a memory

‘raukawa’ (a place i once lived) was a time i loved, un-interfered with, parenting, loving, & raising kids .. but it didn’t last forever .. i wish it could’ve been slightly different etc .. but, i had a goal, a purpose, and the kids were it. looking back i not only made the best of that situation, i enjoyed it. i loved it. and the memories of it i also love x


kpm©


 

remembering

let Me tell you what i remember.

. begging for a conversation; connection.

. crying when the babies got taken away.

. throwing dinner parties.

. shopping on wobbly legs.

. paying the backlog of rent.

. walking to work.

. waiting for hours.

. cowering.

. being throttled.

. sitting alone.

. being told to cover up.

. feeling ashamed.

. doing family events, alone.

. trying.

. trying harder.

let Me tell you what i remember.

. you playing X-box

. you banging on the windows.

. you picking fights.

. you bad mouthing Me to my children.

. you saying my hair looked awful.

. you telling Me to wear something less slutty.

. you leaving.

. you ignoring.

. you helping everyone but Me.

. you, and Me, in court.

. you kneeling.

. you dropping Me off.

. you chipping away at my confidence.

. you criticising absolutely everything about Me.

. you taking.

thats what i remember.


kpm©


Image

unfucking?

Today was a sicky, yucky fucked day health wise. I’m not sure whats going on but may actually warrant a trip to the doctors / hospital if it doesn’t settle. I even had trouble focusing and holding my hands steady to actually take a photograph! Not cool!

Anywho … on my hundredth trip to the bathroom, I passed the fridge … again. And this little beauty grabbed my attention.

Our fridge is covered with all the Mokos (grandchildren) drawings, and this drawing was done by Moko #2 when she was about 6. All these gorgeous little stick figures are part of our ‘family’; the 3 in focus are:

Blue – Moko #2

Orange – Koro (Grandfather … my partner)

Crimson – Me :)

I love how moko #2 feels in her family … safe and loved … and she has always drawn just that. I am always drawn / placed on the outside edge of their pictures and this used to offend Me until I realised Moko #2 seems to know I’m the Watcher … the Protector.

How mindful is this scene? I’m uncertain … but it means a hell of lot too Me.

Love and extra light today.

<3


kpm ©


 

the next part was my mauri.

I learnt from ‘365 reasons to smile’, that some shit takes time … that I’ve been conditioned a certain way, and all the talking in the world hasn’t changed the facts, and never will. But the slow, subtle chipping away at it and reconciling it technique … well, that’s working for me.

I’ve learnt that pts(d) is part of Me. It’s part of everything I am. Some of that’s good and some of thats … not so good .. so to speak. The bit that I really really don’t like is the panic attacks and the nightmares; and whilst they have minimised over the last couple of years, they are still ever looming. Both of these, I’d gladly kick in the asshole just to be rid of them completely.

I’ve got shit that I want to do this year … and every year thereafter –

  • Drive.
  • Go to my Art collective.
  • Go out for dinner and possibly get rotten drunk.
  • Go shopping for clothes – by myself.

They’re not huge things … but I actually want to do this shit without having to cringe every time I head out the door.

So here I am, at it again. And the intention, this time, is for Me to start to learn to appreciate who I am; who I really am. What it has taken Me to be Me. Where I’ve come from and what makes Me who I am.

Now this is a doo-zy for Me.

I realised part way through last year, that I don’t really understand the strength in Me, that has gotten Me this far. Oh, I get it; in increments … but I don’t really, really GET IT. And I think that if I got it, then I wouldn’t give myself such a hard time. The love, acceptance and encouragement that I have pumped into my kids and mokos over the years … yeah, well some of that needs to be pumped into Me.

So, this “who I really Am” thing; this essence thing … is called “Mauri”:

mauri
1. (noun) life principle, vital essence, special nature, a material symbol of a life principle, source of emotions – the essential quality and vitality of a being or entity. 

It is my hope, my attempt; that as I unfold and inspect who I am; my Mauri; I will be able to reconcile this element of Me.


kpm ©


 

the dreaded emdr…done

I had the session of EMDR yesterday, which I must say, I prepared pretty well for. It’s taken all day today though, to recover from my well-prepared-ness!

So, the shrink moves offices every week, and this week we were in a ‘child friendly’ zone; which I thought was pretty spooky actually. Lots of books and kids toys and affirmation cards…you know, “I am special”, “I am loved”, “I am safe”, type things. Gave me chills lol.

Anyway, I breathed through the first and worst…focusing on the memory…rating it from 1 to 10 on the disturbance scale…then we were off with the finger waving thing…which is rather disorientating and hard to focus on…but I breathed, and breathed.

This time, my head hurt like fuckery…the front and sides and after a couple rounds, the back of my head. Then my face, sinuses to be more specific; then my shoulder blades. Throughout the whole thing too, I had this horrible butterflies feeling throughout my tummy and chest. I didn’t like that. After about 20 minutes, I went numb and really, really tired.

I don’t really get it all…in theory I sort of get it…we’re replicating sleep, dreaming and the processing that happens. I get too, that the body holds onto memory, or trauma, even long after the event has been and gone. But this…the finger waving, non talking, headachy shit that happens…I don’t really get it.

What I do know though, is that because I don’t get it, it’ll probably work. I have this fucked up sense of trying to make sense out of everything I come across. And I’ve probably worked myself into this state of having to ‘get it’ before I participate in it, so much so, that I don’t participate in anything. And I’ve gotten so bundled up with anxiety and fear that I’ve gotten to the point where I’ll try virtually anything just to get some relief…well I’m sure there’s some shit I wouldn’t try…

But, when we finished this session I felt like I’d been run over by a train. And we haven’t finished processing this one completely apparently. The shrinks gonna come out to me next week…It’s gonna be a busy week.

I went and hung out with my youngest daughter and moko after the shrink …that was cool. They’re both beautiful for the wairua (spirit). I tried to have a nap but that didn’t work…moko wanted to ‘chat’ ;).

So, another sesh down. ..and I survived 😉


kpm ©


 

SaveSave

emdr follow up and exposure therapy

We were booked in for another round of good old emdr today. It was supposed to be the 2nd half of the last session; as that one was painful and apparently not quite ‘complete’.

I prepped myself this time!

And what do you know…we didn’t do it! Instead the shrink decided to try a bit of exposure therapy instead. Yah.

So the reasoning for not completing the emdr was the state my mind is in at the moment. And here I was thinking I was not in a too shabby state!

Second reason was this…

Because of the particular memory, and what we have been ‘tackling’ as the crux of it – lack of control…we did a little re hash and came up with ‘another’, possibly more accurate, crux.

We’d been looking at this as me being out of control of the situation. The shrink had said previously that to get a handle on being in control, I needed to focus on what I could, or could have controlled. Me.

Now I had beef with that…because how much control does a 3-year-old have, really? And do they even understand the entire concept of control or controlling themselves. I don’t think so.

I get that in certain situations, I only have control of me; my attitude, perception etc of what is going on around me or to me. But pretending I was in some way ‘in control’ of me or the situation, is shit, to say the least.

So, new theory…its not so much about being in control…its more about what the lack of control, or how the lack of control was perceived…then…and how it reflects or is interpreted…now.

When I am in a situation that makes me feel trapped, I start to panic. As we unpacked that thought process, we came upon the awesome realisation that ‘being trapped’, or having the perception of being trapped, somehow makes me feel like I am a sitting target…vulnerable.

And its the vulnerability that scares the living shit out of me. That’s what sets me into a panic. And all I want to do…all I say to myself…is…I want to get out!

Out…is anywhere but here and now in whatever situation is giving me discomfort.

It can be at the traffic lights…the front seat of the car…the toilet…new surroundings…a surprise…

Anything that makes me feel like I don’t have an option…or a have to wait for something.

I feel like a sitting duck!

And it is THAT feeling that we will tackle with exuberant enthusiasm, next time!

Oh great.

But the exposure therapy…was good.

I drove the car…with the shrink in the front seat lol. Breathing and breathing. I did good :), and she did more breathing than me I think.


kpm©