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many.many.thoughts. the good, bad & ugly.

This is a massive #throwback … I definitely had a lot to say Dec 6, 2015 @ 00:55!

And as I re-read through this, I remembered the claustrophobic, intense feelings that came with this time. Fuck that shit … I am so freaking glad shit don’t really feel like this anymore … in these areas I have slowly learnt to juggle that shit alot better!!!


Its been a hell of a long week…standard 7 days sure, but they felt like 14+! And if it wasn’t for the little date thingy on my screen, I’m not sure I’d actually, definitively know what the day and date was!

There’s been some awesome moments…and I hold onto those by my ultra long fingernails because they are what make this hellish feeling silently bearable.

So I’ll start with those moments…the good…

We looked after the mokos for the night…ahhh the other day I think. It was intense! Lovely intense; but I’m so past having a 2-year-old running around and a 6-year-old asking questions constantly lol. Don’t get me wrong, they were such a pleasure. I’m just…getting old lol. We were both absolutely wrecked by the time the next day rolled around, and when we finally got home, we hung out the washing and then collapsed in a small heap and slept for about 3 hours! OMG, I’m so soft now. I have a new-found appreciation for my daughter and her partner and their 3 beautiful children!

So, on this night, my daughter and her partner came home from their well deserved dining experience and my girl was slightly tipsy…and she started talking. We haven’t talked, talked, for along time…child restraints, time, distance etc etc. It was so nice…nice to hear her heart again. Shes my girl who has that great big heart; the deep deep soul. I heard her aches and her triumphs and the things she’s struggling with and wishes for. I heard her regrets and questions and ambitions and longings. I haven’t had the privilege of that for a long while now.

She talked about the things from her childhood that had hurt her. Things that I remembered but had a different perspective on. I got to tell her how I felt too. And she actually said, “You know; you’re a good Mum”. That was the best coming from her! I love her to bits…shes just an amazing soul…

Well we stayed up and talked like that for about 5 hours! It felt like when she was a little girl…we’d talk for hours! It’s how I got to know her :)

Her older daughter is also a deep wee soul. She has my sense, and her mamas sense, of the ‘unseen’…intuition, but with the senses. She has an intense sense of smell and can smell where you have been, what you ‘feel’ like, whats bothering you. But this little darling isn’t all hung up on what others think of her gift yet…it just is what it is, and she just rolls with it. It’s so nice to watch her, uninhibited.

Anyway, she had a game of hockey that she wanted me to go too. I said I couldn’t, and she started to cry. I felt bad but I knew I still couldn’t go. Then she stops crying and looks at me, and asks; “Why can’t you come?”…so I told her…”There’s to many people there for me darling, and I get scared. When I’m not scared, I’ll come to one of your games.”….Ohhh, she says…beautiful girl; just like she all of a sudden got it. Then she says to me, “and you can’t bring your pillow and blanky to the game ay”…no, sweetheart, I can’t…

She’s such a beautiful soul. All the mokos are. They have a deep sense, in differing ways, of understanding who and what is going on around them. And as long as you answer their questions brutally honestly, they are able to process all that is happening…the seen and the unseen. I don’t mean ‘ghostly’ unseen…but the vibes, body language, emotion; that is exuded by those around them. They are miles ahead of me, and their parents…all of humanity really. And it’s so beautiful to see.

It’s that subject that got me and my girl talking again later…about how each generation thinks they have a monopoly on ‘being right’; that they have all the answers to the previous generations mistakes and instead of learning from them, they are on a mission to rectify and rub their noses in it. We agreed that this is utter shit and there was a need to be able to transition from one ‘generation’ or era to the next, leaving behind what you need to, giving or passing on what you need to, and getting on with the present. Easier said than done…but a beautiful concept that we are all going to try.

xx


It’s fucken intense times here.

You see…as much as shit frightens me or I panic or have a miniature nervous break down…I know that I know that I know, that there is no rolling over and dying…I can’t…it’s just not in my DNA. I may freak the fuck out etc but I will, will, will get back up and kick your ass eventually. ~ present situation has been a longer ‘pause’ or ‘eventually’ moment than most…but it is still just an interlude ~

And the partner…well he deals with things a little different from I. I find that hard to deal with. I can see that he’s scared and feeling stressed and vulnerable…but he won’t talk…in fact he’s being a bit of a cunt actually. I’m trying to be supportive and helpful and blending-ish (I know what I mean lol)…but he’s angry one minute, sore and sad the next, pissed off then quiet. He’s doing his thing, processing…I get it…It’s just really really really hard to watch!

And the conversations we have include blame laying in my direction…I get this defence mechanism too…but really? Gonna shit on the only person that genuinely gives a shit?? Hmmm. Not cool.

And I wonder how long I’ll put up with being the brunt of the frustration and anxiety? Not too much longer…

I wish I could wave a magic wand and make every bad thing go away…


AND then I went to see the shrink – (who by the way, I called ‘the shrink’ in her office, and she was slightly offended lol…she said she isn’t a psychiatrist…to which I said, ‘so what? Shrink is easier to say than ‘the psychologist’…she got it. BTW, she is a forensic psychologist which I think is rather cool lol)….so back to the shrink…It was really hard to get in to her this time. I had about 3 size 5 panic attacks on the way there and so by the time I hit her office I was a bit of a quivering mess. But I did it! There’s that! We did the breather thingy…and talked a bit. Turns out all the things that are happening with the partner are weighing heavier on the mind and body than I thought. I’m not sleeping very well…6 hours has dropped back to 2…and I can feel my heart beating most of the time and it takes all my energy and concentration to try to relax my shoulders. So I breathed and breathed and rebooked my next appointment.

The next appointment is EMDR, – first and worst memory. Apparently they’re usually separate…but mine are one in the same. I have no recollection of some things, I only know they happen because of what has been pieced together from other people’s versions of events. I only remember one incident…I’m not sure of my age, and I’m not sure whether I’ve actually meshed about 3 incidences together as one. Either way, I have no interest anymore, in trying to ‘remember’ more. I figure if my ‘being’ could deal with it then it would remember…what I do remember is way more than enough.

Needless to say I’m not really looking forward to the next session. I said to the shrink…that I don’t mind talking about this sort of shit, I know its necessary and I’m willing…very willing…however, it’s easier to talk about what causes panic or nightmares etc and how to deal with those…that feels like I’m talking about the 2nd cousin of it, twice removed…she got it. But when we start talking or referring to the actual event…my insides start to shake and then they go numb. It frightens me.

But, I’ll do it…I have too. When my girl and me were talking, she asked me something interesting. Both girls know what happened to me; I’ve always been pretty open and up front with them. But my girl, she asks…”who helped you to understand what happened to you when you were a kid Mum?”. Sweet girl…I told her that there wasn’t anyone and that’s what I’m trying to do now. She cried for me.

Hey, to add a little bit more shit icing to the rather intense cake…on the way to the shrinks office…the partner got a phone call to say that his surgery had been booked in for the 14th…of this month. O M fucken G. It’s a good thing I think…but, but…but…


 

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expectations are a bitch.

As much as I hate to admit it, I had a moment today, just a slight glimpse…into the unrealisticness of my expectations. And it grieves me to know that as realistic as I thought I was…I am not.

I think somewhere in my little world, I’ve had this view…hope…expectation…that someday, somewhere…when I had done enough…was good enough…had got better enough…had succeeded enough…when everything was calm enough…

That I’d be alright. That I’d be content and happy…when everything else is settled and in order.

And I’ve spent a long time trying to order my life…get all my fluffy ducks in a little ultra organised row.

Well…I think I have been mistaken. And I really really don’t like to admit it…because its a cold day in hell when I am wrong ;)

I think I’m beginning to understand what those tree huggers are getting at when they talk about ‘grounding’. It all sounded to airy fairy for me…and it still is…I think their language choice bites. But I think their version of ‘grounding’, reinterpreted, is about being OK with yourself…right now. Not waiting for the story to get better…not waiting till the stars and universes align…but right now.

That I am, OK right now. Shitty and angry…is OK. Its real and its me…at the moment. Sad and stressed…is OK…its real and its me…sometimes. Nervous and anxious…well that’s real and slightly imagined (blame ptsd for that atm)…but its real, and its me…right now and sometimes.

All of it…is all right.

It’s when I start trying to fuck with it and make it all clean and tidy and prettied up; or make excuses or give reasons for it, that I get into strife.

There is no happy ever after…theres just the here and now…and I’m OK here and now…as I have always been whenever and wherever I am.

I am who I am.


#throwback Aug 26, 2015 @ 18:25


 

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is it just perception?

I think this dude has possibly got what I’m trying to get. Well he explains it a whole lot better…him and Helen ;)

I particularly like these bits…

Security is mostly a superstition.  It does not exist in nature nor do children as a whole experience it.  Avoiding danger is not safer in the long run than outright exposure.  Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.”

– Helen Keller

“One day Ajahn Chah held up a beautiful Chinese tea-cup, “To me this cup is already broken. Because I know its fate, I can enjoy it fully here and now. And when it’s gone, it’s gone.”    When we understand the truth of uncertainty and relax, we become free.”

http://www.jackkornfield.com/the-wisdom-of-insecurity

It all feels a little bit new age, tree hug-ish…but I think the essence of it, is what I’m trying to…be…or embrace…or just get a handle on.

Life isn’t fair…for plenty of us. But I think its ultra traumatised…certain events anyway…because of how they are framed up in a ‘world view’ perspective. As in…certain things are right…wrong…indifferent…successful…retarded…lost…found. We label the shit out of stuff to supposedly help with the perception of it. But I think if it’s viewed in another light, then it doesn’t become ‘right…wrong…successful etc’. It just is.

I’m still figuring out where my high beam is…or how to use it anyway.

Food for extra thought though.



photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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discussing ‘mental health’

added August 2018

Good old Wikipedia, the lay-woman’s authority on everything from mental health to when a song was first released; notes the following:

“The DSM-5 was published on May 18, 2013, superseding the DSM-IV-TR, which was published in 2000…. Notable changes include dropping Asperger syndrome as a distinct classification; loss of subtype classifications for variant forms of schizophrenia; dropping the “bereavement exclusion” for depressive disorders; a revised treatment and naming of gender identity disorder to gender dysphoria, and removing the A2 criterion for posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) because its requirement for specific emotional reactions to trauma did not apply to combat veterans and first responders with PTSD.”

So I wondered to myself, who made the DSM the bible of mental health diagnoses?

Google and Wiki say – “the American Psychiatric Association‘s (APA)”.

Okey dokey I say…who the fuck put them in charge of diagnosing shit? Did their overpriced education make them an authority, or the authority on all things ‘unexplainable’? And…what the fuck have they got to do with me? I’m not American? And these Americans, are they speaking for all ‘Americans’? And do they realise that there are indigenous peeps that were there long before them and Columbus or whatever his handle is…long before those crusty dudes? And their exquisite ‘mental’ make up aint anything like the crusty’s? And do they understand that the peeps they snatched up from all around the world, to demoralise and enslave in the land of the ‘free’; they also don’t have the same ‘mental’ makeup as the crustations. Do they understand that those that have chosen to migrate to the all great America, also don’t have the same ‘mental’ makeup? And if the ‘non white’ population out number the ‘non coloured’ population, how is that they can have an authoritative say on anyone’s health, mental or otherwise, other than their own?

To my country and all their mental health theories, I’m rocking the same thought pattern. How can they have an authoritative say on Maori mental health, when they know nothing of our state of being? How can they diagnose and medicate after dissecting and eradicating our own health system and ancient forms of healing? How can they know when they don’t know shit?

People are all the same, in the sense that when we are cut, we bleed. We inhale air…however that may be…we are alive.

But we are not all the same.

I’m not talking division and one peep is better than another type bullshit. I’m saying that we are all distinct, different, unique, individual and a ‘one off’. There is no one like me. There is no one like you. Similar, but not exactly the same. And that right there is what makes it all so fucking beautiful.

But to say I have a mental health issue, based on some crusty American Psychiatric bible; that neither pertains or relates to me, is some of the most backward thinking bullshit that makes absolutely no sense what so ever!


#throwback Oct 16, 2015 @ 13:51


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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them.said

me: ‘aren’t our bodies amazing creations …’

them.says: ‘but you need to change …’

Inter-fucking-jection.

me: ‘ohhh sorry … I meant to say: My Body Is Amazing.’

Thats All.


my beach

photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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ewww hurt feelings …

It’s been a strange day and I was / am reluctant to be here, trying to express it … but here I am anyway.

I feel awkward … oddly enough … trying to admit I felt ratshit today. Not because feeling ratshit is bad per se, but because I don’t like admitting I had hurt feelings and that made me feel ratshit … hurt feelings for Me, feels like weakness.

Basically I feel like a little bitch … there yah go … arrghhh.

It’s so much easier to be angry or annoyed or even a bit frustrated … but hurt feelings? Not cool …

But Yes, I’m getting over myself … and … here I am.

To get to the point, today someone I know, belittled my non-ability to be able to go to the shop; to be able to leave the house; to not be able to handle the ‘crowd’. They know it can be hard for Me to go anywhere, but I am managing it … well I’m trying … and have been for some time. I have my ups and downs … I make progress and take giant plummets and try and take all that shit in my stride.

It can be embarrassing. A fully grown, once was fiercely independent and extremely capable woman, now whimpering at the prospect of traveling in the car, of having to be in a crowded space, of talking on the phone, of bright lights and loud noises … Yes, I find it fucking embarrassing, humiliating and diminishing.

But I suck that shit up and I try and try and try … and I don’t know any other fucking person who tries and tries again, as much as I do.

And I do most of this shit on my own.

I don’t have a team of experts guiding me through … or a cheer leading squad that encourages me to keep going … literally, I’d be lucky to have 2 encouraging things said to me in a month about progress or how far I’ve come, or just a friendly high fucking five and ‘can i help you at all’.

But that is the story of my life … and despite that, I still fucking get up and try again.

But today.

Today I may have just spilt a few tears.

Just a few.

It’s not that I haven’t been belittled or humiliated before … but today, it just hurt.

So I sat with the hurt for a little while. I’m not big on feelings but it seems like I gotta deal with the bastards …

And after a little while was done, I looked for something ‘good’ that I had done recently; that I could be proud of.

I got the last of my paintings out.

I smiled at them.

I smiled because they are my final 3 for the exhibition, and I like them.

I did them. I like them. And no-one can take that away from Me.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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catching up: briefly

Ay … before I get on with my riveting life lol.

I’m finding it progressively harder to write … as in, string a legible and intelligible sentence together. I don’t really bother with editing anymore … which is nice for Me but probably makes reading hard for y’all.

Soz. But not.

Sooooo … what I really got on here to brag about was: I attended my girls baby shower … people and all … I did it. Yes I did lol.

It was pretty fucken cool actually. My youngest and her mates put it together for my oldest. 5 babies and never ever had a baby shower … she was so fucken awkward … kinda like her mama: she doesn’t like being the centre of attention … but she did awesome. The whole thing was actually really enjoyable and I was ultra proud of them both xoxo

I stayed over the night with my youngest and moko #4 so that was cool too … got to hang out and catch up on her ‘day care’ goss lol. Yep theres day care goss … face painting; farm visits; gumboots; dancing; friends … lol, very cute indeed.

I was a wrecked nanny by the time we got home the following day and it took me a few days to recover form that shit … but I was pleased I had done it.

Now we are on the countdown to 2 more birthdays and the appearance of moko #6. So plenty of rest for Me and still gathering my resource kit … so far, ear plugs and ear phones and some new music have made the ‘absolutely’ list.

Churr … catchup again soon :)

I’ll leave you with this piece of drool material … made by my talented daughter <3

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timing.?.

how long is too long.

or not long enough.

to sit in silence and wait.

for another.

to be interested enough in you to.

say.

hi.

from pts(d) expression series #107 – Feb 3, 2017

photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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my.ptsd … is

A thousand butterflies in your chest
A tsunami in your tummy

It’s every fear,

all
At once
.


#throwback Apr 29, 2016


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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none wot.so.ever.

Taken August 2015

Heard some interesting news today … completely un-related to Me. Well sort of.

And I was left feeling … unsympathetic.

I think a little sympathetic was called for, but I couldn’t scrape up a smidge.

And as a smidge was being sought, I realised that I had been in the very same predicament, not that long ago, that the ‘interesting news’ was the subject matter of.

And as I thoughted … just a little harder … I thusly recollected the ounce of sympathy that I dust recievith at that time.

Thats right … it was Nil.

Not a single fuck was given to Moi, in sympathy or anything resembling an empathic tone.

So there yah have it.

No fucks given then.

No fucks given Now.

The end.