Image

pts(d) anxiety

Interesting thing racked up to a ‘learning  moment’ today.

I’m currently having one of those long moments, where I don’t want to go anywhere.

I try and sit with and decide whether it’s just a ‘today’ thing or I’m actually nervous about going outside.

Most of the time, it’s the latter.

And even if it is the former, that tends to be laden with guilt for some fucked up reason, which in turn turns it into the latter.

Either way, I’m usually to headfucked by both by the time I’ve tried to work it all out and then I’m physically too fucked to go anywhere or do anything.

Upon reading information regarding ‘social anxiety’ and generalised anxiety symptoms, I have, in all my infinite wisdom, decided that pts(d) anxiety, whilst similar, is most definitely different.

The interesting similarity though, is the fear of what is expected of us … real or imagined.

The slight difference with pts(d) anxiety, is those imagined fears, have at some point and time, been realities.

Whats my point?

I aint got one.

Suffice to say: Fuck anxiety in all of it’s forms.


from pts(d) expression series #70 – Dec 28, 2016 @ 08:01

SaveSave

SaveSave

Advertisements
Image

what does

did yah know that

sexual assault

or sexual violation,

whatever your feng shui;

does a number of things

to ones gig.

theres the physical act.

the physical results.

those scars can be permanent.

tearing.

bruising.

scarring.

a womb, that won’t bear children.

just to name a few.

then there’s the psychological

fuckery.

paranoia.

fear.

anxiety.

dreams: nightmares: night terrors,

potatoe – potato.

whatevs: bitches are bitches.

then there’s the sexual effects.

we are sexual beings.

sexual violation, is an offence of the sexual being.

the results:

flashbacks –

smell.

pain.

sight.

hearing.

taste.

to get it fucking twisted

a pts(d) fuck:

that those past violations

are present violations.

that they are re-lived

right here

right now,

even though you know with your head

they’re not now:

you body says otherwise.


from pts(d) expression series #75 – Jan 2, 2017 @ 08:03

Image

unfucking thyself 101.114

Karakia:

Atua

Tukua

Homai to Aroha

Ae.

114.

I have this thing for finishing what I start. Actually, the whole fucking world (western world actually) does.

If you don’t finish something then you’re no good; won’t ever amount to anything; aren’t stable etc etc.

I wonder who made that shit up?

Whoever did, did a good job of perpetuating their bullshit onto many a generation of peeps; including mine.

It’s a pain in my ass … in causes anxiety and stress … the thought … thats right, just the thought … of not Finishing something to completion.

My OCD self then increases the angst by having to complete something to ‘my’ standard … which isn’t like everyone elses … it’s a special kind of fuckery lol.

So as you can see by some of my earlier posts today, I’m on a fucking roll lol. And I’m ‘finishing’ shit up.

Why?

So my OCD half can leave it all the fuck alone. So I can listen to my instincts without having this gnawing feeling in the back of my mind, or in the pit of my gutt, telling Me I haven’t completed a certain something, so I can’t do something else.

Geezus.

The picture?

My chisels.

A constant reminder that I didn’t do the 3 years like I said I would. I only did the first year. I did fucking well and yes, I was actually fucking fucked with undiagnosed pts(d) at that stage … but who cares … I didn’t complete what I said I would. Instead I made excuses as to why just the first year was enough.

Fucks sakes ay!

I have learnt today that I am part of my own problem.

Hard pill to swallow but swallowing I am.

When is enough, enough for Me?

What does completed mean? Does it mean what I think it means or am I just another product of mental colonisation?

So here I am, again, against every little bit of my will, finishing up a process I started, before I think I should … because, it turns out, that ‘unfucking myself’ is simply a matter of stopping doing what I’ve always done, or thinking like I’ve always thought … and doing something different. It don’t matter if the new way is right or wrong … it’s just a change in direction.

Peace.


Fin.


 

re write – forty

“theres no right or wrong.

theres just the process.

forward is not always a movement and the things that seem the darkest are sometimes the things that are ok.”


Fin.


 

Image

waves

waves

of

panic.

it’s fear.

coming in phases.

choking the breath

right outta your body.

from pts(d) expression series #59 – Dec 17, 2016 @ 08:01

what helps?

When I google things like ‘how to deal with anxiety’; or look through the ‘anxiety and pts(d)’ tags here on wordpress …  a shittonne of well meaning self help guru sites pop up.

Now no offence directly intended … and I do have a point …

For some people, these are the keys they are looking for in and on their journey.

For people like Me … they are a minefield of alternate questions, advertising, manipulation and alterations.

Self help sites; glorified ‘i had a hard time and now I’m all better’ sites, Do Not work for Me. I wish they would … but they don’t. The same goes for people, occasions, therapists, psychologists … For Me, the disingenuous is not a selling point or a motivational tool … it is a pain in the ass.

So what helps?

Truth.

Plain and simple, raw, tell it like it is: Truth.

#JS

Image

an end

my threads

are a hope.

a series,

of hopes.

the hopes

that I’ll have an answer

a reason,

as the time goes by.

that as i go through the process

i’ll end up with better

answers.

 

i be forgetting though,

that the process

is the answer.

that there is no beginning and end.

it just is.


from pts(d) expression series #104 – Jan 31, 2017 @ 08:01

Image

reconciling the hormones #77

So, the happy hormones are slowly settling into a nice little groove.

Ok, so ‘nice groove’ is an optimistic term; one that I hope will turn into a ‘actual reality’!

I’m kinda getting used to what is a hormonal fluctuation and what isn’t lol. And the best way to describe it, is it’s like being pregnant and having your period all at once.

I can cry at the drop of a hat, at not much in particular … and then be overwhelmed by rage the next second. My already broken ‘filter’ becomes even more of a menace and my thoughts can go from crystal clear to an absolute scrabbled egg!

So much Fun … *groan*

So aside from the emotions, the physical side of things means my waist line is getting lost (in reality its been kinda lost since the mid-2000s *extra groan*), the facial hair does whatever the fuck it wants, the boobs are heading south even more than they were, and my uterus feels like its crawling outta my vag every other day.

Awesome.

The only difficulty here, is discerning what is just ‘ageing’ and what is purely hormonal and will hopefully pass as 50 something comes and goes … farkkkssakes lol.

All in all though, I think I’m doing Ok. I know when to hit the floor and do a bit of yoga … I know when I need 2 ice packs instead of one, and I know when I should probably just have a nap instead of posting on facebook lol.

So this will be my last hormonal type post for awhile … if not forever.

I might update when the periods stop completely … Yuss!

Love and light to y’all my menstruating / menopausing peoples … Mwah!


from pts(d) expression series #138 – Mar 6, 2017 @ 08:02

Fin.


 

Image

photography .87

#97

from pts(d) expression series #97 – Jan 24, 2017 @ 08:01

#sunset #whanganui #newzealand #beautiful #nature #ocean #sea #tangaroa #ptsdview #photo #photograph #photography #photographer #kpm©


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

Image

why am i letting it go?

Theres a time and place for everything … apparently. According to ‘the wise’, the bible, ancient scholars … important peeps – apparently.

But as I was pondering my shizz this arvo; and ruminating on shit I’d read in the last couple days … things I’ve learnt … things I’ve said … things I’ve Had to say … I came up with the above short liner – ‘a time and place for everything’ bullshit.

Not really understanding what the fuck that had to do with anything, I left it.

Till about 10 minutes ago.

You see …

I hold onto shit, because its mine and because some ancient white twat told me to let go of it.

And that sums up my lifes work really.

If you Tell Me I should do something, by fuck, I won’t do it.

If You suggest politely, that I might like to think about doing it ‘such-in-such’ a way, because it worked for You; by fuck, I won’t do it.

Why?

Because it’s not my choice.

You can’t manipulate Me into making Your choice. You can’t buy Me into making Your choice. And by fuck You can’t Make Me do what You think or want Me to do.

Why?

Because My choice was taken from Me too early and it shaped who I am now. Surprisingly, I don’t care.

Now as simplistic as that sounds is besides the point. Yes it may sound childish … because it fucken is. But when you fuck with a child, ‘normally’, they will show you their stubbornness – their ‘will’ – they will exercise their ‘choices’ … and thats how they learn.

But when you silence them … suffocate and rape them … all that freedom to choose bullshit goes out the window. For That child, it becomes a matter of survival.

Fast forward forty years and someone is suggesting I should forgive and let it all go … You: as well meaning as you might think you are … are just hindering my process.

I don’t let go and I don’t give a fuck if it kills Me.

Do you know how many near death events I have faced?

Can you comprehend what it feels like to be crushed under the weight of a fully grown man whose trying to gets his rocks off, and You are 1/8th of said mans size?

No.

Can you comprehend gagging and choking at the end of a giant dick, wondering if you can breath through your ears?

No?

That my friends,  is survival.

And letting that go is not about forgiveness, thats about making others feel comfortable that I have made peace with the whole fucking thing and we can move on to talking about your new car, or the recipe you got off’ve an ‘amazeballs’ website …

NOT letting go, for Me, is not about forgiveness or unforgiveness …

Not letting go, is about remembering how fucking gangstah I am.

How fucking ‘amazeballs’ that little girl was to learn to breath through her fucking ears!

Not letting go … for how ever long that is … is My choice; My remembrance and my fucking celebration of the sacrifices that little girl made so I can have breathe today.

In her darkness, and in her fucking suffering, I have life.

Why the fuck would I let that Go.


from pts(d) expression series #95 – Jan 22, 2017 @ 08:00