Yay @Pencil I'm glad to see your post! I've missed you :)
What you wrote makes total sense to me. I love your memory of Anne of Green Gables. It makes my heart warm. And I think you have articulated something really important--the difference between a "place" and a "feeling." While my experiences are different in some ways from yours, what you say resonates on a deeper level.
For me, being outside in nature is enormously healing--if the conditions are right (I've had a lot of nature nightmares...some which might qualify as traumatic). One of my highest moments was arriving (after a very challenging kayaking trip) on a remote island in Maine...the sun came out...I spent an hour circumnavigating the island, and leapt into the ocean at the end. The people I was with probably thought I was completely nuts, but it was one of the most joyous moments in my life when I felt such a larger sense of myself in the universe. Part of the reason it was so very joyous is that it was REAL--in real time, in my body, in a physical place--not in my imagination. (This is a huge issue for me because part of my "trauma" --and my problem with creating a safe space--is not being able to trust myself, my body, or my feelings, as being real--especially what comes from my imagination...)
I'm desperate to repeat the island experience but trying to heal this chronic pain which makes those kinds of adventures impossible for me now. A lot of my hope for the future comes from a belief that if I can "heal" from PTSD, maybe I will have the courage and ability to find more of those experiences in my life. For now, though, I need the imaginative/inner world "places" or "feelings" and it's just not happening for me. And I hope, maybe, part of my healing will be learning to trust the reality of my imagination. If that makes sense?
You've inspired me to make more of an effort to get back to reading again. Maybe it will help.
What you wrote makes total sense to me. I love your memory of Anne of Green Gables. It makes my heart warm. And I think you have articulated something really important--the difference between a "place" and a "feeling." While my experiences are different in some ways from yours, what you say resonates on a deeper level.
For me, being outside in nature is enormously healing--if the conditions are right (I've had a lot of nature nightmares...some which might qualify as traumatic). One of my highest moments was arriving (after a very challenging kayaking trip) on a remote island in Maine...the sun came out...I spent an hour circumnavigating the island, and leapt into the ocean at the end. The people I was with probably thought I was completely nuts, but it was one of the most joyous moments in my life when I felt such a larger sense of myself in the universe. Part of the reason it was so very joyous is that it was REAL--in real time, in my body, in a physical place--not in my imagination. (This is a huge issue for me because part of my "trauma" --and my problem with creating a safe space--is not being able to trust myself, my body, or my feelings, as being real--especially what comes from my imagination...)
I'm desperate to repeat the island experience but trying to heal this chronic pain which makes those kinds of adventures impossible for me now. A lot of my hope for the future comes from a belief that if I can "heal" from PTSD, maybe I will have the courage and ability to find more of those experiences in my life. For now, though, I need the imaginative/inner world "places" or "feelings" and it's just not happening for me. And I hope, maybe, part of my healing will be learning to trust the reality of my imagination. If that makes sense?
Yes, yes, yes. I haven't been able to read literature since the PTSD hit (this is devastating to me as prior to that I used to read 1-2 books a week). I have lost myself in music recently, and some poetry. But my whole life I have lost myself (or found safety in) novels. It's ironic that when I am so desperate for a safe place or feeling now, my old go-tos are not doing the trick. I do suspect, however, that my getting lost in reading was a way of dissociating for me. I don't know, really. I did, for the first time in 7 months, start a novel on Wednesday. It may be too complex for me right now (the third in a dystopian trilogy by a Canadian author I love). I bought it at Christmas and was really excited about it. In fact, I have a pile of around a dozen new books waiting for me to be able to focus again. We'll see.have you ever lost yourself in a description or a ... whatever ... in a book, or song or a poem? Those were my safe places
I think this is really intriguing. It is the FEELING I'm looking for, really, like you. The place matters much less. When I write about needing a safe "place" I guess I really mean a feeling place. As I've mentioned before, this usually has to do with feeling "held" by someone gentle and kind and very safe. Whatever place I go to requires someone like that to be there with me.I do remember a feeling of safety, or actually almost a sensation of safety - and I find trying to get back to that feeling, instead of place,
That is a wonderful moment. I'm so happy for you that you had it. I remember a moment like this...sadly, the book was no real "classic" just a kid book that allowed me to "be" someone else for the duration of the reading, to see the world from their eyes (I think I was about 7 years old). That is what addicted me to novels.I fell in love with language and literature; I remember the moment - I was completely absorbed and lost in the text, and I can go back to that moment.
You've inspired me to make more of an effort to get back to reading again. Maybe it will help.