Papa Coco's Recovery Journal

[SenseOrgan]

Papa Coco
I'm so sorry this is hitting you so hard at the moment. You're right about the open doors into the old tire-fire that still hasn't been extinguished. The metaphor I came up with was a hatch opening up under me and dropping into *.

Please don't take the following as an attempt to invalidate or in any way brush away the incredible pain you experience. You are in great pain, fear, and overwhelm and I think your attitude towards this is immensely courageous. Would it be possible to squeeze some mental/emotional aikido into the situation? Some directing of this enormous emotional force which is mobilized.

It's one thing to do your utmost to get through this. That is incredibly hard. What if you have an interest, a really good reason for going through all of this? Would that change how you perceive what you are going through? Would that help to focus on the point on the horizon? You see, I think that what you are doing is going through * to save the one you had to bury for 50 years. Within yourself. That man, that guy, that boy, that child, that infant is locked in time. Because the pain he had to endure was too much to process. Those versions of who you are deserve to be free. All of them. All of you. You are welcoming them home to the degree you can feel their pain and terror. I think you are liberating them, liberating yourself, from all they carried for so long by no longer trying to avoid it. Nothing is forever. That includes this pain and terror and perhaps the idea that it will never be better for you. There are people who support you now. You do not have to go through this alone. Not anymore. That was a big part of what made it so so hard to carry all of this, I suspect. I still not got to reading Pete Walkers The Tao of Fully Feeling, but I have a hunch this is in line with what I tried to say.

Much love. 

[Chart]

Beautifully put, SenseOrgan. Indeed the metaphor is apt: Each experience of pain represents the suffering of an inner child that was not allowed the peace and love he deserved. The Pain is the call to come and love that child. Thank you.
 

[Papa Coco]

Uh.

Wow.

The responses I'm receiving from you all softening my heart and strengthening it at the same time.

Armee, your kind concern for my physical health is noted and I'm going to talk to my doctor about it after the Holidays.

Little2Nothing, I see you as a particularly gentle and kind man. Someone I can really admire. I'm happy to be in your thoughts as you are in mine. Thank you for the prayers and thoughts.

Sanctuary, Wow. Your story speaks so loudly to mine. And it does help me feel less alone. You have a strong handle on how things work in the trauma world. Nice that your T increased your visits. I see my T once every two weeks and you have made me consider that I might need to ask him if he could increase my visits right now. He's good with IFS work and could help me talk with some of my protector parts too. They're very active right now.

Chart, You are an inspiration by how tirelessly you pursue the healing. I say inspiration because you inspire me to keep running all the way to the end. Like digging down deep and finding that hidden energy to stay in the race. Loving the inner baby is a really good idea right now. For me, I'm feeling like how Sanctuary is feeling; like I'm a baby again. I'm trying to learn to stop using so many words when I think. Like a baby, I'm finding myself more able to just sit and observe the room without thinking in words. I can do it for about 4 seconds right now. But I am definitely tapped into a brain vein that goes all the way back to infancy right now.

NarcKiddo, At times I can't tell you for sure what year it is; 1967 or 2024.  Every morning this week I've found myself laying in bed for an hour or more after awakening. Feeling EXACTLY like I did as a child. Terrified. My chest hollow. My blood feels like its made of poison. I spent most of yesterday morning sobbing, and not sure why. Today I lay in bed realizing that I'm more afraid of living than of dying.  In Catholic school, after the abuse got to its worst, I became the class idiot. As soon as I started to fall behind in academics, due to being in a trance most of the day, it became impossible to catch up. So I got dumber and dumber as the years went on. And I would always feel like my homework was too hard and I didn't have anyone who would help. The school I went to didn't have any compassionate teachers who would ever let a student ask for help. I was to learn when they told me to. If I was stupid that was my problem. This morning, I believed that I have homework I need to do but don't' know how and I'm going to get humiliated for it when the deadline passes and I'm not ready. It was THAT feeling of a looming deadline for me to do something I'm unable to do, is what makes my body feel so weak right now. I guess that's the body/mind connection at work? My brain wants to give up so my body gives up?

SunshineAndWarmth, Thank you for those kind words. They help. I am feeling really into my own suffering right now, and I haven't been able to get to the other journals to start supporting my fellow survivors. I often talk about how we have two hands, one for giving and one for receiving, and that when we do both equally, we succeed at being what we were created to be. A conduit for love that keeps flowing between us all. Well, for the past few weeks, I have been kind of selfish on the forum, airing  my feelings a lot more than supporting others. That's feeding a bit of my fear. I was raised to ignore MY feelings in favor of others. Now I'm doing the opposite. (I know: this is trauma talking. I have the same right as does anyone else to reach out for help once in a while).

SenseOrgan, Your description of the hatch opening is pretty accurate for me too. This overwhelming anxiety definitely feels like *. Not just the word, but the place itself. What you say about how we are welcoming home our past versions of ourselves makes me think of what a friend said to me yesterday, that the closer we get to our traumas the more they hurt. I think it's because we are giving our inner protectors permission to take a break, so we really ARE closer to our traumas.

Journal Update


Monday was a day in pure Anxiety-driven *. Yesterday was a bit better, except for the fact that I couldn't stop crying all morning. Coco came home from work in early afternoon, and we had some errands to run together, so that distracted me in a good way and got me through to bedtime.  I don't always tell her things that would frighten her needlessly, but last night, I did open up and confess to how much pain I've been in these past few weeks, and especially this week. She is very supportive. But I need to remember, she's also afraid of losing me. Of all her friends, she's the only one who is not a widow, which adds to her fears of losing me, so I can't be throwing around my dark words without considering how it's affecting her. But last night I knew that it wasn't fair for me to not tell her. Of course she was supportive. That's who she is.

Today, I just got up. Writing this post is my second act of the day, just after making my first cup of coffee. I lay in bed for about an hour before I could find the strength to get up. I was feeling so much fear. I feel like I am incompetent and falling behind.

Falling behind is a theme that has come up every day this week. At one point while I was crying yesterday, I started hearing myself say things like, "You've abandoned me". I didn't mean to say those words, but that was what the crying wanted me to hear. So, I heard it. Then today I accidentally stumbled upon those same words just now. (Last two words in the above sentence). I don't know why I typed them there. I think my body and brain are throwing me clues. The feeling of being abandoned, or left behind, has been at the core of my root system since the beginning, but I never really understood that until this week.

The only thing that would make me cry out "You abandoned me" tells me that, for some reason, I've felt alone since I first felt abandoned, which, clues are leading me to believe it happened right away in the first year of life. No words. No reason. Just this feeling that nobody is going to help when I need it. Then, being transported again to that feeling of waiting for my ride to pick me up and bring me into the fire each morning, supports that same sense that nobody is on my side. Spiritually and emotionally and physically I've been abandoned by the very people who kept saying the words, "I love you" but didn't seem to be able to respect me. That's why I've always called myself a family pet. I was fed and clothed and kept on a leash, but if I spoke real words to ask for real help, all they heard was barking.

I just noticed it: My body shouted out the words "You abandoned me." Right now, as I enter this into the journal, I'm suddenly aware of the importance that this is past tense. I just asked myself, why didn't you shout, "Don't abandon me"? Why did I go to past tense? I think it's telling me that I feel like the damage is already done, which is VERY different from being in a place where I feel like I still have a chance. If I thought abandonment is coming, I'd think I had some hope. But it's done. The childhood is in ruins. Friends are dead and buried. I can't go back and fix what Catholic school did. There's hope in asking for help. There's only defeat in asking why you didn't help when you could have.  The past tense of this seems like a significant epiphany within the epiphany of abandonment.

Abandonment. Being left behind. I've said the words before, but this week I'm finally hearing the music. As of today, I now understand how the feeling of being abandoned has affected every aspect of my life. It has generated the lion's share of my lifelong, laundry list of fears that keep getting worse instead of better.

That feels like an epiphany for me. A few days on this thought trail might help move me forward a little.

----

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving here in the US. I might be offline for a day or two, because we host the dinner at our home for our son and his family and we go all out. The whole traditional dinner.

The support we give each other here on the forum is a blessing far greater than some realize. Of all the treatments we are creating to help people who feel utterly alone in the world, a group of people who feel alone, all supporting one another....well...it kind of makes sense that it would be a helpful thing.

Once again: I love this forum. Thank you all for your helpful presence in my life.

[Armee]

You were abandoned Papa Coco.    that little boy was badly abandoned and left to fend off all that horrible poison alone. Even though you feel it in the present, it's the past speaking through to you because the little boy still lives in the past.

My worst flashbacks...I feel in the present and connected to the present. I feel about my husband (who is kind and gentle): I
should let him do whatever he wants to me. I should  just let him hurt me. I should die. These are thoughts and words from a past trauma superimposed onto the present moment. They are still flashbacks. And they suck. But for me recognizing these flashbacks and why they popped up and why they make sense helps me immensely.

I'm sorry you are suffering. Currently you are not alone. Though little Papa Coco is, because he's still stuck in the horrible past.   

[Secondchance]

Papa Coco

I said I was going to read this thread and I have! All of your content. I see we have some agreements, like for example the importance of love and the harm that is done in churches.

I will give my own take on healing trauma, which I have formed in the last 9 months of study and experience, in continuance of my last post.

As I said then, love is #1, but an holistic approach to recovery is needed. And our spirit is at the top of the list of what needs attention. But to start at the foundation:

Step 1, the autonomic nervous system needs to be calmed down. This is absolutely vital and is done though body work, breathing and most of all, by quitting stimulants like caffeine.

Step 2, Inflammation of the body must be reduced and this is though quitting whatever is causing it. Many things these days are causing this inflammation especially in our diets and what we drink. Even household products cause harm. I am very sensitive and have had to remove all chemicals in my home, in my sleep area, and my clothes which are all organic as well as my whole food non processed diet.

Most will not have to go as far as me but diet is so important and the need to quit sugar, alcohol, coffee and whatever foods have that effect, for me being all dairy, gluten and most grains (kept low). I am also sensitive to many vegetables which have some toxins in but his is extensive so must compromise there.

As for the spiritual side, we are spiritual beings with bodies and created to love our Maker, wherein grace will 'spread abroad in our hearts, the love of God'. I will add a caveat that churches in the west have gone far from the true image of God due to the influence of Augustine of Hippo who brought philosophy into the church and was not recognized by the early church and even thought of as a heretic.

Sadly the Christian church is in a very bad way and I feel unsafe in it and do not attend.

So once we have the foundation set, and if we find that it is too hard for us to discipline ourselves I think we need to look to the spiritual side and find the cause there.

In the spiritual realm there is a battle for our souls going on and there are many pitfalls which will take us away from the one true God. Once we fix that through coming to Him with repentance, we will be well on our way to healing.

If that is not in place we will get lost and go round and round, going from one thing to the next - lost in the sea in a raft.

Once we are in contact with the one true God, and seeing things though spiritual eyes rather than eyes of the flesh, He will speak to us and guide us on the path to healing which will not be in the same order for each of us but so long as we are in touch with our heavenly Healer, we will thrive because He promises us this.

I have had set back this week after reading that I should get a support network together so pushed myself 'out there' and was telling three believers I knew how things are with me and that I need support to recover. Every one of them had abandoned me!

I have made enough progress though to see that perhaps God wants to deal directly with me and it has not pulled me down and cause dysregulation so I am back to having no support whatsoever.

[Chart]

PC, everything I read here on the Forum, no matter how I feel about it, helps me to ease forward. Thank you for your help. It is the gift of water in a land of thirst. Your post brought me to tears. I'm spilling water on dry land, in hope that things will continue to grow.

[Secondchance]

Papa Coco

I agree with you that your condition at birth is significant, speaking as a trained nursery nurse. Astounding - must have scored 20 out of 10 on the APGAR (condition at birth score).

I see you as exceptionally gifted from birth, for what I discern as your life purpose in aiding the traumatized. 

But you can go two ways.

[Papa Coco]

Secondchance, Armee, Chart, Thank you for sharing this healing journey with me. It wouldn't be possible alone. All the souls on this forum are here for a reason, and that is that we all want to connect with others who feel what we feel.

Today's Journal Entry

I'm starting to feel my strength again. Four weeks of utter defeat have started to morph into a desire to stand up and be counted again. It started about 4 days ago. I have begun to focus more on my spiritual health than my physical health. (SecondChance, as part of your list of things we do to heal: I'm starting to not want to drink so much coffee. 4 days ago I went from 5 cups a day to 1. I just don't feel like I need so much of it all of a sudden. One cup a day keeps the headache at bay. No more is needed than that).

4 days ago, I started hearing different things in everything from TV shows to books I'm reading, that were about people who've had traumatic pasts. These are the words that people probably say every day, but I hadn't heard them until my mind was ready to hear them. Suddenly I'm being bombarded by people who were all about turning their painful pasts into personal strength and power. I realized that I've been looking at my scars as scars, whereas those who are fighting the good fight in life view their scars as badges showing the world that they survived and are stronger now because of it.

IT's not a sudden magic bullet. I didn't wake up and walk into a phone booth, flash some lights and come out as an invincible superhero. This new paradigm, that my past is proof I'm resilient, is moving into my consciousness slowly. Fear is slowly leaking out one foot while courage is slowly starting to fill from above.

My spirit life is more real to me than my physical life is. My T believes this is partially due to my MDMA experience in July. I saw the Love that is our Universe. More than just seeing it, I experienced it. Experiential learning is FAR more impactful than book learning. What I experienced while under MDMA was 4 hours living IN pure love. I didn't read about it. I was there. I felt it. I saw it. T believes that has changed me in the same way Near Death Experiencers are changed.

And, somehow, because I believe Love is stronger than anything on earth, I'm starting find myself feeling less upset over the crapola that happens on the planet and more interested in raising my own level of gratitude for being who I am. I don't need to fix any physical things. I don't need a new house or a new job or a new spouse or more money or a handsome face to find gratitude.

I think of the day my first son was born. The birth happened at 1 am on a Sunday morning, after a frightening day of struggle for my wife, who, ended up in an emergency C-Section to save her and the baby. After all that terror was done, and both were alive and resting, I was alone with my baby boy. The hospital was quiet. It was the middle of the night. The nursery was a far walk from the delivery room. I would hold my son in one arm and drag his bassinette through the halls to and from the nursery. Nurses chuckled as I was carrying him and dragging his cradle. I couldn't put him down. I was on top of the world. He was beautiful. I was a dad. I was HIS dad. Out of all the days I've lived since my own birth, that day was the most beautiful for me. I was in a state of gratitude that encompassed every other aspect of my life. Nothing could hurt me that day. Nothing in the world frightened me. My past meant nothing. My future was not even on my mind. I was staring into the eyes of my firstborn, and I felt nothing but gratitude.

That's my goal for how I want to feel for the rest of my life. And as of the past four days I've felt a tinge of energy making me think that sometime in the next few days, weeks or months, I'm going to be ready to fight for the downtrodden again. I've done this in the past. I've volunteered as an advocate for sexual assault victims, and I've hosted support groups in person and online. I do this when I feel like my past is my muse for how I will live my present. My scars are proof that I'm a survivor. My experiences with pain and abandon are my teachers, not my enemies.

I wish I could say that I believe I'm turning a corner that I'll never have to come back to, but I am wise enough now to know that you make hay when the sun shines, because it might start raining again later. If I keep feeling stronger now, perhaps it will be a good time for me to find a place to help again--while I'm in the mental place to do so. Someplace that lets me feel like my past mattered. If I just sit here as a victim, then my past defeated. But, if I use my experiences to help others, then my past becomes my strength. Empathy. The greatest healing power available to mankind. Empathy.

So, I can't predict how long I'll feel the strength, but I can report that the past 4 days have been improving. My spiritual life is deepening. My physical life is calming. I hope this lasts a long time, but thinking about the future only adds fear to the mix. THINKING ONLY about the present moment allows me to just say, "I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow, but today I'm ready to lend a hand where it's needed." Hurray for today.

Thank you again to everyone for all the support we all give to one another. This is how true love is supposed to look. A desire to support one another. Anything to bond us together is love. It is not lost on me at all. I value the love that's shared back and forth on this forum. And as Mother Teresa used to say, "love not put into action is only a word." Here's it carries weight. The love on this forum isn't empty words. I know that most of us care about each other. And that settles my heart.

[SenseOrgan]

So good to read Papa Coco!!! 
I Love your experiential "understanding" and feel the same. "A wide open heart is a fearless heart" Michael Taft.

[NarcKiddo]

  
I love that story about you wandering the hospital with your son. And am glad things are starting to ease.

[Secondchance]

Secondchance, Armee, Chart, Thank you for sharing this healing journey with me. It wouldn't be possible alone. All the souls on this forum are here for a reason, and that is that we all want to connect with others who feel what we feel.

Today's Journal Entry

I'm starting to feel my strength again. Four weeks of utter defeat have started to morph into a desire to stand up and be counted again. It started about 4 days ago. I have begun to focus more on my spiritual health than my physical health. (SecondChance, as part of your list of things we do to heal: I'm starting to not want to drink so much coffee. 4 days ago I went from 5 cups a day to 1. I just don't feel like I need so much of it all of a sudden. One cup a day keeps the headache at bay. No more is needed than that).

4 days ago, I started hearing different things in everything from TV shows to books I'm reading, that were about people who've had traumatic pasts. These are the words that people probably say every day, but I hadn't heard them until my mind was ready to hear them. Suddenly I'm being bombarded by people who were all about turning their painful pasts into personal strength and power. I realized that I've been looking at my scars as scars, whereas those who are fighting the good fight in life view their scars as badges showing the world that they survived and are stronger now because of it.

IT's not a sudden magic bullet. I didn't wake up and walk into a phone booth, flash some lights and come out as an invincible superhero. This new paradigm, that my past is proof I'm resilient, is moving into my consciousness slowly. Fear is slowly leaking out one foot while courage is slowly starting to fill from above.

My spirit life is more real to me than my physical life is. My T believes this is partially due to my MDMA experience in July. I saw the Love that is our Universe. More than just seeing it, I experienced it. Experiential learning is FAR more impactful than book learning. What I experienced while under MDMA was 4 hours living IN pure love. I didn't read about it. I was there. I felt it. I saw it. T believes that has changed me in the same way Near Death Experiencers are changed.

And, somehow, because I believe Love is stronger than anything on earth, I'm starting find myself feeling less upset over the crapola that happens on the planet and more interested in raising my own level of gratitude for being who I am. I don't need to fix any physical things. I don't need a new house or a new job or a new spouse or more money or a handsome face to find gratitude.

I think of the day my first son was born. The birth happened at 1 am on a Sunday morning, after a frightening day of struggle for my wife, who, ended up in an emergency C-Section to save her and the baby. After all that terror was done, and both were alive and resting, I was alone with my baby boy. The hospital was quiet. It was the middle of the night. The nursery was a far walk from the delivery room. I would hold my son in one arm and drag his bassinette through the halls to and from the nursery. Nurses chuckled as I was carrying him and dragging his cradle. I couldn't put him down. I was on top of the world. He was beautiful. I was a dad. I was HIS dad. Out of all the days I've lived since my own birth, that day was the most beautiful for me. I was in a state of gratitude that encompassed every other aspect of my life. Nothing could hurt me that day. Nothing in the world frightened me. My past meant nothing. My future was not even on my mind. I was staring into the eyes of my firstborn, and I felt nothing but gratitude.

That's my goal for how I want to feel for the rest of my life. And as of the past four days I've felt a tinge of energy making me think that sometime in the next few days, weeks or months, I'm going to be ready to fight for the downtrodden again. I've done this in the past. I've volunteered as an advocate for sexual assault victims, and I've hosted support groups in person and online. I do this when I feel like my past is my muse for how I will live my present. My scars are proof that I'm a survivor. My experiences with pain and abandon are my teachers, not my enemies.

I wish I could say that I believe I'm turning a corner that I'll never have to come back to, but I am wise enough now to know that you make hay when the sun shines, because it might start raining again later. If I keep feeling stronger now, perhaps it will be a good time for me to find a place to help again--while I'm in the mental place to do so. Someplace that lets me feel like my past mattered. If I just sit here as a victim, then my past defeated. But, if I use my experiences to help others, then my past becomes my strength. Empathy. The greatest healing power available to mankind. Empathy.

So, I can't predict how long I'll feel the strength, but I can report that the past 4 days have been improving. My spiritual life is deepening. My physical life is calming. I hope this lasts a long time, but thinking about the future only adds fear to the mix. THINKING ONLY about the present moment allows me to just say, "I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow, but today I'm ready to lend a hand where it's needed." Hurray for today.

Thank you again to everyone for all the support we all give to one another. This is how true love is supposed to look. A desire to support one another. Anything to bond us together is love. It is not lost on me at all. I value the love that's shared back and forth on this forum. And as Mother Teresa used to say, "love not put into action is only a word." Here's it carries weight. The love on this forum isn't empty words. I know that most of us care about each other. And that settles my heart.

Papa Coco my heart was giving little leaps when I read this about you gaining strength and clarity. I love the bit where you talk about wearing scars like badges!

In these times, those who have recovered from severe childhood issues and can be a beacon for others are going to stand out like shinning stars in future days, and watching you come to the forefront is going to be so exciting!

Hence they are going to be targets for the enemy of souls, who convinces most that he does not exist. But we know his trademarks and can be vigilant. Confusion and discouragement are two of them whereas if we are in the light all is made clear.

I pray that you will come though. The world needs you!

You did great reducing coffee from 5 cups to one! Specific supplements like b vits. and magnesium help with addictions and make the break for us much easier.  Headache could be the start of withdrawal. That is a beautiful story about your son!

[Papa Coco]

It feels good to feel a little bit of fight rising up in me again.

In one book I read recently, the author wrote that he believes anger is a better emotion than depression because anger has some energy in it. Anger forces us to change things that need to be changed. I'm not angry, but I'm feeling like fighting for joy for myself and others who feel life the way I do. There's a little bit of power in feeling like fighting for myself.

Pablo Picasso said that every child is an artist, and that the trick is to remain an artist when we grow up. Today, I wonder if we could substitute artist with a word that might be more of a synonym than we first think. Today, I'd say "every child is their authentic self. The trick is to remain our authentic selves when we grow up."

After a lot of reading and self-examination, and interaction with a lot of the people on this forum, I now see "our authentic selves" is a synonym or "our artistic selves." If there's a god, that god is said to have created humans in his image. That god is nothing if not a creator. An artist. And we were created to be the same. So when we find our authentic selves (I'm not there yet, but I have some clues I'm working toward that might help me embody the artist that was shamed out of me 6 decades ago), we find our artistic place. A quote from a book I read called The Artist's Way, goes, "Artistic ability is God's gift to me. My using that artistic ability is my gift back to God."  Good quote. It changed me. I read it 18 months ago and have been on the trail of finding my artistic gift ever since. This quote was what it took to show me that I have permission to find my authentic self and express it somehow with an artistic muscle that was beaten into hiding when I was too small to defend myself.

The people on this forum have shown me so much love that I suspect that when I find myself connected again with the artist I was born to be, it will likely be something that involves healing, and connection with others. Somehow, we need to heal the world as best we can by healing ourselves and the people we are closest to. The more love we bring into the collective consciousness of mankind, the more love we bring to the whole. I can't reach very many people on a physical level. But spiritually, any love I put into the world heals the world just a little bit. A few grains of salt in a vat of soup changes the flavor of the entire pot of soup. A little love from a few people will change the flavor, ever-so-slightly, of the world as a whole.

So far so good today.

I'm working with my doctor to adjust my blood sugar medications to see if I can stop feeling like I'm hungry and full at the same time. We might be finding a dosage of these capsules that helps me gain a better ability to regulate my metabolism and, with it, some of my mood swings.

Happy Friday everyone,

[Maria S]

I only read your last post. That has a lot of good things in it. You helped me by that. Thank you!

For me, my authentic self comes out with my kid. When we laugh or tease eachother.

And at work. I work with children with severe autism and disabilities.

I need to connect with them by getting out of thinking and into feelings. Out of my past and into playing and joking in the now. Out of our rational communication and into creative ways to connect.

I find myself on my knees in the hallway making fun sounds and using touch to connect to a teen with the mental age of a baby...being rewarded with a great big laughter...and it heals me deeply. They are healers. I do believe.

Sorry for sharing a bit of myself in your thread. But your post really made me think of how much joy this gives me. I wanted to share what it brought up with me. Because it really touched me.

What did you notice is a good way to express your artistic self? For you? What did you find out in your discoveries of these 18 months?

[Papa Coco]

Mathilde,

No need to apologize for bringing yourself into my thread, I absolutely welcome it. We are here to share ourselves with others who resonate with us. After living a long life of being laughed at for being a man who has emotions, I now welcome any open-hearted sharing today. It is very welcome on my thread.

I can only imagine the joy of being important to the kids that you work with. I'm sure it's hard work and fraught with frustration, but in the end, when a child (or child-like person) trusts and loves you, well, there's no better feeling of joy than that for me.

You asked about what a good way would be to express myself through art and for me, the only thing I've found that seems to be something I can express with is writing. My story goes that I was never allowed to participate in any arts, music, or sports. My boyhood fantasy was to be the next Victor Borge. I've admired him for my whole life. He was an excellent pianist, a talented comedian, and he appeared to truly love his audience. But when I was not allowed to ever learn piano, or to ever participate in any arts or performance activities, I landed on wanting to be a writer. But when I'd write, all heck would break loose.

As a boy, my mother would search my room when I was at school and read anything I wrote in a diary or journal, then get pissy about it, and punish me for not loving her enough when I got home from school. On two occasions I walked into an after-school trap where I'd have to answer for why I  hurt my mother by not being a happy enough child. What I wrote was not about her, but she made everything about herself. They were the writings of a struggling boy. That angered Mom. If I wasn't happy, it was a reflection on her. If I was too happy, that would freak her out too. I needed to be somewhere between happy but not excited if I wanted her to not freak out. I've not yet successfully stopped feeling that fear of being 14, coming home from being abused all day long at school, and seeing Mom crying and holding my diary in her hand. To this day, the terror still makes me want to turn and run out into speeding traffic.

So, I learned to never write again. But I WANTED to write SO BADLY. I tried and tried and tried to write the great American novel many times, but writer's block stopped me at the first paragraph every, single, solitary, time I tried.  My 50 years of writer's block ended at the moment I went Full No Contact with the family. From one day to the next, I went from unable to write more than a paragraph, to not being able to stop writing until 3 full novels were done and published.

THe first three novels are very well written and have helped a number of my readers to better understand their husbands and brothers and sons who struggle with CPTSD. But I published in 2018 and haven't written anything since.  As I search for clues on what my artistic role on this earth is, I think...maybe....duuuuuhhhhhh Writing?

Today, writing is my time warp. I sit down to write and suddenly it's been 6 hours and I can't believe it. So that's a sign that I am on the right track at finding the artistic expression I was born to live within.

The trick, for me, is overcoming the traumas of expecting to walk into a trap again if I try to write.  But those are the traumas of my brain. The brain still remembers the pain of the past and uses is to fuel the fear of the future. One who has not been burnt in the past isn't so afraid of the stove now. Past pain drives future fear. And I know that, so it's my job to get on with life without letting the past pain stop me from being what I think the Universe is telling me I am.

You also asked what I've discovered about myself and about life in the past 18 months. When I started to change my paradigms about life 18 months ago, my T noticed it in me before I did. I said "I'm changing." He said, "No. You're remembering who you are."

Those words have truly described where the entire complicated barrage of medications, treatments, books, classes, therapies, etc., has led me. The more I recognize the differences and similarities between head knowledge and following the heart, the more I sort of feel like I am. I usually feel like I don't deserve to be here, but now I just feel like I exist as much as anyone else does, and that in the end of all things, we are ALL going to be okay.

That doesn't stop the EFs. I still have weeks of despair at times, but it does resonate in my heart, day and night, that I'm as valuable as anyone else is. That change in how I see myself changes how I make decisions, and what I expect to experience in life.

Barring the never-ending EF cycle of CPTSD, the rest of my life is starting to make sense. 

[Armee]

You are a very good writer Papa Coco. I appreciate your words so much.