I See Her

She’s so open to the world. She likes learning, and believes all that’s told her – she has no reason to doubt yet. She doesn’t know people manipulate and lie to get what they want, and she’s learning how to navigate the anger and family dysfunction around her.

Her sisters were everything to her, but it didn’t work the other way.  Her oldest sister was kinder, and seemed so worldly. But that’s the way it is for younger siblings. The older ones seem wise and wonderful, even if they’re also often unkind.

She is always seeking. She looked for god and found only more questions, not the promised answers. She had to let it go so she could live.

Her life moved on, the pace quickening with each year.  A son helped her grow & mature into a woman and mother, but the challenges mounted with little respite.

Time wore on, her son now a man off on his own, leaving her floundering for several years seeking stability and balance, and finally realizing nothing’s a permanent state but ongoing negotiations – or at least that’s how it is for her.

A room full of unanswered questions, and unrealized hopes & dreams stands open for cleaning and sorting, but where to begin?

question sign
https://www.flickr.com/photos/colinkinner/2200500024/

Was it Mary Poppins who said that’s it’s always best to start at the beginning? Perhaps I just needed her to say that.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

 

 

Waning Days of January

It began around January 23rd, and probably before then – building up – but that’s when I noticed the pall overhead and me trying to duck it, unsuccessful again. It begins with dread – or not dread exactly – but disturbance. Something is looming, something I try to stay ahead of, but am swallowed anyway.

I offer up all the positive messages I can. I acknowledge, ignore, accept, and end up pleading for its end.

Imagine a usual route you take, maybe some minor annoyances with traffic, or people, or maybe potholes, or other manageable blips on the way – and then you sense something when you get in your car one morning. There’s no reason – nothing seems different. The weather is good, the drive starts fine, and you chide yourself for misgivings about potential something ahead. A dog runs into the road and you avoid hitting it, and feel relieved. OK, that was it, that was the curve-ball that day, but your heightened awareness doesn’t ease.

You continue your routine, accepting the foreboding, or whatever it is you can’t shake, and then a tire blows, and you navigate your car to the side of the road. Vehicles pass by as you make calls to work, to a tow company, and you think that this was what your gut was warning you about.

Days pass, and the sensation dulls a bit, but doesn’t leave. It’s gnawing – like a toothache you hope will resolve on its own.

These days are leading to the precipice, but I’ve been triaging the whole time. It’s as though a separate entity is controlling my brain – or something beyond my control.

I know that’s not the case, I’m not possessed, I just can’t change the direction. I have to buckle up and hope I ride this out better than last year – better than all the years, probably since I was born, or whatever traumatic event(s) my psyche re-lives every. fucking. year.

Therapy: check. Antidepressants: no go TMS: check, but insurance won’t cover another round, and I can’t afford it out-of-pocket. Wise Mind Group: check. I’m starting a 13-week group today, and I’ve done this before, and do use cognitive behavioral techniques, but trauma is like trying to catch a greased, wild, pig. Even if you catch it, the pig isn’t domesticated.

The pig is autonomous though. Maybe the pig doesn’t think it’s self-determined – it probably doesn’t consider ‘self’ at all – but it knows enough to not want to be caught, and is frightened and raged at the trying.

February looms, but spring will emerge. That’s hope. The world still turns.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current