ding.

my hearing is changing.

weird.


kpm©


 

Image

detach

 

Question:

does the detach-ed,

know they’re

detached?

or is it the observers

pointing it out,

due to their own discomfort feels;

and so they can regain comfort

and preferably, control –

in the hopes the detached

thusly becomes present,

and the discomfort-ed can then

point out the discomfort they have felt

to the unpresent and detached,

who are now present, un-detached and miserable.

?

Why can’t they get their own comfort space and fuck off and leave us to ours.


kpm ©


 

my challenge : the explanation

I’ve had lots of moments and memories in the last week or two. I seem to lose them as fast as I have them though. That’s whats partially led me to the following personal challenge…

I’ve decided to take a journey through my life….to retain and document my memory of me; to open up and then lay to rest what I need too.

Its not that I haven’t worked on me at all. I’ve done lots of talking, writing, research, soul searching, trial and era, meds, no meds, natural remedies, ‘alternative healing’, councelling, psychologists, education, focusing, meditating, breathing, CBT, tapping, diets, no diets, change in eating….the list goes on. Its all part of my discovery of who I am, what I am. And I guess this is just another part of that.

At my last ‘assessment’ I was told by the well meaning, reasonably pleasant psychiatrist, that my recollection of timelines, dates and events all revolve around my children’s life moments. Not a bad thing. But I have come to realise I’ve had my identity so wrapped up in them, I’ve hidden in it. I’ve forgotten who I am. And forgotten to develop me. I have a lot of difficulty remembering what I’ve done or who I am outside of them.

My children are my defining moments in life. They are why I’m still in the land of the living. They’ve always had my heart, not always my presence or emotion.

My survival has depended on being logical; clear cut; cold and simple. Living in ‘hypo arousal’ made this my normal. And even if you tag all the psychological titles to certain behaviours, its still my normal. I’ve tried to eradicate these behaviours, but they are part of my make up; my survival; they are who I am, with or without PTSD. They are my normal. Therefore I’ve tended to make logical decisions at times when I possibly needed to use my heart. My emotions? They are definitely unexercised and underutilised muscles that I am trying hard to get into shape.

What I do is, make a decision based on what information I have at hand and in its historical context. I analyse the possible outcomes of the decisions I need to make; eliminating the high risk and reducing the risk on the other possibilities. Decision made.

I do this system for just about everything I do. First I desensitise myself by repeating the thought or decision. Similar to playing a song over and over again….the first time may make you cry or laugh or something, because it touches something in your soul.  By the 50th time, you can just hear words. Hear it again in 2 years time and you will remember the feeling that it brought about but it won’t rock you like it did it at the start…well that’s the case for me anyways.  Sheer brilliance I thought! Shame it hasn’t worked instantly on ‘fixing’ PTSD…go figure!

But I have done/still do this for everything. I even have difficulty writing a blog – my personal cathartic vent vehicle! Dah! I have trouble unfolding. I edit, re edit, delete, clean it out, change it round. I simplify and throw parts out. I do the same thing in my home! Yes, I am a self confessed clean freak! I love white walls and clear spaces…minimal, minimal, minimal…funny though, that used to be called poverty, now its a thing!

Soooo, on this new challenge for myself…part of it will be, to NOT edit, NOT delete or eradicate what I write. NOT analyse and reanalyse what I think, reword and rehash. I will document (the word document makes me feel safe lol), my ramble and leave it alone. Well I may still organise it into categories…and then leave it the fuck alone…for a certain period of time anyway! Till I’m finished…yeah till I’m finished. Ohhh I feel anxious already lol!

I’ve always considered myself to be open and transparent, but somewhere along my path I think I started to fool myself into believing my own bullshit. The truth is…I WAS open and transparent, as open and transparent with what I knew at the time. Then there came a time when I decided to ‘leave it be’. Which in itself sounds healthy, but I haven’t really let it be at all. I’ve forgotten on purpose because it no longer seemed viable. And with the help of some serious sleep medication, I’ve lost my ‘mind’ and memories along with it.

As I’ve mentioned before, I have never slept well. Well never slept as the ‘professionals’ say is ‘well’. And after a few hard out years I opted for meds so I could get some sleep! Some long, good, well needed sleep! Ahhh. Im now going through the agony of weaning off the ‘dependency making’ pills, without more dependency making pills! Turns out I should have only been taking them for 3-6 months, not 5+ years! – which, I might add, the doctor failed to mention, but google had all the info on!

This leads to the second part of why I need to do this. I was challenged after reading a fellow bloggers piece on her and her daughter. I realised I had cut my children, and my gender, out of my personal recollections to others; and myself. Partially to protect them, partially out of guilt. Partially for my own protection, partially because I hated being a woman. My children are my heart; but therefore my weakness; my Achilles heel so to speak. I need to recollect all parts, not just what’s comfortable and non-emotional.

In all of this, I’ve got to be myself. Evolve into the me I want to be. To accept who I am, in its entirety.

So for the next while, week by week, representing year by year; I will be documenting ME ;)

#mystory


kpm ©


 

emotion?

Why do emotion? What purpose does it even serve? Numb is nothing. Its calm, its complete. Its functional and makes sense. Emotion…I don’t get it.


kpm ©