Saturday, August 15, 2020

A brief letter to the Board of Governors of the United States Postal Service

 Dear Sirs,

It is no exaggeration to say that the USPS is now the sole guardian of American democracy. You represent and are the last defense of the Constitution. Without the ability to hold impartial and safe elections the U.S. will go the way of so many other 'democratic' nations where a vote is not a choice but is instead compelled. How you serve the Constitution and the nation it stands for will be remembered by history. Choose wisely. Sincerely,,,,,,

Tuesday, August 11, 2020

A letter to someone who is struggling with CPTSD and recovery.

First off. You are enough. You are worthy of love.

Secondly. Things can get better. And, no, not everyone will leave.

Thirdly. I could have written this post a while ago - and it isn't out of the picture that I might do something like it in the future.

I also have CPTSD. I also never thought I would live to see 30. And yes, I have felt that unfairness, I have railed against it.
I don't know what I can offer you. I wish I could save you, but we both know that filling the void that exists at the very center of our being is something only we can do. I can cheer you on. I can tell you my story, but you must do the work. Which, you already know.

I can tell you this much.
You are still climbing because despite all that crap, despite everything you experienced and suffered, despite all the feelings of loss and emptiness - there is something within you that is stronger than all of that. It is tiny, but that does not mean that it isn't there, nor that it is weak.
You are digging, fumbling to find it. Keep going. It is there.

You may not know it, and you may not feel it, but you have made progress. How can I tell that? By the things you say. You know you have CPTSD. You know your past. You know you want help.
Those are NOT small things. They are a mountain range within themselves. So, don't dismiss the progress you have made by only looking at how far you have to go. You have already run a marathon. Give yourself credit for that.

I'm going to ask some questions. I don't need to know the answers, but they might help.
Is your therapist trained in working with CPTSD?
Is your therapist trained in EMDR?
Personally, I found that EMDR helped - although I felt intensely silly at the time.
If talk therapy (CBT) isn't working - perhaps there is a different type of therapy that could.
And, importantly - there are forms of therapy that do not need to retraumatize you. They are worth a look.

I still have ups and downs. But, now when I have those downs - I can sift what is emotional flashback and the CPTSD talking from my real reaction. That is a huge step forward for me. I'm learning my triggers. That is another important step. I talk about my journey and the bumps and setbacks.

Hang in there.
And remember, seek and you will find.

Tuesday, August 4, 2020

Such a tiny thing, which can seem so very dangerous

Facebook, how you bring all my insecurities to light.
I could hate you for that.
Or I could embrace you.
 I'm not sure which. Check back in an hour.

For me, Facebook is a place where I frequently find instances of "Oh, I still need to work on that." It is, usually, not a comfortable place for me. Like this morning.

Yeah, I stumbled into one of those mental/emotional roadblocks. Well, into --> through --> and down the cliff on the other side. They put those warning signs up for a reason, dontchaknow.

It was a minor thing. Tiny. Inconsequential for any normal human being. But, when you bring the #cptsd into it, things aren't quite so simple. As we are all very aware. 

So this was the little 'game' going around FB this morning.
 Put this as your status (if you want to) and see what people love about you.
 I love your ______

That seems pretty innocuous, right. I was reading what other folks had said to friends, and liking, and laughing and saying 'oh, yeah, right.' Enjoying the exercise.

Then a little voice in my head said: Why don't we do this?

I wasn't ready for the wave that followed that thought. It was almost equal parts, fear, shame, disgust, pain, and avoidance. I wasn't expecting that. As you can tell, I'm still trying to figure it out.

I did it though. I'm terrified of what people will say. I want to crawl away ad hide so that I can let it all roll over me. I'm so afraid that people will say hurtful things - or worse, that they will say nothing.

At this moment I am officially a mess. Trying to be brave and holding all those wounded parts close. Tears still running down my cheeks. The tightness in my chest that will open into a hole.
You know the one. The one at the core of our being that is empty, echoing, and vast beyond measure.

I'm curious. Would you have asked for such a tiny thing, which to someone with cptsd seems so very dangerous?