I M Perfect lady

Tag: stress

  • Going Back, Willingly.

    One of my personality traits isn't really a trait, but a side affect of being abused…while I have heard the term Post traumatic Stress disorders, I hadn't considered myself out of order, when in certain situations, it clearly is so.

    What is witnessed as being out of control, is actually me grasping control of the situation and reality, so I don't get 'abused again'…I have a hair trigger where power seekers, offenders, liars, false promisers, people who always hand out the short end of the stick, etc are concerned.

    I can smell the hint of offensive behavior, words and false promises a mile away and I cut them off at the pass.  I clearly state without a smidgen of wiggle room, the swindle they are trying to slip by me.

    This can lead to loud outbursts, but with a very clear intent on my part as to what I will and what I will not accept.

    My boundaries which in the past were non-existent, are now like an electric fence.

    Without a boundary fence, people could do and say pretty much anything without 'getting a rise' out of me, in fact I was considered pretty laid back and hard to 'ruffle'…and I considered that too a personality trait, when it was actually a signal of No boundaries.

    Normal has to lie between the two…a bridge that isn't so igniting or completely shut down.

    Will I ever be labeled as normal, or is my 'electric' reaction normal for me?

    My husband has alluded to the fact that it is now normal for me to react with precision and zero in on any hint of abuse, albeit sexual, physical, emotional…I am on it and refuse to let it go.

    There is no almost abuse, or a 'little' lie, or loving control or friendly manipulation.  I see abuse as abuse; whether it is a seed just sprouting or a life times worth.  I am abuse detector and my alarms go off.

    My body comes alive and alert and intensely focused to do battle with whom ever is trying to steal my power or that of someone I love…whereas in the past all my signals were disconnected or I overrode them by disengaging them around 'family'.

    For now it seems to me that this new reaction is my body learning how to respond in a new way to an old dance.  It is me even learning to trust that I can say what I need to say, but not have 40 years of submission bursting forth to 'tell 'em off'….

    I can't know how long I will be considered Post Traumatic…or if this is what they call a chronic condition…but if I had to pick to either be totally shut down or completely tuned in….I will take the later.

    My Post Traumatic Stress disorder, my sometimes verbally attacking response, is me fighting back against abuse…it is me gaining my power, using my words, standing up with shaky guts facing the controlling powers that be.

    Even if I do it without the grace and dignity that others seem to have, at least I am no longer a silent unmoving victim.

    What just came to me is that I would shoot wildly at innocent targets, for I didn't know the real source of where my power was leaking…I had mistakenly believed that anyone I couldn't control was stealing my power. When in fact, anyone who controlled me was stealing my power.

    It isn't about the people I control, but about the people who control me.

    What I have learned is that there will be lines after lines of people who want to control you, and it is up to you to say no.

    And If you say No, and they don't hear it, disregard it…what they are wanting most is to control you.  "No is a complete sentence" says Oprah.

    Any time you are not able to say no, your power is gone.

    Yes and No are the swinging doors to freedom…if all that is accepted is a yes, you are with someone who is controlling you.

    I can smell the teeniest hints of only one choice or no choice….and I burst forth knowing the cage is about to settle down upon me.

    I remember the caged feeling and I go beserk….Post Traumatic, I have been there before and have no intention of going back, willingly.

     

     

     

  • A Stress Gatherer

    I had a conversation with a woman who does massages, and she shared that sometimes while massaging a body, it will release sorrow.  She also knows that there are oils that will help the body release emotional stress from the body.

     

    I had wondered out loud, how that would be to have the body release things without the self knowing the story or history of the stress….like crying for no reason.

     

    This reminded me of how I had cried for hours while driving home from Green Bay the summer before my father's secret became known.  How I had no reason in the world to cry, yet cry I did.  And it wasn't just silent tears flowing, but racking sobs.  Yet in my head or thoughts, nothing was there to support the sorrow.

     

    If my father's story hadn't come forth, I would have just had this mysterious event, isolated from my 'normal' life an oddity…sorrow out of nowhere and attached to nothing, a rogue wave of immense sorrow…leaving my body.

     

    Now that I know my history, it does makes sense.  

     

    That leaves me to wonder about making the body cry or releasing sorrow without knowing why, without the background story?

    Will the body be less stressed?  Or will the crying jag make you wonder where the unease comes from?

    Very interesting to me to hear the body can release without the mind or consciousness knowing the cause.

     

    In yoga, often times when my body is particularly sore or perhaps even after going deep into postures, I will express tears.

    Yet, I know that I have had childhood sexual abuse, that is my root and it is lodged in the cells of my body…so it makes sense for me.

     

    To me, it just seems better knowing what you are crying about…than to release tears in the body without knowing why.

     

    If I had just released in the body, my body would continue to gather stress as I continued with my old life.  For I would have been in the same dysfunctional relationships, operating with the same thoughts and beliefs that grew from dysfunction. So, while a massage can rid the body of stress, it can't stop the body from going back and gathering more stress for there is no new awareness.

     

    Perhaps massage, oils, and yoga is best used when you know your root source…when you are discovering your history.

     

    Otherwise you again, are crying for no reason….at least no reason that you know of.

     

    And if you don't know what you are doing to cause stress in your body, you will continue to be the stress magnet and the massages will be endless.

     

    Getting down to the root source, to me, is the only way to stop being a stress gatherer.

     

     

  • The Only Place I Can Be.

    I am wondering about the Bug called Worry and how it can bite at anytime, how it can sneak up and take you out of any enjoyment you may be experiencing or perhaps not even let you go to enjoyment, instead you dance and waltz with Worry.

    My brother spoke of a Panic Attack, would this be an attack from the Worry Bug?

    That out of nowhere this bug sneaks in and steals your peace, attacking this moment of time?

    When I found myself right side up in what felt like my upside down world, it was a world that opposed what the bug dreamed up.

    It seemed like there were two worlds, the Mind Bug and Reality.

    This Mind/Worry Bug was relentless, and what I did was to take that bug and slam it with Reality over and over again, showing it what is.

    I literally had to put pen to paper to see what this Damn Bug wanted me to do.

    Mostly it pulled me away from my life and into lives I had no control over, it ripped me away from my peaceful home doing what I loved to do, to go into someone’s life I had no business being in. It painted people in colors that were so off color from what they were actually like and then had me worrying about letting them go.

    Maybe its nickname could also be Meddling or Hell.

    Even today I may take a quick trip with it and see a future fear or horrid life, a sad and lonely existence, but it feels so bad, I yank myself back and hold on to something in my nowadays world.

    If you had to pick this Worry Bug out of a lineup what would it look like, where does it live, how does it operate and who invented this???

    I am sure some religions call this Bug the Devil.

    What I think it is an untrained mind. A mind that is totally out of your control and one that hates reality.

    This bug lives anywhere but in the here and now.

    In the past six years I have been treating this mind like an unruly child, and find that I can oppose many of its thoughts and when it comes in and tromps into a moment of enjoyment, I can listen for a moment, but can make the choice as to what to believe.

    As a woman who lived for many years in the land of pretend, I find great comfort and peace in the land called reality.

    It is here that the Bug has a hard time beating; it usually falls down when faced with what is.

    Byron Katie says, “Reality wins only but 100% of the time!”

    I welcome this bug into my reality, but I usually have a dialogue with it before I head out into the land of unknown.

    When I find myself powerless, stressed and out of sorts, you can be damn sure that the Mind/Worry Bug has led me astray from reality.

    What I do to bring me back is grab on to anything that I can hold onto and be with my breath. For where my breath is the bug can’t be.

    Where am I breathing, who is here now, what is going on, feeling my reality as a blind person uses Braille; I settle back into Now.

    For Now…is the only place I can be.

  • Almost Ruined Christmas

    This Christmas finds me in a different spot, a place of being too tired to care about Christmas, where joy and love and peace would be found not having Christmas.

    It isn’t so much Christmas itself, but that I am the one to create the Christmas feeling and I am too tired to be of good cheer.

    It is like Santa lost his jolly.

    The desire and spirit within me has faltered along with my lost energy, and I feel the weight of responsibility to carry it all.

    Not sure why, perhaps because in the past I had the time and the know how, I simply did it.

    Now that woman is gone, she went to work.

    She is unavailable to whip up Christmas on the side.

    And I feel the pressure to bake, not the joy.
    I feel forced to do things I used to enjoy.
    It isn’t pleasure now, but added work.

    I found myself unprepared.

    Maybe it is time for traditions to change or be passed on.

    Fighting with, instead of succumbing to, what is.

    Letting go of orchestrating the family Christmas and bringing in new recruits.

    My new santa makers leave everything til the last, for there are still four days, I was told yesterday. I guess in a young person’s eyes, that is a long time.

    I think I will have to re-adjust my way of doing Christmas, it will be more inclusive and I will take a back seat.

    I just can’t lose my spirit for Christmas.

    Instead I will change the traditions, letting many of them go, bring in simpler things that keep the spirit alive.

    After all, a cookie is a cookie, and it is insane to think it will matter if it arrives or not for Christmas.

    So, we will be joyful with whatever we accomplish in the next three days. I must relax and let the it be as it will be.

    It will be much better than having a grumpy lady in our home for Christmas.

    And let me tell you, I was grumpy last night trying to be a Christmas baker after a long heavy day of mail.

    No more.

    We now have some grumpy cookies and if that is all that happens I am fine.

    Much better to be happy than grumpy with the trimmings.

    The trimmings got a hold of me and almost ruined Christmas.

  • Christmas Joys

    My Christmas’s of old had a huge agenda to fulfill, they had to bring magic and make belief, and they had to make me feel better. It was like waiting for the elixir or medicine bringing love, peace and joy.

    Waiting for a gift that would change my life or a gift from the least likely person, great changes hung in the air.

    The season of Christmas had the power to make right a life that was way off kilter.

    Or the feverish hope that if I could create the perfect Christmas season, life would fall into place.

    Christmas had a sleigh load of expectations, loaded up by me.

    Yesterday, I felt the absence of this manic desire, it seemed that Christmas had lost its fever.

    It was like my life no longer needed this magic, that Christmas or no Christmas I was way okay.

    I am not in the need of gifts that shout, “I love You,” or trees that must hold the joy of the season, or that the stockings are hung, pleading for attention.

    There doesn’t seem to be anything missing in my life that Christmas can fulfill.

    The Christmas tree stands alone in its glory, smelling delicious with ornaments from years long ago, a bright presence of joy, matching joys I have inside.

    Whether I bake Christmas goodies or not, my home will maintain its steady calm atmosphere, relaxed and homey.

    It was shocking and delightful to know that there wasn’t anything we needed to make this season bright.

    The brightness of the season lives here all year long.

    The contrast between the two Christmases is unreal.

    To add Christmas to life that was so upside down is like adding a bow to confusion and expecting it to unravel like magic.

    What a wonderful feeling to have a Christmas without an agenda, to just be with the Christmas joys…

  • Tiny Little Wave that Arrives.

    The hardest thing to do is relax in the midst of what feels like a rough day, and it is if you clump it all together, but if you can break it apart into little tiny moments, of just doing this moment, stay with this breath in time, it works out much better.

    As I walk into the Post Office and survey the mounds of mail and packages, it seems overwhelming. And then add on the weather, the fluffy blowing piling up snow, plus dressing for the winter beauty, and then moving around all that mail, I could sit down and sob.

    Each second of time by itself isn’t overwhelming, but if you try to live all the seconds at once it is.

    When I get ahead of myself, when I am sorting and worrying about the roads, if this driveway will be accessible, will they all fit in the jeep, will I find it when I need it, will I finishing sorting in time, will my body take another tray of mail…and on it goes.

    But if I stand with the one letter I have, and find its place…If I stand with this one mailbox, this one package, this tiny part of my day, I am successful and its being successful a million times a day, that my day is complete or a success.

    I even have piled up all the days between now and Christmas into one big ocean, instead of staying with this wave in time.

    “I can do this second” is what I have to remind myself, and to stay with it, that if for some reason I can’t, it is then that I can start to worry, but not a second before.

    And maybe I am successful at failing to deliver!

    What I have learned most is that when I get ahead of where I am, I feel overwhelmed, if I stay in the present I am okay.

    Breathe and do what needs to be done in this second.
    And when the next second comes, live that one.

    Life isn’t one big ocean of time, it is this tiny little wave that arrives!

  • One Posture at a time.

    It is here, I am half way done with the 60-day challenge, which means I got up 30 days in a row and did yoga, which to me is amazing.

     

    I felt good today doing the yoga, I was stronger in some places, less wobbly, and was able to hold the postures longer.

     

    I watched for resistance, and found some in weird places, just odd little muscles holding back.

     

    My shoulder muscles for sure seem always to be zapping up energy in postures where they are not required. 

     

    Also, my jaw muscles want to get involved, and they are in the way in Rabbit and actually when relaxed make my breathing easier and fuller.

     

    My shoulders, neck and jaw are the three places where I stored all my resentment and stress.

     

    It is odd, that my upper body was bracing and feels stiff, and my lower body is slack and yielding and weak.

     

    I am thinking as my legs walk my truth as I lock my knees against things that are not good for me, this will balance out.  And then my shoulders can relax and as long as I speak my truth, my jaw doesn’t have to clench in frustration.

     

    I told those muscles to relax now, that I had a better grasp on life, and that they no longer had to stand guard against things I didn’t pay attention to.

     

    It is like my body has been bracing itself for the next assault; knowing that I would go against the body to help/be/do for the others good, not mine.

     

    Like any broken relationship it takes time to mend and build trust, but we can one posture at a time.

     

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