Anxiety, Domestic violence, Grief and loss, Mental health, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Women's self care

Purple

Purple is my hand down favorite color. It has been since I was a small girl. My room was painted a pretty lavender and I incorporated unicorns as a main decorating theme when I was in third grade. It was my oasis and my safe place. Since I can remember just looking at any shade of purple calms me down and soothes me. I have always been a scared and fearful person, like my whole body buzzes internally constantly. My spirit animal is a rabbit. Perhaps it’s the trauma I have endured since childhood or reading and picking up on energy. Most likely a combination of the two. When I got really scared I used to hide under my bed or in my closet. I can admit to doing this even as an adult. That last admission has made me feel ashamed of myself. I understand for me it became a way for me to self soothe.

Three years ago I bought myself the best Christmas present ever! It’s a weighted blanket in a customized purple material. I found it on a sensory/tactile products for healing website and it’s become literally my adult security blanket. Children and adults with autism love it as well as those who suffer from anxiety and depression. It’s likes getting a huge hug and gits all my pressure points at once. My nurse in the psych hospital introduced it to me. We patients had to share it because there wasn’t enough to go around. There was a sign out sheet for it. I always told myself once I could I would get my own.

My weighted blanket is part of my self care routine. My fiance throws it over me when I’m about to or having a panic attack. Similar to smothering a fire, it brings my engines down to neutral. It’s also extremely beneficial during my time of the month. I can’t say enough good things about the benefits of using one, I highly recommend it!

This poem grew from that love and became elevated into my commentary on humanity. I wish we could wrap a purple blanket around the Earth so we can all feel its vibe!

Anxiety, Domestic violence, Mental health, Uncategorized

Touch

I’m a lover and a giver. I love to hug and I’m big on using touch to heal. Displays of affection both privately and publically are my thing. I love to have my back rubbed and my arm gently scratched. It’s a known fact that human touch is essential to life and the ability to be happy and thrive. That’s why neonatal massage is so beneficial for newborns in the ICU.

One of the gifts I have in addition to being an intuitive empath is I am also a physical empath. I help my fiance daily with his aches and pains from playing professional football. Sometimes I get phantom pains before he even tells me what hurts. It’s very rewarding for me to help heal others both physically and emotionally.

There is a growing lack of compassion and empathy in our world today. Kindness doesn’t cost a thing and can seriously change a person’s life. I like to think about the impact the idea of paying it forward with emotional currency would have on us as a society. More understanding and acceptance of others no matter their culture, race, gender, sexual preference, beliefs etc. This poem was born from those thoughts.

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Mental health, Spirituality, Uncategorized

What’s real and me

I have a very discerning eye for genuineness. Society has been so impacted by social media and the 24 hour cycle of news we live in today. The desire to be famous and thirst for other people’s drama is driving our culture into questionable morality extremes. I’m also an intuitive empath and have instinctively been curious about the human condition. When I was going through many of my battles with C-PTSD, psychiatric hospitalizations, outpatient programs and self examinations I was always hinting for answers. Why am I like this? How can I get better? Will I ever feel “normal” again? I learned many helpful things about myself and gained so much insight into the human psyche. Here are some facts about me

1. I am a highly sensitive person and so much in life triggers me

2. Learning how to compartmentalize my thoughts has helped me immensely

3. Using visualization and meditation techniques keeps me grounded and present. The more I practice that the more automatic it becomes as my response to stressful situations.

4. I’m a free spirit and very open minded. I’m honest and trusting to a fault sometimes.

5. Balance and boundaries are two areas I struggle with, always a work in progress. I start my day with a Radical Acceptance mantra (my favorite DBT principle) reminding myself to be mindful of not only my actions and motives but those of others.

5. Learning and implementing DBT has changed my life in such a meaningful way. I am so grateful for Marsha Linehan, the creator of the behavioral modification therapy.

I hope to impart more pearls of wisdom that I have gathered on my journey with this blog. This poem is inspired by my feelings and musings on what’s real, truthful, honest and geniune. Contrasting with what’s fake, fraudulent, dishonest or a sham.

Anxiety, Depression, Domestic violence, Mental health, Uncategorized

Aftershocks

I have been through so many ups and downs on my life’s journey. Maintaining my patience has yielded me progress. I’m nothing if not a survivor. I’ve morphed into an emotional warrior. I have battle scars across my heart. My children have told me, Mom…you are so unlucky. I tell them nah, God just trusts me a heck of a lot. He knows I will be able to figure out whatever comes my way. I’m unbreakable, like Tephlon strong. Processing all that has transpired these last seven years inspired me to write this.

Anxiety, Depression, Grief and loss, Mental health, Uncategorized

What if

It has been raining here for days without end. I have been laying low because that’s what my mood dictates. Searching through an app I have that streams the latest movies and television shows, I stumbled upon the series “Forever”. Maya Rudolph and Fred Armisen play a married couple caught in a prediticable marriage when they suddenly find themselves in an unexpected situation. I can relate because in many ways my marriage was similar. What happens when we get into routines and for me with my children that became our pattern. The ninth episode focuses on the afterlife. The couple find themselves pushing past their personalities, boundaries and expectations from when they were alive. The characters in their own way start acting out in more fearless and truthful ways. It got me thinking about how confined we can get within ourselves in life. As an empath, it’s easy for me to put myself in others shoes, whether real or imagined. All these questions sprang to mind and I wrote this poem.

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Anxiety, Depression, Domestic violence, Grief and loss, Mental health, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Women's self care

A monster came knocking

Seven years ago I was coming out of an emotional denial. That time now feels like a hazy dream. I was functioning daily in a robotic way. Truly going through all the motions, nobody would of guessed how much pain, confusion, loneliness and anger I was feeling inside because the woman on the outside showed everyone she was beautiful and perfect. Always happy and content. Yet unsettled, not peaceful. I know now I was on the path to a severe nervous breakdown. I was working three jobs while trying to survive a messy divorce. My two boys whom I had been a stay at home mother to for 10 years moved out to live with my ex husband. It was at my request. My act of compassion in attempting to protect them. From me. I believed I was cracking under the pressure of the charade I had been keeping up for twelve years and that it would be safer for them not to be around me. Growing up with the way my mother was I was terrified about becoming like her and making my boys feel like I did. My mental health issues came to a head. I likened it to dropping a million piece puzzle on the ground. That’s how my brain felt. A tearing at the seams turned into shredded material strewn all over my house. I had been the three males in my life’s everything mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually and there was nothing left for me. I stuffed my emotions, my dreams and my desires. I wasn’t even on my list of priorities let alone at the bottom of it.

Yet at the time I didn’t know that. I certainly didn’t acknowledge that. I felt fulfilled by my jobs, intensive exercise training for races I was running in while being an exercise anorexic and consuming huge amounts on alcohol and Xanax. I thought I looked great and it wasn’t until a dear friend brought his concerns up to me. He said, “who do you think you are, a rock star?” I was in a constant state of perpetual motion almost 20 hours each day. That had been had been my routine for months. Truly burning my candle at both ends. Literally running away from life.

Then the monster walked into my life. I refuse to call him by his name because remembering it and saying it honors him and he is not deserving. My ego was off the charts and I presented as a charismatic woman without a care in the world. I believe now it was my sheer brokenness that he sniffed out and was attracted to. Whatever started the spark between us grew rapidly into a raging forest fire within just four short months.

The monster moved into my home and I wasn’t lonely anymore. I had found someone who loved me, cooked and cleaned for me. Yet went through these crazy incoherent and incredibly violent controlling episodes where I ended up battered and abused on the floor. I have never seen that kind of rage before. Growing up my own mother who is clinically insane had scared the daylights out of me with her fits. She was a lamb compared with this lion living in my house. He said he loved me and I blindingly believed him.

That last month was the most terrifying time in my entire life. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight. I couldn’t even take a shower alone. He controlled what I ate, when I ate, when I slept, if I slept. Absolutely everything. I actually allowed another human being to fully dominate me 100%. I survived being screamed at in my face, choked and strangled, punched, kicked, thrown right through a wall and raped repeatedly. By that time I was completely isolated from any of my friends and family. My family lived many states away, not at all close. He held my phone anyways and monitored all my calls so either way I wasn’t telling anybody what was going on. The police came many times to my house. My neighbors would call them anonymously trying to save me. Each time I would swear to the officer that I was fine. He would stand behind the door glaring at me, making sure I was keeping his secret. Nobody could save me and there would be not rescue.

Finally, one Saturday morning as I was getting ready to teach my dance class he started in on me. First the screaming than the hitting. The thought came to my mind that he might actually succeed in killing me this time. So my act of taking back control in the situation was to swallow a bottle of pills and chase it with a few shots of vodka. I would be the one to kill me not him. He watched me do it and then continued his beating of me before he threw me in the car and dropped me off at the ER.

Upon waking up in the hospital in that bed with my arms tied to the gurny I learned I would be committed to a psychiatric hospital. Not only was I alive but God was offering me a new life, a chance to change, it was my moment of desperation. Where I realized I had two choices. I could try to stab myself with a medical instrument and get the job done right this time or I could use this opportunity to see hope in my future. Trust me I grappled with the first option for awhile. Lastly I thought if I could hold on to that hope and give myself a chance to heal, I just might make it. The acronym I like for hope is hold on pain ends.

In the years since that time I believe I am living proof of that statement. I had to learn how to put space between my thoughts, feelings and actions. Determine if I was to react or respond in certain situations. Start on the path of trusting myself, knowing my self worth and most importantly believing in myself. God shown his light through my hospital window that day. He reached out his hand to guide me. All I did was take a small leap of faith, held on tightly to hope and received his hand.

#mentalhealth #complexptsd #suicide

#hope #god #love #lifeisbeautiful

Anxiety, Depression, Mental health, Uncategorized

Cleansing

I’ve heard tears cleanse the soul. No matter which emotion they derive from be it sadness,happiness, fear what have you. Years ago I went through a six year stretch that I simply didn’t cry. I thought at the time it was from being on psychiatric medication. In hindsight, I now believe I was in such a deep denial. A robotic type of functioning that prevented me from feeling. I blocked out my emotional self and denied myself its truth. I also used to be afraid of crying because I thought if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I literally feared drowning in my own sorrows.

Today I am powerful in my emotions. I know they all make me strong and bring me closer to my true self. They are absolutely necessary in order for me to breathe. It’s not always pretty and sometimes it’s very messy. I understand however that there is no other way. I have turned the corner of denial, wearing masks and faking it. I refuse to be anyone else but me. For that I am so grateful.