Writing as Therapy

[Kizzie]

The following is an excerpt from a site called Stoning Demons (http://stoningdemons.wordpress.com/ ) by Kimberly Callis who suffers from CPTSD and uses journaling as a tool in her recovery.

Journal excerpt: Coming to terms with my condition...

May 23, 2014 - I wrote this as I was learning more about Complex PTSD and coming to accept my illness.  This short journal entry helped me focus on my recovery with a sense of balance.  I didn't expect it to be easy, but I did expect to get somewhere... Looking back, I see that I have accomplished most of the objectives I had.  I'm still growing and still getting my life back on track, but I have made some progress.

I have an illness. I am dealing with it and it will take time.

My illness has caused some changes in my life.

Recovery is not only possible... it will significantly improve my way of living.

I deserve the time, space and resources to recover.

I am responsible for seeing that I receive the right treatment and care.

Recovery will be emotional. I am responsible for my emotions and will be respectful of others and myself during my recovery process.

My recovery will shape my understanding of myself, of life and of others as I moved forward.

My recovery will require me to focus on my physical health as well.

I will not stop. Sometimes I may need a break, but I will not stop getting better.

I will make it through this and create a life of my own design.

[globetrotter]

I like writing for therapy as it makes me sit down and confront my feelings.

Im very avoidant and can find all kinds of fun distractions instead of focusing on recovery and growth.
I was looking for topics to write about regarding recovery, but not having much luck aside from the usual suggestions such as writing a letter to your younger self. I welcome any suggestions someone may have.

And then there's the part where I get wrapped up on wordsmithing and want to turn it into a creative writing exercise versus simply being a 'tool'.

[Kizzie]

What about something creative about 'the storm' that is CPTSD, something along the lines of this one from "Stoning the Demon"?  We have clinical descriptions of CPTSD, but this kind of writing (for me anyway) speaks deeply to my self and my lived experience of both CPTSD and SA.

Dwelling in Fear

I could go somewhere else... but I am afraid.

I could do more for myself, get out into life again... but I am paralyzed with fears.

I know some of what frightens me, but not all of it. That is the biggest fear of all... what would trigger me to fall apart again if I went out into the world? I wish I could just find what is wrong with me and fix it.

Sometimes I think that I am mostly afraid of myself because I let myself become broken. There is nothing really that anyone else can do to me that is worse than what I have done to myself.

I fear that if I let myself go back into a real life, I will just hurt again. I would let myself love the wrong person, or be loved the wrong way, or lose myself to what someone else wants me to be.... only to come back screaming when they've triggered some memory with a simple touch or careless word.

But I am so lonely and unfulfilled. My mind, which used to play with puzzles of business and risk, is empty of intended thought. It's just a wandering of lost places and people I've left behind, to ashamed to admit what I am going through or reveal what I have lost.

I drown in wishes. I wish I was better. I wish I could finish something. I wish I could sleep, eat, hope, care.

I find myself wondering if there is anyone else out there. Hiding in their houses. Living lives that are ever-diminishing in challenge and surprise because fear has taken hold. Are they suffering like me, shrinking away into withered shells, wanting something... anything... to happen that will make them want to breathe again?

There was a time when I would run from my fears, never dwelling in them. I would run, not literally, but I would take off somewhere when I was afraid.. or simply needed to feel alive. I would just go, move, leave, find that Somewhere Else to be.

But now I am afraid of Somewhere Else. I stay home. I hide. I close the blinds and shut out the world and all its doings. I have no where left to run and no energy left in me to run from fear, so it stays with me.

by Kimberly Callis at http://stoningdemons.wordpress.com/2...lling-in-fear/

[schrödinger's cat]

This poem stopped me dead in my tracks when I happened to re-read it yesterday. A warning: for me personally, some things rang so true that I felt shocked. Not triggered, but maybe that's different for everyone.

I've cut out the gory parts. If you google the original - there be dragons. (PM me if you want to know what kind.)

BTW: I never understood the bit about the bulbs. It's about hope, I think. It's actually not a bad image - how the seeds of new life (or recovery) look so unassuming and even a little dead, but there's all this life inside of them.




This Dead Relationship
by Katherine Pierpoint

I carry a dead relationship around everywhere with me.
It's my hobby.
How lucky to have a job that's also my hobby,
To do it all the time.
A few people notice, and ask if they can help carry this thing.

But, like an alcoholic scared they will hear the clink of glass in the bag,
I refuse – scared they'll smell rottenness,
Scared of something under their touch
That will cave in, a skin over brown foam on a bad apple.
I cram this thing over the threshold

Into the cold and speechless house,
Lean against the front door for a moment to breathe in the dark,
Then start the slow haul to the kitchen. [...]

[A section on how the dead relationship is like a reptile. It feels alien and other, and it quietly makes its way towards her when she's unawares.]

Next thing it's looking out of my eyes in the morning—
And in the mirror, though my eyes are not my own,
My mouth shows surprise that I am still there at all.

Oh, a sickness that can make you so ill,
Yet doesn't have the decency to kill you.
A mad free-fall that never hits the ground,
Never knows even the relief of sudden shock;
Just endless medium-rare shock, half-firm, half-bloody all the time.
A long, slow learning curve.
The overheating that can strip an engine badly,
Strain it far worse than a racing rally.
The fear that you will slow to a stop
Then start a soft, thick, slow-gathering roll backwards.

This dead relationship. This dead and sinking ship.

Bulbs lie, unplanted, on a plate of dust.
Dry and puckered pouches, only slightly mouldy;
Embalmed little stomachs but with hairy, twisted fingers,
Waiting for something to happen without needing to know what it is.
When it happens everything else in the universe can start.

This dead relationship.
I am this thing's twin.
One of us is dead
And we don't know which, we are so close.

https://bsbh.wikispaces.com/file/view/s902529_wk_046.pdf

[Kizzie]

Wow, SDK that is that dark, dark place I fear in me and before I knew about CPTSD (and that it is treatable) thought would take me down (the sinking ship). 

As I read your post and then re-read mine I thought, "Wow, there it is in writing, that thing I have lived in fear of and have been carrying around forever."  It's out in the light and it's awful, BUT (and this is important), I realize now it is not a dead relationship and I am not a sinking ship or defective or broken...

...... I   am   injured.

Just that.

[Kizzie]

I added a trigger alert in the subject line of a couple of the posts here as they are dark and can take some of us to places we're not ready for. 

For everyone - If you do post something that is on the "darker" side, could you please add a trigger warning in your subject line?  Tks.

[schrödinger's cat]

Sorry. I didn't want to endanger anyone.

[Kizzie]

I meant the collective "you" not you specifically SDK - edited my post above to reflect that.  I put a trigger alert on my post too as hadn't thought that it might be too dark for some members. The site is evolving so we'll pick up on things like this from time to time.  Anyway, wasn't pointing fingers - sorry!   I'm going to add it to the Board Guildelines section.

[Annegirl]

Really wonderful writing, all of it.
Thank you for sharing these.