilation system, and they’ve also hijacked every nerve in your body so you actually feel the experience in your muscles and on your skin. Oh, and you feel like you’re fucking strapped into your seat. There’s that.
It’s not always exactly like that, of course. Just like any symptom, there’s a spectrum of intensity to flashbacks. But flashbacks have an added dimension that make them extra special and fun: there are times we may not even know we’re experiencing a flashback until, you know, we’re curled up in a little ball, either emotionally or physically. A flashback is often not like a sneeze, where it immediately, obviously interrupts what you’re doing. It can creep up on you, begin in your gut, or in your visual cortex, or in your limbic system. By the time we realize we’re disconnected from the present (a symptom we psychology types call “dissociation,” because we’ve temporarily lost our clear connection or association to the people, things, and context around us), we’re sometimes so far down the rabbit hole that we don’t immediately remember how to think our way out.
And good luck explaining all of the above to someone who’s never had flashbacks, of course. “It’s just a memory! It’s in the past! Why are you so upset about it?” Yeah. Kiss my ass.
He thinks a lot like I do, but explains so much better than I ever could!

I admitted something I never expected…

… and it’s not what you may think: I told my wife that I had actually seriously considered giving up our little dog on more than one occasion.  The people who know me in real life would know how incredibly out of character this admission is, but the rest of you may not quite get the full impact.  My animals are my children, and my dogs are held highest of all of them.  My little dog (we shall call him “Fred” to protect his real identity) is joined at the hip to my lab.  He would not know how to survive without her (he is a totally different dog when he is separated from her, shaking and moping even when it’s just for a few hours).  When he’s near her though, he is a little punk.  He has been known to kill cats, and will try for the kill any chance he gets.  We had managed to get that under a measure of control a while ago, but he’s back to his antics again (totally our fault).  Recently, out large male cat has decided to move in with a couple at the other end of the neighborhood.  We think this is because a few weeks ago, Fred managed to slip between my legs and chase the cat, most likely cornering him and hurting him in some way.  After that incident, the cat refused to return to the house.  Today, we had to go pick him up after the couple trapped him in their garage.  I feel bad for him (and our other cats).  They are social.  They miss spending time with us.  They miss the cuddles, and so do I.  I really love Fred, but he’s such a pain in the butt.  I won’t actually move to give him up (I would also be forced to give up the lab who happens to be my favorite dog), but I just need to remind myself that consistency matters a lot, especially with Fred.  There are some dogs you can be more lax with, but then there are the ones that will become a menace if allowed to take any hint of leadership.  Sadly, we give Fred a lot of room to walk all over us.  I need to remember what my trainer friend told me and keep him on a short leash (figuratively).

Knowing that I admitted out loud that I have considered re-homing Fred has messed with my head a bit.  Like I said, my dogs are my kids.  To seriously think of giving one up has only ever been admitted when I was suicidal.  I have moved more times than I can count to be able to keep my pets.  I have bent over backwards and given up a lot to have them in my life.  To know I actually thought of re-homing that little punk because he upsets the rest of the family dynamic has my head spinning…There’s a voice in my head screaming at me; telling me I’m worthless and useless and I just don’t care.  There’s judgement beyond belief for even having the thoughts.  There’s fear and resentment, and there’s anger.  The anger comes not only from what other people think of all the animals, but also from my changing attitudes.  They still fill a void, but I’m finding that they also create a whole lot of drama.  My depression makes it hard to motivate to do anything beyond the basics for them.  They are going stir-crazy, and we are all slacking on the training (especially for the puppy).  I find myself becoming angry at them for misbehaving when it’s all my fault for not being consistent and giving them what they need.  I’m turning more and more into my father, and I hate myself for it…

I look around myself and see all this material crap that I really don’t want anymore.  It feels like all of this is weighing me/us down.  I wish I didn’t waste money on a lot of this crap.  I wish I didn’t have piles and piles of “junk” lying around… I wish I had motivation to take care of things.  And I wish I knew how to remember to save money.  The animals need more flea stuff, and they need to get out of the house.  If I had the money, I would have gotten the puppy training also.  There are a bunch of behaviors I just don’t know how to tackle anymore, nor do I have the energy to try.  The same with Fred.  And I hate myself a lot.  I know I made this commitment to them, but I’m not following through…  I know the steps to take for some of it, but the energy and motivation disappear quickly.  The more I fall into the cycle of wanting to do things but failing, then being hard on myself for it, the more I just feel like crap about everything. I start spiraling down a litany of things that I see wrong with myself: my weight, my social life, my motivation, my lack of working, my self-worth, my worth to others… De is right that I get trapped in my thinking and it just makes everything worse.  But then there’s that tiny voice in my head that whispers possible solutions… Maybe it’s time to start with baby steps to fix things…