ALONE WITH MYSELF

PHOTO BY PATRICIA

Alone with myself, but not lonely. That is the magic of locating my core once again after last week’s separation from it.

A life of searing loneliness healed over time when feeling safe here on the land and in the meadow.

In childhood with repeated, terrifying traumas that went unprocessed, my body stayed on alert, finding everyday events life-threatening.

When real threats occur, it becomes unbearable and sleep issues return. My email was hacked last week, and the thief racked up hundreds of dollars on my account on Amazon.

Along with that the origin family added my name to an email about a dead attacker’s grandsons. They are planning a get-together. Do you really think my inclusion would be any benefit, that my sharing would offer anything positive about their grandfather?

The three remaining brothers want a clan even if needing to pull in those they never met or connected with. None met the grandsons nor had any connection with Chet who died a few years ago. Adding me to the email was insensitive, wounding me, especially when sensing their annoyance for requiring my name be removed from any further correspondence.

After upping my dose of anti-depressant with a smaller increase than before which caused shakiness and nausea, sleep improves. With adequate sleep my body calms allowing me back in my soul where comfort and answers can be found, and the meadow provides healing once again.

BLOSSOMS

The stellar beauty of pinks, and whites against the robin’s egg blue sky is as if from a magical land found in fairy tales, but it is right here, right now!

Photos by Patricia

Finally well rested, with the spring sun too, the ability to sit still with

a relaxed body is a miracle occurring…

MAJESTY

PHOTO BY PATRICIA

Sobbing to Samuel, “I fucked up my body.”

“It’s OK. You can go back down,” he responded compassionately.

At a month video check-up with my doctor, the newly added Zoloft was such a success my thought was more is better, so pushed for a higher dose which made me nauseous and shaky.

Sending her an inner office note she responded quite quickly that it was safe to go back down to 25mg, which is good because that was my intention for that evenings dose.

The little tweak of an anti-depressant added to my medications has allowed for a dramatic increase in my ability to sleep.

Unfortunately, being HUMAN, a mistake was made by asking for more. More is not always better. And if kindness were to be extended to myself, is it so wrong to want good sleep? No.

The harshness bestowed on me, by me, is here to stay, along with daily anxiety. And these things will continue to challenge me and need focus daily.

Life isn’t easy for anyone, but with acceptance of its challenges, the beauty can also be enjoyed. And the beauty as spring unfolds is quite stupendous.

My walks to the creek along the large singing pines brings new delights daily. You never know what splendors will come.

One day three pileated woodpeckers swooped onto the dead tree near-by. They are about a foot long.

The shy heron gracefully landed, also near-by unaware of my presence, and looked for her meal in the water as I stared in wonder.

Our muskrat living in the mud-hole along the creek bank swam by. The bluebirds have taken up residence in the birdhouse at the edge of the water, their brilliant blue backs lighting up in the sunlight.

Each walk in the meadow is an exploration.

A QUIET JOY

Tis glorious to be alive when well rested. The world looks bright, the grass greening daily, the morning birds chirping happily through the open door to the outside.

The bleakness of tiredness washed away with a tiny green pill that is even free. Had I known 15 years ago when sleep deprivation shadowed my days with despair, the last year unbearable. Though a smile was pasted on, many chances of doing the usual fun adventures were cancelled.

But new life breathes back in just as the earth blossoms.  

HAPPY NANA

My birthday weekend came at a time when almost 2 weeks of adequate sleep brought out the real me, a happy that wasn’t forced but natural.

The past several years have been a repeat of one tired day after another, too listless to do much yet trying to keep a brave face along with gratitude during the worst of it.

Yet internally- despair. Hopelessness crawled closer each day as more and more of the dreaded sleep medication was needed to get any sleep at all.

A simple, tiny pill uplifting serotonin levels was all it took to have my life returned to me. The joy shines through sitting by my granddaughter as her kite waved happily in the air with a happy Nana next to her.

COMPASSIONATE SELF-CARE

50 plus degree day, my spirit soars flying high with spring fever while birds galore sing, geese honk, and even the little precious snowdrops have blossomed wide open.

Then 16 degrees, over a 30 degree drop… my mood plummeting with it. This back and forth, from euphoria to depression, juggles me around till May.

Yet its an amazing time, hope filling the dark caverns of my soul. Though freezing days remind me of the hard winter and my dark moods, steadiness glows internally.

Fears still visit like ghosts shrouding a grave. Every few nights when closing my eyes tiny concerns become terrors, one by one they are fought off with the sword of self-compassion, a little whisper, be nice to yourself– a great improvement to the harsh critic. Yet another worry pops up, then another, stirring my heart with a shot of adrenaline. No sleep will come without medication. That is my life now, no fault of my own.

Acceptance comes with more grace and compassionate self-care, rather a miracle after a life looking after others needs neglecting my own.

Life Is Precious

Days after sleep lacking nights feel dull, pitying myself for most of it, having the struggle, needing medication, feeling different, departing from myself as if diseased.

Then 8 solid hours. It is miraculous the way life looks after a good night’s sleep. And being in my body occurs without so much fear. It is fearful though because being all of me means just that, all my experiences run from, because who wants to have been part of my history, memories with all the thoughts, worries, and fears?

It is not surprising that floating into my body only occurs at the safest feeling moments; by the fire after good sleep sipping coffee with kitty next to me, out in the meadow when the pines touch my arm passing by, or sitting by the water hearing the geese honk as other geese fly over signaling THIS SPOT IS TAKEN!

Yet so much of the time fear separates me from myself. It is only when all the parts come together that life feels precious honoring each moment fully.

BUSY HANDS

Brighten the dark days, especially the ones following a rough night. Yet even when adequate sleep comes, the low mood prevails, that dip in fall that must be accepted till spring.

This year it feels more prominent, and that is due to the sicknesses, one after the other. Fear shadows me, thoughts of bodily illnesses, death. We all die, but where has the courage gone that sees me through my days knowing this fact, so cherishing each moment because of it? With the sunshine and long days. But it is coming back, and so will your zest for life.

Keeping my hands busy helps, whether a puzzle or crafts, doesn’t matter, I’m not out to save the world, though I would if I could. My focus is on saving myself, and all else flows from that. It is on to paper woven Easter baskets, blooms, bunnies, and bright green grass.

C-PTSD CAUSES IRRATIC SLEEP

Has my path headed back towards the dark forest of severe sleep issues, or is this just a blip, a detour? A week of the most peaceful slumber, even 9 to 10 some nights which signals how much my body needs it.

Then a night needing medication, but 2 nights later a double dose. Something will set off my mind and body but no matter how intense my investigation is to why, no answers come that feel true.

My first reason is self-blame. My brain and body separated. How could that be my doing? Would it matter to know the real reason if there was one? It cannot be that I want it or do anything to make it happen. Yet there she, casting blame.

What would help most is to cast self-blame out. Acceptance. This is my life, I didn’t choose it, it chose me.

Wrapping my robe around me snuggly, instinct drove to the unusually sunny patio reclining while sun beams warmed in all ways. The repose outshined self-pity which commonly arises after a rough night. Heat hugged in peace.

You Are ENOUGH

Gentleness is the way, harshness hurts. As my body recovers so too my ability to provide gentleness chasing the cruel critic away or shaking hands and calling truce.

The woozy feeling on and off through the day might be the after affect from Covid in September that took 6 weeks before feeling normal.

My new normal? This weaker physical self with shaky hands and woozy head due to long haul Covid, needing to rest, rest, rest?

Kindness. Kindness and care, now more needed due to these issues. Some relief comes from realizing why my body has changed this winter becoming less physically able.

The critic beats me up first thing, ‘You should be more social, see people, be with people.’

Yes, that’s true, yet I didn’t choose this solitary life, it chose me. Keeping distant from crowds, groups, or even outings is due to advancing age and my inability to cope with these things. The upsets caused by outside stimuli needs to be kept at minimum especially since the sleep issues erupted these past 15 years.

We do our best, and I am full force into doing that, often to the detriment of my emotional well-being because I push, push, push. Give yourself praise for all the good things you do and accomplish. That is enough. YOU are enough.