I feel. So fucking much. All the time. And I so wish I didn’t. Because it really fucking hurts sometimes. And I gotta say, I am really fucking sick and tired of my heart hurting. I wish sometimes I was not that which I am. But try as I might, I cannot be anything else. Continue reading
It used to be one of my favorite holidays. I have memories of my dad going upstate and getting my mom some of the biggest pumpkins ever. She would take so much joy intricately carving those, decorating the house, buying a new “creepy” thing each year to add to her collection. She reveled in each of the costumed children that came to the door, particularly the littles. One of the things I “got” from her was a love of this day. Jesse loved it as well. For many years, we were the creepiest house on the block by far. Continue reading
When one is faced with living with the mind numbing horrific trauma that I have seen, one learns to distract themselves.
At first, when everything is fresh, you walk around like a zombie (which after seeing dead bodies, you really don’t ever want to see a picture of a zombie or have to explain to someone why you cannot watch The Walking Dead). You do random things, like clean the kitchen, organize a box, pay bills. This is like the next day. Because you cannot sit still. Your brain is trying to wrap itself around what happened and it can’t, because it is so fucking unbelievable. A quote that I heard after was “you cannot make sense out of something that never will make sense” plays around, because we are mostly rational in our day to day. We want to understand, make sense of things. And this, this thing, you cannot. Continue reading
PTSD is a disorder that develops in someone who has experienced a shocking, scary, or dangerous event according to the National Institute of Mental Health. Not everyone will develop it, though those that do, it can show up immediately or even years after. Some people recover, some people live with it chronically. Having it present in your life can reek havoc (in your day to day, work, family, relationships). It shows up in a variety of ways: flashbacks (re-experiencing), nightmares, thoughts that are “worst case scenarios.” You may block out time around the event, you may be more forgetful in general, have trouble focusing, not enjoy things like you used to, avoid things/places/people. Your body may go through a variety of reactions when experiencing PTSD. You may become dizzy, scared, have temperature changes (hot/cold), break out in a sweat, want to cry, have a rapid heart beat, shake, be nauseous. It can happen for obvious reasons (you see something that reminds you of the event) or it can happen out of no where. Those are especially challenging because people will often ask you: “I don’t understand, why did it happen?” And the answer is I just don’t know. Continue reading
I spread Jesse’s ashes this past Saturday. Well, that was the idea. What actually happened was a series of metaphors that I cannot and still do not believe happened.
You see, I was ready. I had been ready for about a year to do this, and really ready for about six months. There are a lot of reasons for this. It is such a complicated grief with him that I vacillated between honoring his wishes (which thankfully we talked about after we got married) and taking him out back, digging a hole, dumping him in, pooping on it, then calling it good. Yeah, I know, not one of my more glorious and compassionate thought processes. I figured being in the mostly anger stage of grief recently, I better get him out and honor his wishes. Another reason, in order to allow new energy to come in, you have to let go of old. That is another post for another day. Let’s just say about six months ago, I got there. Continue reading
I came to Bend this weekend. I come as often as I can. I found after Jesse and Bella died, it was one of the only places that I felt peaceful. This weekend, no one is here but me. I often remember the times when the girls were running around the house, making all kinds of ruckus, all I wanted was peace and quiet. After, I kept myself so busy, distracted, to the point of exhaustion, the first time I was alone in the house, I almost lost my mind. We adapt. We cannot survive as a species otherwise. I mostly can do it now. In fact, I now need it. When I have seen a lot of patients, been “on” in the world, when the city is particularly loud, I need that counterbalance of quiet. My system is constantly on adrenaline overload, waiting for that next shoe to drop, it’s the PTSD. I have learned that being in quiet sorta calms it down a bit, more like it doesn’t add to it. That being said, when one is quiet, the mind becomes loud. Within that loud, not all the time, but often enough, flashbacks occur. That can come in any shape or form, from what I found that night, to the leading up, to the after, to anything my mind can conjure up.
So, it’s part of the many dichotomies that I encounter now. Try to neutralize the constant adrenaline coursing through me, with quiet, knowing well that it can backfire at any moment. I think that is why I come here as often as I can. It is consistently one of the few places where my body can calm down a bit, my mind unencumbered by flashbacks, and I can be peaceful. For this, I am grateful.
