C.'s Journal - Poetry & Prose from a Pomegranate Heart

[eva]

hi C - yesterday, I was re-visiting the story of Persephone and I am reminded of this by your use of the pomegranate heart image

I  love how you write: many of your posts are full of such rich thoughts and metaphor. I am sure Persephone brought treasures from the underworld, and I hope you do, too.

you wrote:  "Pain exists.  It happens and will happen again.  But not the same pain in the same way.  Not if I'm conscious and aware"

yes, when we watch and tune in, we can begin to sense a subtle shift..... and learn to ease fully into the more comfortable places between the pain. I like to invoke those moments of comfort and imagine them expand and dissolve the sheer vastness of those hurting places. keep writing, it's a healing gift.   
hugs. Y.

[C.]

Thank you Yvette.  Yes, writing is a great creative outlet for me and you illuminate the meaning well.  I love pomegranates on so many levels.  They invoke positive childhood memories since we had a tree in our back yard...must represent my inner child.  Yet they seem so incredibly grown up, beautiful like a brilliant ruby.  Sensual to taste and "pop" in my mouth...and the red representing the heart.  Love.

[eva]

yes, beautiful and rich like a ruby; how wonderful to have a pomegranate tree in your garden. where I live now, we have a fig tree - exotic, to me, as I grew up in uk and I don't recall ever seeing such a thing. figs, of course, are similarly sensual (poem by DH Lawrence, for example)

wishing many more treasures for your inner child..

[C.]

Grief and closure and grief and closure and grief and closure...

Closure
I felt it this year.  That relief that comes w/knowing the ending.  That it's done.  And faith that the right beginning(s) are just around the corner, or over that hill, but they are there.  I cannot see them, or hear them, but I know.  And that's enough.  Kind conversational ending and touch from Mr. A. Telling him no, never again...you love me but will never commit.  That isn't good for me.  I'm done. Realization that Ms.B isn't really a friend, and that's ok.  Closing the door one final time on the "C last name" family home.  Waving good-bye to my elderly cat as she moved from daughter's arms and into her car, headed for a new home of her own.  Unpacking every single box from the "C"family life and placing it in the garbage, goodwill, or a permanent storage space.

I cannot write more.  It hurts to put it all together.  Yet for each ending I was able to move through it like "normal" grief.  The sadness, the anger and finally acceptance.  It didn't stick to me, or consume me, or send me on a risky avoidant path of self-destruction.  Now they are relatively healed scars.  Part of me.

But I am no longer just scars.  I now see those large places of health throughout my being.  Untouched and mine.

I've heard that you can be cured from C-PTSD.  I don't believe that anymore.  At least not for me.  I believe that you can learn to live with your C-PTSD in a general state of contentment.  Free of serious symptoms.  Yet, I wouldn't trade this illness now for it has gifted me with a sensitivity, compassion, and empathy few others seem to understand.  The "recipe"that is ME mixes together this injury with salty tears, sighs of relief, the will to dance when others won't, and an inner-peace that is ME.  And I like ME.  Sometimes i bug me, irritate me, frustrate me, but under it all....I love ME.

Grief
This week I was surprised to face feelings of grief in moments of positivity.  A
supportive conversation w/a friend who I thought had abandoned me.  Funds received in a punctual manner from my exH.  A profound and empathetic response from my little brother to my reality, the one I never told him about. 

Then the clincher.  My BF joyfully offering and following through w/tackling my backyard.  Weeds, tall grass, a mower, gloves, and .  He donned them happily and finished my yard entirely of his own volition and knowing it would help my son since that's his chore.  But the experience haunted me.  I felt sad.  And I couldn't figure out why.  Why am I sad? about such a selfless act of service by someone who loves and accepts me.  Then memories surfaced in my brain and my heart did that familiar pause, and I wept.  I wept b/c no one had ever done something so selfless and kind outside for me, all the while wanting my companionship and assistance.  My parents grumbled and growled at the teenager who refused to weed, my exH seldomly finished an outdoor task.  He started off gung ho, but his enthusiasm petered off after 20-30 minutes and I was left alone to finish.  So this wonderful, beautiful moment was tainted by a history of grief about yard work.  I moved through that pain, sadness and anger.  I sought out support from a few understanding friends and my therapist.  And now?  Well, now I am going to buy myself some new work gloves, fill the lawn mower w/gasoline and learn to enjoy yard work again with this loving man I call "boy friend."

I hope I can one day accept the distance I must maintain from my parents and exH in order to be healthy.  On the outside they are so smiley, so talkative, so "upbeat."  But that isn't what I see or feel.  And I hope to one day really see and believe this truth.  That for me, they are toxic.  A poisonous flower.  And it's best to stick to looking every once in a while through a glass, at a distance.  That is my form of love, compassion and acceptance for people who unwittingly or willfully injured me.  I cannot hate or stay angry.  Because fault and blame no longer matter to me.  They simply do not seem to be a part my nature from my experience.  And if I never look I may find myself on the self-destructive path of avoidance.  So sometimes I can look and touch for a moment, but I must know when and how, b/c otherwise it becomes deadly to a parts of me I now hold so dear.   My heart.  My soul.  My thoughts.  My truth.  My feel

Lingering grief or guilt?
But, if I am honest with myself I know that I still feel some guilt at my need for distance.  They want me.  I will always be their daughter, the ExW who he thinks could one day fe a "friend" and I somehow feel that biological need to please, to "appreciate."  I wish they could understand that I do appreciate and accept.  But for my own reasons of Faith and of Love.  And always, always, from a distance.

Grief and Closure
So, perhaps, closure and grief never end.  And that's ok w/me now.  At least for today.

Favorite quote about a story, any story, my story
A beginning, a middle, and a twist...(RL Stine)

[C.]

Zombies

I dreamed about zombies last night.  Or more like this morning.  And every time I woke up scared and went to sleep again, assuming the dream would change.  But it didn't change,  I was scared and running, trying to connect w/a "safe" group.  The younger people seemed safer.

When I work up the metaphor hit hard.  Abandonment.  Zombies are people who you loved who abandon you.  People who loved, or who you thought loved, you.  But is it abandonment?  Because they come back.  But they come back intent on harming you.  They want to eat you alive.

Zombies.  CPTSD means I have been surrounded by zombies.  Dead people who want to consume me.  And the only hope for survival is to flee.  Or to kill.

And once free it can be confusing.  Because zombies at first look like real people.  So sometimes I think a person is a person, but it's a zombie.  And sometimes I think a zombie is a zombie, but it's a person.

So I, and many around me, stay fascinated w/zombies.  They tell our backstory.  The dramatic monster that represents trauma.  And the resilience needed to first survive, and next thrive, in a world full of zombies.

[Three Roses]

This struck a chord with me! Thanks C

[C.]

I am glad to hear it struck a chord for you.  A reason to not keep my "journal" private, but share.  At least the themed entries.

[C.]

Ambition

Hellllloooooo....
Where are you?
Where did you go?
I know that you were here the other day
Well, a few years ago
I remember when your power
Pushed me forward
Inspired towards that
Goal
What goal?
Some goal...
To get There
Where?
You know, there...

But, now
You hide
Under a rock
Out of sight
What can I do?
How do I push forward?
Without You

[C.]

Dear My New Ambition,

Welcome home Ambition.  I wasn't expecting you.  You see, I thought that you'd packed your bags and left for good.  And I thought that was ok w/me because you had always dressed to impress others.  And w/my divorce you seemed an unwelcome guest who only complicated my life.

But the other day you visited.  I felt your familiar presence yet it wasn't so unpleasant.  Perhaps you've changed.  Is your intent different?  Are you really interested in ME?  I felt you remind me of the professional power I hold within.  A capacity to contribute.  Perhaps in ways I've not yet explored.

So I have accepted your nearness and as long as you behave, and you have MY best interests at heart, you may visit and reside.  Show me your new self bit by bit and I will get to know you.

Of course you know me and my desire to know the end at the beginning.  What does this relationship mean?  Yet I will do my best to quiet those anxious questions and simply us be together.  I look forward to getting to know the new you.

Sincerely,

My New ME

[C.]

During my therapy this week I heard words that brought healing tear to my eyes.  A deep and profound understanding.

I heard "healing yourself also contributes to a Greater Good."  I realized that all of this healing in real life truly impacts others in a positive way too.  I'd recently made some choices to allow the "real" me to be present at work.  Then I saw that it helped others.  All along I've been thinking of my healing as independent, alone, self-focused.  And although I understood it to be necessary a part of me wished to be a part again of some bigger and greater than myself.  So I've added a new mantra to my thoughts that I really love...

"healing myself also helps the Greater Good"