Strange Star

[Deleted member 28740]

Perhaps this is one of the lessons art is aimed at inculating Hmmm.

Clay, then marble. I went my own way, first class. 3/4 or more into the marble (my first) it broke. 1/3 calved off. I give up. "NO you do not, you will now complete this." I railed against the diminishment that it was not what I had invested in. Few week to course end. I thank you for reminding me of that trail and tribulation. I love the piece. So much lost in my life. I did not have a life /work environment to sculpt again. But want to, need to! Mistakes can be good medicine. Yep even if living out of the car, can start that again.

 

[Hope4Now]

I did not have a life /work environment to sculpt again. But want to, need to! Mistakes can be good medicine. Yep even if living out of the car, can start that again.

Yes.

This is for you, @Changeling

 

[Deleted member 28740]

@Hope4Now thank you. I had a wonderful teacher even this I took it as an after work course at CC. First piece was to be clay, and a shoe. WTF? I want a shoe to put a cactus in? Nah. My mom had visited bringing old pieces of my childhood that had survived world travel. A teddy bear. (loaded issues with that have surfaced since). The proportions are big head atop a droopy core and limbs. Sculpt, take it apart and core out the interior, reattach, no air bubble. The head, oh the head weighed down on the body…. The instructor was a wily character. During the firing he would say "I heard something explode in there, not a shoe." It turned out a beauty.

He was the one that would not let me start on a new marble piece. A spiritual guide that I chanced upon. Makes me question what I need in my life to live. TO LIVE. I live very simple, but need that life force of belief in me and sculpting did that. I did not question myself just in the moment. The marble piece is a mystery still. My mother who has never liked me saw it at a boyfriends house and thought it was a in the owners artist collection. HA!

 

[Hope4Now]

One Thanksgiving down. Whew. Not too painful, but enough. No details needed. We got through. The saving grace was hearing my little almost-2 year old nephew talking! And asking for seconds on turkey. And then thirds! And then PIE! That little person sure can pack away a lot of food! He won't talk to me or my husband (very shy) but he LOVES my kids. Watching my 19 year old son playing with him was precious. It made everything else tolerable.

Tomorrow...Thanksgiving #2 with the other family and cousins from Texas.
Saturday...Sightseeing with the cousins and dinner at our house for all 12. (REALLY? I want to say to my husband...argh!
Sunday...Church and more cousin time and then drinks with neighbors.
Monday...gearing up for funeral.
Tuesday...funeral. Will end up being an all-day affair with service, burial, and reception.

I talked to my mother's brother today. He went to friends for Thanksgiving. He cried on the phone. He is 82. The only other time in my life I have ever witnessed him crying is when his father died when I was 12. It was hard. He is rather like a second father to me. But he is in New York, and I am powerless to help him in his grief. I am very sad.

I am not going to write any more now. I should go to bed. It has been a very difficult day not only because of the festivities. More because of what happened last night, and then nightmares, and then being up from 1:30 AM to 6:30 AM as a result.

So...self care. Going to bed. Soon.

 

[Hope4Now]

15 people in my home for dinner tonight. I have escaped to breathe for a little. My husband did it ALL. I came home from therapy (more direct access that makes me feel totally crazy but is so very helpful too :banghead::bag::arghh;:wacky::yuck::wtf::wideeyed::woot::banghead::banghead::banghead::bag:) and slept for 3.5 hours solid. Major nightmare, but very informative. What I really want right now is to go somewhere all by myself and think about the dream and what it told me about my emotional chaos. But there will be time. After the 15 go off. I'm grateful they're here. I like my in-law family quite a lot. It's just that social stuff really, really drains me. And I hate that it does. Working on being present. I am glad, at least, that I am at my own house and can disappear and reappear at will.

 

[Hope4Now]

I think, perhaps, the last shreds of doubt about the fact that I am completely nuts was swept away last night. I basically watched myself interact with people until the last folks finally left around 12:30 AM. I had tons of fun, as it turned out. Or part of me did. Lots of laughing, etc. But I was behaving and saying things that were so NOT me. And yet aware that I was me at the same time. Because I recognized the part. It is my social part.

I suppose I am very lucky that all my parts seem to be pretty decent folks.

And I am very lucky to have a husband whose idea of a "simple easy meal" was a hor d'oeuvres and buffet dinner with fine china and silver and linen napkins and bouillabaisse, homemade squid ink pasta and lemon pepper pasta and caesar salad with homemade dressing for 15 people. And when I commented on his notion of simplicity, he just smiled and said he had fun. That took away some of my guilt for not helping. He was chef, server, bartender, and cleaner-upper. Wow. He is amazing.

After everybody had gone, my husband and I had a nice time hanging out together as we got ready for bed. I initiated some intimacy. I realized when I woke up this morning that something must have happened beyond what I remembered. I asked him (which is a HUGE DEAL for me to admit that I didn't know). It did. It deeply disturbs me that I do not remember. That I must have completely dissociated or gotten totally flooded by a part. He said that he stopped things when he realized that I was getting "activated" (which is the new useful term we're using when what is happening is not clear).

I am staying in bed today to just let all this crap that is swirling around inside me settle a little. I slept most of the night except I had successive nightmares. So I will just sleep all day today. Except for making my turkey stock. That will be the only practically useful thing I have done today. And it makes the house smell really, really good. My husband and kids are going to a play tonight.

I am beginning to understand that my constant exhaustion may have a lot to do with basically having a variety of "people" equivalents with different agendas battling it out for control of this one tired body. I am getting to know some of them a little better with the help of this "direct access" thing Yoda is doing with me. Little bits and pieces of what happens in those times seem to stick in my consciousness. Like yesterday we were working with this one part and I remember hearing it/myself say, "I don't want to hurt them." It was referring to the really wounded parts that it holds inside of it. And this is one of my self-destructive parts. So it was really weird to hear myself say that. And really good too. But very very confusing too.

Okay then. That's about all I can handle today. I am going back to bed.

 

[Hope4Now]

I am really, really, messed up. Vascillating between suicidal and completely normal/manicky (just cooked two meals simultaneously plus roasted pumpkin seeds). I can SEE that I am messed up. I can't seem to do a damned thing about it. Except try to be normal. I went to church. I got to babysit a 3 month old adorable infant for 30 minutes. I came home and messed with branches for art projects and decorations. I crashed until I had to drag myself out to pick up my daughter. I went to a friend's house to try out her exercise contraption for fibromyalgia. I came home exhausted, but I started cooking. I am crashing again. But if I don't keep moving, I feel like something not good will happen. And I know--at least partly--why.

Because I "opened a conversation" with two of my parts who don't quite know each other. I did it and I was thrilled I did it. But then the backlash happened and I am caught in it. And I can't crash because I have 2 appointments tomorrow plus have to get my daughter to and from school. I am not good at balancing.

I made good choices on Friday and yesterday. And probably good ones today too as they kept me from crashing hard and bad. But it is coming. And I cannot do it by myself. And I don't know how to ask for help. And I am terrified that if I tell anybody what is going on that I will end up Section 12 again.

Caught as always between rocks and hard places. There is really only so much internal distress one body can tolerate. And I am putting in my very very best efforts. And I am succeeding in fending it off. But it's like holding back a tsunami. And my walls are really, really tired.

f*ck.

But I will be okay. I am always okay. That is who I am. Strong. Capable. Vaguely productive. Good spouse. Good mom. Good person. Got to cling to that as long as I can, right?

 

[shimmerz]

Here if you need me. Sent you an email hon. Hang tough. Be good to you. Reach out if you feel it will help. Maybe won't hurt!

 

[Hope4Now]

ok now. Personal crisis averted thanks to another mini-crisis with daughter. Sent you email. Thank you. Thank you.

 

[shimmerz]

Wonderful news! :hug:

 

[Hope4Now]

Yikes has it ever been a rough and roller-coaster week. I am navigating through it. Had some major shifts in consciousness that are helpful in some ways, but the fallout hasn't all happened yet.

One is that I have dumped Mr. Famous Psychiatrist. Finally acknowledged that even though he is Mr. Famous and smart and very cutting edge regarding psychopharm, he is an incredibly closed-off person who refuses to engage human-to-human. And I can't work with people like that. So I was tired of slamming my head against that proverbial wall (and paying him a fortune for the privilege). So done. I have two other folks I can call if I want to pursue psychopharm.

Second, I got my mobility scooter today. I have been really excited about it since I ordered it. I put it all together and actually tried it out tonight. It is going to change my life profoundly. All that's good, but then I had a total meltdown. Because how pathetic is it that I am so excited that maybe I can take a "walk" with my dog, or go to the grocery store, without being in terrible pain and then so exhausted that I have to rest for hours afterward? Pathetic. Especially for somebody like me who used to swim and bike and hike and ski and do all sorts of other fun things. But I am just starting to acknowledge that fibromyalgia is a lifelong condition. There is not a cure. This is not going to go away. All I can do is figure out how to live to lessen the exhaustion and pain and better manage the issues. My parts are NOT on board with this forever thing. I am still wrapping my head around the notion of "chronic illness." Still not wanting to believe/accept it.

Third, I had a sort of dark night of the soul the other night. Came pretty close to just ending my life as it now exists. It wasn't my wildly violent suicidally parts. This one was a much calmer, more detached part. Not a new one. I know it's there. It's just that this was the first time in a long while that it flooded me that far. But I didn't do anything after all angst. I got into bed. Went to sleep. Had this realization that yes, I do have parts that are suicidal and self-destructive. That think I ought to kill myself. But I also have parts that are very much invested in staying alive. And I realized that what I am really sick of is living in this in-between state of chaos and suffering. I have the choice to die, or to choose to live. I chose the latter the other night. But in the ensuing days I also realize that unless I can speed up this healing process and learn how to take care of myself better, I might not make that choice in the future.

So the good of all this, is that I have had a lot of SELF energy in the past two days. The reality of my situation is finally sinking in. No doctors really know how to help me. Nobody really knows what to do. I have to do it myself, with cobbled together support from various people. There's no silver bullet. The meds just don't work. I have to learn and practice the self-care skills, and do the trauma therapy work. And it is a big f*cking slog and scary and exhausting and confusing and takes a long time. But I feel pretty clear now on the intention that I am not yet ready to die. I know I have these parts that flood me a lot. And I need to deal with them. To figure out how to heal them. But I am choosing life and love and connection as much as I possibly can. Because I certainly cannot continue to live the way I have been. Things are getting worse in too many ways, and I'm pretty sure if I don't get it together enough to start taking care of myself better, my physical body will provide something much more dramatic than fibromyalgia or any of the other weird symptoms I've had for three years.

I am grateful to have my family's support, and grateful that I have been lucky enough to connect with both a psychotherapist and a massage/cranial sacral/yoga therapist who are warm and kind and patient people who are also extraordinarily intuitive and who I like a lot. And I am grateful for the friends I have here on the forum.

And now, in the interests of taking care of myself, I am going to go to bed. Read a bit, then sleep. I am reading a GREAT book I just got. I LOVE IT! Called H is for Hawk!

 

[Hope4Now]

This seems to be my week for facing disturbing truths. Like the live or die one I posted about yesterday. I suppose it is a good thing that I am getting increasing clarity. But SHIT! No wonder I just so conveniently denied and dissociated all of this crap for so many years. :yuck::yuck::yuck::yuck::banghead::banghead::banghead::banghead::banghead:x infinity.

Today I ended up doing EXACTLY what I promised myself I would not do. I spent the whole day and all my energy taking my daughter and her friend shopping, and getting ears pierced, and going out to lunch. It was fun and wonderful, and I felt like a good/fun mom for the first time since all this crap brought me down. I even got a few things for me (and got an extra pierce in my own ear to my husband's astonishment :D).

But. It wrecked me. I was able to do so much because I had the scooter and was not in pain. (And wow...taking the scooter out into public for the first time during crazy Christmas at the mall was its own exercise in freakout and overcoming denial). What is flipping me out is that even though I had the scooter, I still got wrecked. It took longer (I NEVER would have been able to do what I did today without the scooter), but shit. Totally wiped out. And realize that my issues are not just related to pain. So probably I have this Chronic Fatigue Syndrome in addition to the Fibro. And then there's all the psych stuff as an extra bonus. Oh My.