Recent posts
#1
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by Blueberry - Today at 10:06:29 PMsan, I'm so sorry that your parents treated you so terribly! The mocking, the humiliation! Ugh. Ugh. No wonder you want to puke. I think maybe this is the first time I've read a post of yours about your parents and you as a child where I can feel viscerally the horribleness of it. I'm shaking my head and shuddering the way I was recently about my own stuff. I was mocked a lot in FOO too, humiliated as well, and it's just awful. 
I'm sitting with you at the load of visceral reactions you've been getting today. I used to get a lot more of those too, tons and tons before I learnt to feel my emotions (again? had I ever felt them?)
If it helps in anyway, OT said to me yesterday that one can't do a deep dive the way I had done in my processing w/o any kind of effect/affect(??) on your physical and emotional body. And although you may not feel that you're processing yet, you're beginning to dip your toe in or maybe your whole foot idk and the same applies - you can't do that w/o noticing some effect. There being an effect means you're making progress and something will change in you - I believe this, it's connected to the Window of Tolerance. I wish it were pain-free and caused no exhaustion.
I'm sending you comfort blankets for you to rest and feel safe in, in between the roilings.
Quote from: sanmagic7 on Today at 03:19:56 PMmy gut is roiling right now, tho, so there's something in this, i think. it's ready to go.Sounds to me as if, yeah, that could well be the case. I can well imagine approaching with trepidation - who wants to go thru all that crapola again?? Altho you will go thru it differently now than back then, feeling more possibly - yikes. But that's probably no surprise to you, you know enough about these processes, I believe.
I'm sitting with you at the load of visceral reactions you've been getting today. I used to get a lot more of those too, tons and tons before I learnt to feel my emotions (again? had I ever felt them?)
If it helps in anyway, OT said to me yesterday that one can't do a deep dive the way I had done in my processing w/o any kind of effect/affect(??) on your physical and emotional body. And although you may not feel that you're processing yet, you're beginning to dip your toe in or maybe your whole foot idk and the same applies - you can't do that w/o noticing some effect. There being an effect means you're making progress and something will change in you - I believe this, it's connected to the Window of Tolerance. I wish it were pain-free and caused no exhaustion.
I'm sending you comfort blankets for you to rest and feel safe in, in between the roilings.
#2
Announcements / Re: Technical Issues
Last post by Blueberry - Today at 08:46:26 PMThanks again! Good that OOTF is on it now too.
#3
Please Introduce Yourself Here / Re: Introduction
Last post by Erec - Today at 07:49:38 PMThank you for your words; I am truly sorry for what you've been through.
At the moment, I don't think I'm able to process what has happened to me. I write here sometimes, but I probably should start a new thread.
The truth is, I don't have many people to talk to. Ever since I realized that a simple, inexpensive blood test—if done when my problems first began—would likely have allowed me to have a normal life, people have distanced themselves. 'It is what it is now! Don't think about it,' they tell me. It seems it was easier for them to be kind to me when they thought I had an indecipherable mental problem.
I still have a long fight ahead of me to ensure that what happened is recognized. And I dread to think what they will find if this time, finally, they examine my brain.
It's likely that the effects of a difficult childhood and the genetic issue acted on the same mechanisms, amplifying each other.
It is a difficult time.
At the moment, I don't think I'm able to process what has happened to me. I write here sometimes, but I probably should start a new thread.
The truth is, I don't have many people to talk to. Ever since I realized that a simple, inexpensive blood test—if done when my problems first began—would likely have allowed me to have a normal life, people have distanced themselves. 'It is what it is now! Don't think about it,' they tell me. It seems it was easier for them to be kind to me when they thought I had an indecipherable mental problem.
I still have a long fight ahead of me to ensure that what happened is recognized. And I dread to think what they will find if this time, finally, they examine my brain.
It's likely that the effects of a difficult childhood and the genetic issue acted on the same mechanisms, amplifying each other.
It is a difficult time.
#4
Announcements / Re: Technical Issues
Last post by Kizzie - Today at 06:57:11 PMSo I heard back from our volunteer IT person and he told me OOTF is having the same problem and he is working on figuring out what is going on. Hallelujah say I as I am not the most IT savvy person 
It may take some time so please be patient.
Cheers,
Kizzie
It may take some time so please be patient.
Cheers,
Kizzie
#5
Please Introduce Yourself Here / Re: Hi everyone
Last post by Hope67 - Today at 06:16:14 PMWelcome Bluejayway 
#6
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by NarcKiddo - Today at 04:35:40 PMIt's horrible to wake in a panic. I'm sorry that happened.
I've been meaning to ask how your roller disco outing went. I am guessing you will be going again, given those wonderful-sounding skates you have purchased.
I've been meaning to ask how your roller disco outing went. I am guessing you will be going again, given those wonderful-sounding skates you have purchased.
#7
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by sanmagic7 - Today at 03:19:56 PMthanks, marcine, you made me smile! 
well, therapy, i don't know. i want to blame this on the T but thinking more about it, i believe my mind is simply ready to puke up feelings from the past when triggered. i told her about an incident w/ my folks, she remarked something about how much pain and hurt i must've felt, and i denied that. i felt the pain and hurt of the problem i went to my folks for help with, comfort or something (which didn't happen while i was crying an ocean in front of them - rather my F mocked me, humiliated me, my M stood like a cold stone) my T still isn't getting it that i haven't felt feelings/emotions like most people have.
at any rate, after i ate lunch, my gut got very sore - gut-punched came to mind right there, and maybe that's what it was - and i ended up feeling very sick the entire rest of the day, that night, couldn't sleep well, aches, chills, stress flu kind of stuff, but also this gut thing, which seemed new. been thinking about that ever since. a few weeks ago when i had an overwhelm, it was like a brick in my head. maybe this was a brick in my gut. maybe that's how these pent up feelings are now showing themselves. bricks of dried emotions.
so, i'm feeling better today, but i think i want to do some FLash on myself, focus on that brick - i can still kinda feel it - see what happens. maybe i need to cry. but i do believe i didn't feel it back when it happened cuz i was already overflowing w/ feelings about being lonely, and i think having to feel pain and hurt because of how my parents acted toward me would've been too much. i can already, right now as i'm writing about it, see myself falling to the ground, laying down cuz i can't stay upright under the weight of too much feelings. yeah, a protective device there, working to keep me safe. can't imagine what my F might've said if i'd collapsed under the weight of pain and hurt at that moment.
ok, so i've got my work cut out for me. i'm seeing a pattern, tho - mention feelings that 'should' have been there but that i didn't feel, and my mind is ready to vomit them up, or the aftermath of them, a few hours later. this is not a fun way to live. my gut is roiling right now, tho, so there's something in this, i think. it's ready to go.
well, therapy, i don't know. i want to blame this on the T but thinking more about it, i believe my mind is simply ready to puke up feelings from the past when triggered. i told her about an incident w/ my folks, she remarked something about how much pain and hurt i must've felt, and i denied that. i felt the pain and hurt of the problem i went to my folks for help with, comfort or something (which didn't happen while i was crying an ocean in front of them - rather my F mocked me, humiliated me, my M stood like a cold stone) my T still isn't getting it that i haven't felt feelings/emotions like most people have.
at any rate, after i ate lunch, my gut got very sore - gut-punched came to mind right there, and maybe that's what it was - and i ended up feeling very sick the entire rest of the day, that night, couldn't sleep well, aches, chills, stress flu kind of stuff, but also this gut thing, which seemed new. been thinking about that ever since. a few weeks ago when i had an overwhelm, it was like a brick in my head. maybe this was a brick in my gut. maybe that's how these pent up feelings are now showing themselves. bricks of dried emotions.
so, i'm feeling better today, but i think i want to do some FLash on myself, focus on that brick - i can still kinda feel it - see what happens. maybe i need to cry. but i do believe i didn't feel it back when it happened cuz i was already overflowing w/ feelings about being lonely, and i think having to feel pain and hurt because of how my parents acted toward me would've been too much. i can already, right now as i'm writing about it, see myself falling to the ground, laying down cuz i can't stay upright under the weight of too much feelings. yeah, a protective device there, working to keep me safe. can't imagine what my F might've said if i'd collapsed under the weight of pain and hurt at that moment.
ok, so i've got my work cut out for me. i'm seeing a pattern, tho - mention feelings that 'should' have been there but that i didn't feel, and my mind is ready to vomit them up, or the aftermath of them, a few hours later. this is not a fun way to live. my gut is roiling right now, tho, so there's something in this, i think. it's ready to go.
#8
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by sanmagic7 - Today at 02:56:54 PMhey, hannah1, truthfully, i was exhausted reading your posts. just a thought - are you racing to 'do' things? it felt frantic. maybe it's just me, cuz i tend to be slow-ish about doing things. if that doesn't fit, please ignore. i do like the idea of drawing animals, tho. that sounds both productive and somehow restful at the same time.
reading is what helps me go to sleep at night. i do my screen stuff, sure, but when it's time to sleep the screen goes black and i find a nice, not gory nor too intense, book to read. a fun, light book. something by wodehouse or maeve binchy maybe. just a thought.
i hope you find a balance that fits for you like frank has his own balance. he is a good role model. love and hugs
reading is what helps me go to sleep at night. i do my screen stuff, sure, but when it's time to sleep the screen goes black and i find a nice, not gory nor too intense, book to read. a fun, light book. something by wodehouse or maeve binchy maybe. just a thought.
i hope you find a balance that fits for you like frank has his own balance. he is a good role model. love and hugs
#9
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - Today at 02:21:22 PM I just had my first sleeping flashback last night. It was horrible!
I was dreaming about recounting memories from the time my mother claimed she had been "running a daycare" (she hadn't), when suddenly a memory hit me that was so traumatic that I bolted awake in a terrified full- blown panic. Choking, disoriented, scrambling around my bed desperately trying to get my bearings and willing myself to breathe.
When I recovered to full wakefulness, heart thudding, I went into the computer room to check the time. 0324.
What the heck was *THAT*??
I have no recollection of what I had dreamed. It may have been imagined, the response just somatic.
CWS doesn't have a full accounting of what I had experienced, and apparently I still have events that are repressed.
I was dreaming about recounting memories from the time my mother claimed she had been "running a daycare" (she hadn't), when suddenly a memory hit me that was so traumatic that I bolted awake in a terrified full- blown panic. Choking, disoriented, scrambling around my bed desperately trying to get my bearings and willing myself to breathe.
When I recovered to full wakefulness, heart thudding, I went into the computer room to check the time. 0324.
What the heck was *THAT*??
I have no recollection of what I had dreamed. It may have been imagined, the response just somatic.
CWS doesn't have a full accounting of what I had experienced, and apparently I still have events that are repressed.
#10
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - Today at 01:53:08 PMWell, I slept about an hour.
Kid one drove self to appointment, giving me small reprieve.
I'm back to wanting to stay in bed. I'm not even tired. It's just bed feels safer.
It can feel impossible to find the gearshift inside. I know once I'm out I'll feel good. Yet part of me perversely wants to watch the day go by and just pretend I don't exist.
It's so strange because this is a new behavior of the last 3-4 years. I never did this.
I know it's pointless to try to figure it out, that's just another way to avoid getting up and doing.
I'm trying to create some accountability here. It seems impossible to admit to anyone "I'm stuck in bed." There's no one I can call and say, "I haven't fallen, but I can't get up."
Part of me just doesn't want to go on with anything. Valid. It was a brutal five years. And before that wasn't easy. Before that, I was doing all of this, so that I wouldn't have a brutal five years. The brutal five years was a blow to the ego, the part of me that thought if I worked nonstop, did all the healing things, was a "good person," I would suffer less. I would succeed, ish. Somewhat succeed. Those I loved most would be safe. Nope.
So now that part of me, that did all the things, just won't do. Because the deal got broken.
I have other parts that will do. Want to do. Want to return a sweater, go to PT, pet Frank. Frank is winding down for the day, circling on his carpet to make a nest to flop into. In an hour, he'll be deep asleep, one eye on the carpet, one eye staring at the ceiling. He mostly sleeps with his eyes partly open. It's freaky. But he's so trusting now that even when I tiptoe by, he may roll his eye toward me, but immediately he goes blank again, back to sleep. He no longer jumps up as soon as my toe touches the floor from three rooms away.
I need to regain my trust, too. Somehow. Trust not to go to sleep, but trust to get up. Get out. Live.
I'm so frustrated to keep ending up back in this emotional space. I keep wondering if it could be some kind of flashback. Feeling like I'm the only person alive on the planet, feeling surreal. Wanting time to go by, pretending I'm not here. Enjoying noticing time passing, gleefully noticing the day is almost gone and I've not existed. Refusal to participate in life, a protest of sorts, a last stand. But I dunno. I can't find any time in the past that's like this. It must just be a part, an emotional state, like a freeze or a submit state. I guess it's submit. I never did submit, LOL. So, it's new. I ran out of fight, and there was nowhere to run to in the pandemic. I was the parent. I had to stay. I had to fight. And then, I just ran out of all of it.
Submit is vaguely pleasant and alluring. So easy to just sink into it. I have to find my fight again. Or find some other way to move forward that isn't fight. I'm trying to find a way to move that's love, want, desire. I am trying to find things to want, to make life worth living, to overcome this submit state. I desire brown wool trousers. I desire to roll the cuffs. I want snakeskin shoes. I want to paint in a light filled place. I deeply desire to sit next to a pig on a cloudy day. I want to feel my muscles. I want to pay $100 to learn to workout on a Pilates reformer machine that I saw online. I want to wear a man's blazer. It seems frivolous, it seems too light, airy. These wants are unnecessary, self-centered, pointless. What difference does it make if I roll my cuffs or sit with a pig? But I have no fight left. I have to make the wants bigger than the failure of fight/flight, bigger than the freeze/submit. I have to make my wants substantial, so they hold me up when I walk on them, walk across them to the world of things. I don't know what else to do.
It would help if I had community. If I were a nun in a cell, and everyone was in chapel, would I lie in bed? maybe. Maybe I'm kidding myself. I do think body doubling helps. Entraining off another's energy, the energy of two or three is bigger than the energy of one, the sum is greater than the parts. If everyone is going to Pilates class, it's easier to go. It's easier to do Pilates in a room full of people doing Pilates than to lie on my floor by myself and do Pilates. I want to continue to find communities. People to paint with, people to do Pilates with, going to the gym and nodding at the gym bro, sitting with the pig in his pig field. I need Pilates, I need people, I need pigs.
I did my life alone. I need not to be alone now. Maybe wanting is enough. Frank goes about his little routine with deep seriousness. He never lies in bed. If it's time to sleep, he sleeps, but when it's time to wake, he's washing his ears, his big hind foot, he's studiously ripping up the carpet when it's carpet ripping time and when it's time to eat hay he devotes himself to the task. He wants to wash. He wants to rip. He wants to eat. And he does. Maybe wanting is the instinctual drive to live, and I just have to keep cultivating it. The drive to live is different than the drive to survive. Maybe I just have to learn to live. Frank, help me. Frank guide me on the way. Frank forgive me. Frank give me my daily dose of desire, and hop with me on the way.
Kid one drove self to appointment, giving me small reprieve.
I'm back to wanting to stay in bed. I'm not even tired. It's just bed feels safer.
It can feel impossible to find the gearshift inside. I know once I'm out I'll feel good. Yet part of me perversely wants to watch the day go by and just pretend I don't exist.
It's so strange because this is a new behavior of the last 3-4 years. I never did this.
I know it's pointless to try to figure it out, that's just another way to avoid getting up and doing.
I'm trying to create some accountability here. It seems impossible to admit to anyone "I'm stuck in bed." There's no one I can call and say, "I haven't fallen, but I can't get up."
Part of me just doesn't want to go on with anything. Valid. It was a brutal five years. And before that wasn't easy. Before that, I was doing all of this, so that I wouldn't have a brutal five years. The brutal five years was a blow to the ego, the part of me that thought if I worked nonstop, did all the healing things, was a "good person," I would suffer less. I would succeed, ish. Somewhat succeed. Those I loved most would be safe. Nope.
So now that part of me, that did all the things, just won't do. Because the deal got broken.
I have other parts that will do. Want to do. Want to return a sweater, go to PT, pet Frank. Frank is winding down for the day, circling on his carpet to make a nest to flop into. In an hour, he'll be deep asleep, one eye on the carpet, one eye staring at the ceiling. He mostly sleeps with his eyes partly open. It's freaky. But he's so trusting now that even when I tiptoe by, he may roll his eye toward me, but immediately he goes blank again, back to sleep. He no longer jumps up as soon as my toe touches the floor from three rooms away.
I need to regain my trust, too. Somehow. Trust not to go to sleep, but trust to get up. Get out. Live.
I'm so frustrated to keep ending up back in this emotional space. I keep wondering if it could be some kind of flashback. Feeling like I'm the only person alive on the planet, feeling surreal. Wanting time to go by, pretending I'm not here. Enjoying noticing time passing, gleefully noticing the day is almost gone and I've not existed. Refusal to participate in life, a protest of sorts, a last stand. But I dunno. I can't find any time in the past that's like this. It must just be a part, an emotional state, like a freeze or a submit state. I guess it's submit. I never did submit, LOL. So, it's new. I ran out of fight, and there was nowhere to run to in the pandemic. I was the parent. I had to stay. I had to fight. And then, I just ran out of all of it.
Submit is vaguely pleasant and alluring. So easy to just sink into it. I have to find my fight again. Or find some other way to move forward that isn't fight. I'm trying to find a way to move that's love, want, desire. I am trying to find things to want, to make life worth living, to overcome this submit state. I desire brown wool trousers. I desire to roll the cuffs. I want snakeskin shoes. I want to paint in a light filled place. I deeply desire to sit next to a pig on a cloudy day. I want to feel my muscles. I want to pay $100 to learn to workout on a Pilates reformer machine that I saw online. I want to wear a man's blazer. It seems frivolous, it seems too light, airy. These wants are unnecessary, self-centered, pointless. What difference does it make if I roll my cuffs or sit with a pig? But I have no fight left. I have to make the wants bigger than the failure of fight/flight, bigger than the freeze/submit. I have to make my wants substantial, so they hold me up when I walk on them, walk across them to the world of things. I don't know what else to do.
It would help if I had community. If I were a nun in a cell, and everyone was in chapel, would I lie in bed? maybe. Maybe I'm kidding myself. I do think body doubling helps. Entraining off another's energy, the energy of two or three is bigger than the energy of one, the sum is greater than the parts. If everyone is going to Pilates class, it's easier to go. It's easier to do Pilates in a room full of people doing Pilates than to lie on my floor by myself and do Pilates. I want to continue to find communities. People to paint with, people to do Pilates with, going to the gym and nodding at the gym bro, sitting with the pig in his pig field. I need Pilates, I need people, I need pigs.
I did my life alone. I need not to be alone now. Maybe wanting is enough. Frank goes about his little routine with deep seriousness. He never lies in bed. If it's time to sleep, he sleeps, but when it's time to wake, he's washing his ears, his big hind foot, he's studiously ripping up the carpet when it's carpet ripping time and when it's time to eat hay he devotes himself to the task. He wants to wash. He wants to rip. He wants to eat. And he does. Maybe wanting is the instinctual drive to live, and I just have to keep cultivating it. The drive to live is different than the drive to survive. Maybe I just have to learn to live. Frank, help me. Frank guide me on the way. Frank forgive me. Frank give me my daily dose of desire, and hop with me on the way.