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[why]

Boatsetsailrose asked: "Would u like to share about your forest?"

Somewhere between the Atlantic and Pacific but it resembles your dream of Scotland when you say: "...being with the dark nights and the stars...And being with the trees and maybe seeing an eagle - if love to see an eagle." That's my daily experience.

Indeed, I'm in a 'green, dark forest too silent to be real', to borrow a line from an old song. It's isolated--but I wanted it that way. Eagles, bears, deer, owls, fox, fishers, martens, coyotes or wolves (they kind of swap territories some years; I prefer the 'yotes, they're much better singers, especially in chorus!).

There's humans about the area, even a nearby indoor/outdoor theatre setup I was once employed by and where I still have some slight involvement. Much of the population here consists of summer residents from metro areas with lake cottages scattered around the many lakes. The year-round residents include a sizable "first nations/native" contingent.

Been here 40 years, had doubts about being so alone until I'd remember why I did this...the cptsd footprints are all over the why I chose this path, and I finally accepted that the pluses outweighed the minuses. There's several large wilderness areas and pristine rivers nearby. Not to say I'll stay here; just 99% sure it's probably going to be the case.

The good--peace, quiet, beauty. Media? Lots of good radio, actually. Tons to read--my book collection is bigger than many small town libraries (and I don't have to drive to 'em ).

The not-so-good--hard to find accessible friends; had 4 who died couple years ago. They found me, as I don't reach out (classic cptsd freeze type). Inability to trust, all that.

What some would insist is lonely is just part of the equation--I needed it when I came here, still feel I do. I used to get out to different places, as I was also an actor--spent several winters in a city, then here in the summer. Like the cultural stuff available in cities, so it's a trade-off. City life might be nice in some respects--used to travel to find T's there (had 9, I think); on the other hand, living here constitutes a sort of on-going therapy all by itself. Couple T's even inquired if I'd ever rent to other clients they had.

So I'll stop, but my forest life is...different. My only surprise might be how pervasive the cptsd stuff has been; there's drawbacks to any paradise, it seems.

I've found it helpful to use imagery or symbolism to aid the process of getting in touch with my inner self. 

One favourite symbol involves a  a word-picture I kind of tuck in my heart somewhere for when I need a little boost. I've camped lots, and have often used what's known as a candle-lantern. It's tin or brass, with a door inside which the candle is placed. There's tiny piercings all around the tin exterior, so even with the door shut and the wind howling, enough air gets in to keep the candle lit. Of course, if it's calm enough, you can fully open the door and enjoy the peaceful light.

The candle represents the spirit/soul/inner self, whatever it's called; with the lantern's door shut, even the fiercest storm can't extinguish it.

So light your candle, tuck it inside the lantern, close the door; and know it's always there and can't blow out, as in fact you are that protected candle.

I have other symbols and metaphors, but that one helps lots when I'm really down. It'd be fun to hear of a symbol/metaphor that's helped you "weather the storm."

Below is a pic of the lantern.

 

[being]

My heart sings to:
...Celtic/folk music;
...some classical music;
...creating good vibes for someone via words/actions/music;
...sharing information/insight/wisdom with someone;
...wilderness, esp. forests/rivers;
...books
...peaceful ambiance/passionate equanimity

So what makes my heart sing may be more about being than doing and/or a combo of the doing springing from the being.

"If you travel far enough, one day you will recognize yourself coming down the road to meet yourself. And you will say—YES!"
--Marion Woodman

Boatsetsailrose wrote: "I...get fed up with 'working on myself ' and at these times I want to add insult to injury and use something to numb;" and "when I look objectively I seem like an empty shell who is in distress ..."

That's a tendency I have, especially after the 'working on myself' part unravels. I want to understand so much, and kind of wander shotgun around this/that/other and frustrate myself, when the reality is probably I'm just tired of the whole trip. "Empty shell" is an apt description for something so indecipherable.

Afterwards, I realize this was an opening and it's okay. It's okay to pull back, forget about this elusive search for self. Notice I said afterwards, 'cause I get so frantic while in search mode I forget the open part. Open implies space, and it doesn't need immediate filling. That's usually my realization later; unfortunately it doesn't always match the reality at the time it goes off the rails.

For me, it's that okay realization that's made some difference. Judging myself at having missed the boat on this self-understanding business doesn't help. Maybe the numbness is really an invitation to relax, put the books back for a while, stop analyzing my journals, and just be; no judgements, just be, just let stuff happen. Speaking of books, though, I'm reminded of a favourite which is titled simply "The Importance of Being Idle." Yep.

Southbound wrote: "...it's hard to know when to stop when we get fired up about something."

This may be a little off the freeze/dissociation thread's theme, but these "cross-fire" questions do pop up within disparate topics. So slightly out-of-place or not, here's my take on length of posts.

In my case, I always start with an intent to be brief, but my life story started in an atmosphere of constant misunderstanding (some deliberate; some not so much; all abusive in nature). As I've gone through life, I've carrried this fear of being misunderstood, and probably reflect that. Trying to "twitterize" is impossible for me, as is soundbite-style rapid-fire speech (unless I'm performing as an actor and the script calls for it).

That's the crux of it for me...I worry about being heard; but then more so about was I truly understood. That's all (whew!).

Thanks for the video link, Laynelove. Her summary touches on the key, that we can access the awareness/mindfulness/presence that Walker indicates is very doable for the freeze-dominated type. Realizing what's happening, appreciating why one's having difficulty with it, and living around, within, and through the situation, from major life decisions to taking the next step.

The anxiety doesn't disappear, but being mindful of it might allow one to do things they didn't think they could. Temporarily at least, but perhaps longer. It's a little deceptive, though, as it takes loads of patience to get to a comfortable level with it.

Does it always work? Not at all--name me a fool-proof method and it would be way cool. In my own case, I turned down lucrative-sounding jobs and money based on my freeze instincts--I was aware they weren't what I needed. Was I wrong? Maybe, maybe not. Depends on what one's trying to achieve...in my case, that was always what I considered most peaceful. I've had blowhards convinced that's my cover/camouflage right there, but to me it only shows their own covert way to invalidate my life. This society is so full of opinions presented as facts rather than as...opinions (surprise!). Crazy.

    :and , Laynelove. Loved this take from your commentary:

"I think it is dangerous to label freeze type as another 'disorder' that we need to 'cure'. The brain repeats things that it finds pleasurable. Chronic daydreaming and dissociating from the world via fantasy is more pleasurable than feeling painful feelings."

I'm speaking as a classic freezer, per Walker's description. And I don't feel defensive about it. I have, actually; 'cause there have been several who consider it a problem. Well, guess what, it saved my life to follow that path, and I find it laughable to think of it as some problem that I must solve or sink beneath the waves of normality.

Saved my life? Hey, I was so depressed when a kid I wanted to end it, saw no way out. But I found a way, and while I'm sure some crackfire T would love to label me a poor freeze sort/avoidant/daydreamer/escapist/etc./ad infinitum I'll just say it again: saved my life to be this way.

I literally live in the woods. I came here 40 years ago, found I could at least live with myself; and yes, I was escaping from a horrid life, no ifs/ands/buts. I live in a hand-hewn self-built house that's a work of art. Speaking of labels, I didn't come here as a back-to-the-land nature freak, but as a confused human looking for himself, seeking only to find the PEACE denied him by people who nearly destroyed his will to live. Survived, and did alright by anyone's standards (and no, I don't mean money, it was never my consideration other than to have enough).

I created an artistic career that brought me in touch with people. I still can't fully trust anyone, but I've worked with lots and spoken to thousands of people, acted as mentor and teacher to many along the way.

And yes I'm that terrible varmint known as a hermit--which doesn't mean someone who sits in the woods and lives in regret. I have plenty, and I can trigger at the slightest mention or memory, and certain people and situations almost always end up in an EF episode. I can't sleep many nights when the memories crash. I'm still learning to live with the downside, but there's enough upside to almost make me proud to be a freeze or whatever the label has to be.

I think a lot of people must miss Walker's positive treatment of the different responses to cptsd. Check out pages 106-107 and those around it and you'll find all sorts of upsides to each condition. As a freeze, I know I've loads of mindfulness--if it came about as a reaction to the bad stuff, well it obviously took a good turn--people pay huge sums for mindfulness training, I find it just a part of my makeup. Should I feel bad for that?

Walker lists awareness, presence, and my life's dream--PEACE--as positive characteristics for freeze sorts. I'll take it. Yes, I've literally hidden here; yes, I can easily dissociate; I sure am a hermit, but I've also been very sociable in my profession when I had to be and creative as * in living despite the obstacles of the "disorder".

Walker does note that freeze types can become quite content with their condition. Really--that's a problem?

Laynelove added: "You should look at freeze type as an addiction not a disorder." I'd toss out addiction and replace with something like creative passion for life. It's just a choice that, in my case, I felt compelled to take. Maybe I'll have to write a book--"The Freeze's Manifesto" or something .

So yes, I have huge problems. But I also did something with what was dumped on me. Yes, it's hard to get a grip on dealing with people, and my trust level still rests towards the bottom on any scale. It's hard to motivate myself to do things; but I've certainly done lots--I've won awards for, gulp, working with kids. I don't call it recovery, just fortitude in distress. Recovery? I don't see it as a prospect, and no longer worry about it...Acceptance of what I can/can't do is more important.

So next time someone admires how I live, alone and in the woods, and admires what I've done, I'm not about to correct 'em and say "but don't you know, I'm one of those poor freeze types? The ones that cause therapists to furrow their brows and pull sad faces." Yeah, right.

I know, another long post but it's obviously something that stirs me. Still here, still working, but also dreaming, fantasizing a way to be a part of this world as best I can. Blinded by tears sometimes, lots of cptsd-remnant pain, but it's been a good life too. As Laynelove points out, it's good to remind ourselves sometimes.

Your experience reminded me of what's called kundalini. While I've read about it, I can't say I've experienced it, but I really don't know either...I think I may have, but either didn't realize it at the time or ignored it; or was even scared of it. Either way, and FWIW, here's a description of it:

"Kundalini, in yogic theory, is a primal energy, or shakti, located at the base of the spine. Different spiritual traditions teach methods of 'awakening' kundalini for the purpose of reaching spiritual enlightenment. Kundalini is described as lying 'coiled' at the base of the spine, represented as either a goddess or sleeping serpent waiting to be awakened. In modern commentaries, Kundalini has been called an unconscious, instinctive or libidinal force, or 'mother energy or intelligence of complete maturation'."

Another description puts it this way:

"Kundalini is an energy that exists in everyone's body, usually in a dormant state. This means that most people never feel it and never know it is there. But in a very few people, perhaps one in one thousand, this energy becomes aroused, activated. This can be a happy event or it can be scary and disruptive, depending on whether you aroused your kundalini on purpose or by accident."

Here's what you said: "a powerful energy uncoiled in my pelvis shooting right up into my skull." You added: "Thinking about this, she felt old, ancient even.  The strange thing is, I have always felt old, mature beyond years. With it, there is this depressing awareness of the way things are, and that changes nothing.  I felt born with this."

Again, I'm no expert in this, but just saying that your description reminded me instantly of this energy called kundalini--it probably sounds more exotic than it is. The inner child implications are of course implicit and certainly can be a part of it, I surmise.

Take good care of that inner child, no matter how you've accessed it.

Goals? Good question.

I once thought my primary goal might be not to have goals. To live in flow with what my life's needs are, not against them; even when I don't know exactly what they are. Goals are eerily absolute, when they have specific expectations built in. Then they're set up for failure...instead we journey and find our way, regardless of the finite goal we thought we were looking for. Flexible goals/expectations--maybe that's what I'm suggesting. I mean, en route to the goal one might just discover an even better way. 

That said, I've an inner goal that tugs deeply at my sense of being. That's to stop doubting that I'm worthy of...anything, I guess. I feel so useless, stupid, and shut out of even wanting to try anymore. Worn out. Hating myself.

Another elusive goal is more a wish...that I can dare to feel again. I remember one T who spent hours asking me, pleading with me, "how does it feel?" I resisted, 'cause I didn't dare to follow her prompt; feared I would lose it, be drowned in all the shame and hurt that had brought me to seek her help in the first place. Maybe now I'll find that way to feel. Huge goal, and I need to drop my blocks for the wish to free me from all this pain. 

Feeling, and accepting, whatever I find. I'm still scared of the deluge of tears, anger, grief that seem to weigh so heavy. I'm slowly accepting the possibility that I can indeed find peace. Come to think of it, peace has ever/always been my only real quest, and that just might be my absolute, truest, goal.   

Tired said: "I am good at talking with adult logic but not at raw emotion."

Same here--and I second what Indigo said about the difficulty of getting to the feeling part. I also know I'm what Walker in his book calls the freeze sort. But like he also says, it takes lots of grief and anger to work one's logic to a point where one can feel it, too.

At first, expressing anger seemed silly. I mean, I live alone. Very alone; isolated alone; in the boondocks alone. But I have the memories, often have bad dreams, and loads of pain, so I started raging at the characters that I found there--the abusers. Silly, illogical, odd; but nonetheless I felt better. Nicely offsets the logic. I don't want any more smarts, analysis--I want to feel. The grieving I've been doing for decades, but in an offhanded way, too.

At the risk of sounding "logical", my hangup to the anger part was a remnant of the dire consequences from all the old stuff that started the cycle in the first place. I guess another good anger valve was via this site; finally I could express, despite my doubts in doing so, some rage among others who "get it" and won't condemn me.

For me, the takeaway is self-compassion. Un-learning the self-hate that rattled me this whole life. So far.

 

Arpy1, I'm glad you're turning one corner; there will be more, but you're also better equipped to handle them now. Indeed, you seem to know you have to, as it's all about your recovery. T's can be your ally, but you've also seen that's not always true. The past is what you have to work with, and you're doing so as we all end up doing--slowly (and sometimes painfully). You also wrote:

"I can see that what he is saying is that I need to empower myself so as not to feel totally powerless like i felt with the last two therapists i tried.  This is a good idea."

Touche. Remember, you have two T's, sort of. The other and the most important--you. Now, too, you have more wherewithal you just couldn't access before. Part of that is just the strength of knowing you have one other ally now--us. We don't have the "professional" tag, but we can support you all the way. To be "very afraid", as you say, is natural.

You've seen the dark side of T, for sure. But as the GP put it:
"...any T worth their salt would be willing to listen and discuss what i have to say..." Maybe you should bring a huge salt block with? (sorry, couldn't resist--hearing you in this frame of mind feels good for us, too).

Wishing you all the best as you journey forward with this.   

Dutch Uncle said:

"I hardly know what forgiveness is. Time to educate myself.
With me as my own guinea-pig."

My thought is to not focus on something you have no control over. The past is a distant land.

Forgiveness is taught as a doing, but maybe it's just a state of accepting what was, and what is--now.  Perhaps we need to un-learn the popular beliefs to reach any state of forgiveness, if we still want to call it that. But if it's based on religion, I concur with the idea that maybe religions should have expiration dates on them, to avoid staleness. Every time the frowns go on and the powerful voices start their chant of "the bible says" I want to get out of the way. I couldn't do that as a kid, but I sure can now.

Today's forgiveness theologians aren't necessarily religious. The psych crowd has joined the chorus--they say they're science-based, but reach the same conclusions: "you must forgive". The other day I heard a psych prof on a call-in radio show who preached that gospel to caller after caller whose every "can't forgive" plea was met with an "oh just see where your abusers were coming from" . He was so sure of himself; after all, he is a doctor, he knows these things, right?

An important part of un-learning involves time...usually the hurt happened a while back. It may have been totally disgusting, but they're all past tense happenings. And we're only living now. I usually hate the context of "just let it go", maybe "just let it be" is more apt. It's no easier but makes more sense.

The abuse it's said we have to forgive happened, we got the short end then, but survived. While we probably can't totally forget and certainly can't change what happened, we also shouldn't feel compelled to play this forgiveness game. Dwelling on ways to forgive is like giving the abusers a double advantage—what they did then plus the noxious idea that they can still affect us via this "you must forgive" mantra.

The psych prof I heard said to remember, "they were only human". Wow--how profound can it get? I...don't...care, prof! They hurt me, it wasn't okay, whether they're human or alien or some other category.

Even self-forgiveness seems kind of odd. What's there to forgive? That you got in their way? If using the forgiveness word makes some feel comfortable, that's great; I've tried and can't do it, resent it being talked up as if it's an absolute  cure instead of referencing something now in the rear-view mirror. 

For me, it all circles back to what you said, Dutch Uncle: "So there's nothing to forgive in the first place."

EmoVulcan wrote:

"Knowledge gleaned here I can use, but how do I get to safe, when I have never been there?"

It may seem contradictory at first, but being safe has always been on the journey with you, it's just been hidden behind a creaky door that's never been opened, as it appears even creepier to try and open it.

Knowledge is only the hallway to the door. Even when opened, the breezes behind blow in and raise doubts again. This is all so new. Some say it takes time, and I'm sick of waiting, we tell ourselves. But before we give up again, we look around and think not of how it was, but what it can be.

You've been there, so often, and it seemed close, but the door wouldn't budge. Now it has. This resonates so strongly with what I've encountered...so close, 'til the tears, anger, rage, confusion rush in on the breeze again. But I was so desperate I tried again--how could I not? It wasn't the prospect of future gain anymore, it was one careful step at a time; even as the floor squeaks, I step forward and sense it really is better. Safe even.

I didn't trust myself to fully open that door again. Long ago, others came and took my safe feelings away, but then (although it's taken "forever") I learned it was their mistake; that I still have the safe place, and now it's okay to accept that I really am, somehow, unbelievably safe. Even when it doesn't look that way, after the next bad vibe, or ef/trigger--but even that's safe, it's part of my new life. Sometimes the tears obscure the door yet again, but I've learned to try anyway. I think it's that "safe" voice and that I can now trust it.

Your peek in the door has brought you a sense of hope. It might take many more steps. The hardest will be finding a way to let your spouse realize it really is okay, that it's part of your hope and your safety. That this is how it's expressed and without acceptance, that door might be blown shut again. Allowing it to swing shut would be worse than shedding some tears in the process.

Stay with hope, trust the process. You're on the right path now. 

Coping.

No motorcycle, but I walked, literally, all over the metro area I grew up in. All that hiking, despite asthma—which interestingly was usually only a problem around home or school. I live deep in the woods now; part of my total—and fortunate--escape when I fell into an acting gig after university, left town and never returned.

On one childhood walk, I met a gentleman who suggested I learn what was behind the religion I was being taught. He was my "alley angel" in pointing me in a new direction--a stranger that I'm forever indebted to. Then I discovered the library--it became my cathedral--on Saturdays I'd go and stay 'til dusk. My real education took place there. I found ways to laugh via old Laurel and Hardy films—in my mind I became Stan Laurel, who always trumped up the rotund Oliver...I began to consider the school bully monsters as pushover Oliver Hardy's who I, as Stan Laurel, would foil, at least internally. So reading, Stan Laurel, and an "angel alley" helped me cope. I also found music, picked up and learned accordion, especially Celtic stuff, still a huge love of mine. I also found an old unused attic room for peaceful reverie at home, away from the mad people downstairs.

One day, age 15, I just ran away from the school. It's an awful story, but it was how I discover my own strength which I wrote about before (warning--it's a long vent): 
http://outofthefog.net/C-PTSD/forum/index.php?topic=2189.msg13525#msg13525

Sorry if I wandered a bit out of the men/women in therapy theme this thread started from. Kind of like life in that regard—twists and turns; yet here we are, still healing, still learning, somehow still coping. Who'd a thunk it?