What recovery feels like (convoluted metaphor alert)

Started by jamesG.1, August 06, 2021, 06:10:40 AM

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jamesG.1

Hi all,

I've been watching myself closely recently , (when do I not?) as I start to come out of CPTSD and have been trying to think it through in ways I can articulate and pass on.

It's been tough because this phase seems so fast and quickly changing, moving from one state to another at a much higher rate than it did when things were more chronic. What's noticeable is that my self-perception is more constructively critical, with my view of the events that led me here suddenly less subjective, more objective and free of the wild sting of hurt and grievance. A lot of self-doubt has gone, as has the feeling of having let myself down and been weak. The 'why me?' thing is still occasionally there, but the more distance you put between yourself and the crisis years, the better you can sort through the dust and find the rubies they didn't get to.

The best metaphor I can give you to describe the later stages of recovery is this:

Life, if it goes the way it should, is like a railway line. It travels pretty much from A to B, negotiating natural obstacle through dynamite blasted tunnels and over bridges that span the typical life dips without too much trouble. But C-PTSd and the incidents that cause it throw you off the train and on to the old road that went from A to B via Z J K D and all points in between. The old road doesnt have the tunnels and the bridges, it has to clamber up hillsides and wind down switchbacks and meander along river beds. Driving is hard work.

Gradually though, the bad countryside with all it's hills and forests, rivers and marshes starts to gve way to rolling gentle hills and the train heads towards the coast, and at that point the road rejoins the rail line. And that's where the metaphor kicks in really, because you start to see the train from the car, and the car from the train. You begin to see normality getting nearer - at times being where you should have been all along...  watching the car flip back and forth alongside the carriage as the obstacles lessen. Or, you are still in the car, mildly frustrated as you get close to the direct path of the train, only to be forced away by yet another hill or river.

That's what it all feels like to me. Sometimes I'm on the train, sometimes I'm in the car.

Which makes me think about the whole process really. Is it realistic that anyone really ends up on the train? Life never has it's bad moments blasted out of the way by dynamite before you even get there. And people who have all the privilege and help that can be imagined can fall off the train or are pushed, so one way or another the railway metaphor makes you see that the idea of a direct route through life is never anything more than the point of a compass, suggesting where we should be headed, but never able to remove the obstacles we will encounter.

The road, always points the same way, but it is by necessity, winding and tough. Where you fall off the train matters, because you can drop in a desert, lush pastures or a war zone. How you fall or how you are pushed matters too, of course, but what matters far more is your realism about that fleeting view you get of the train as you start to fight your way back.

At this stage, I am tantalisingly close to the train at times. I've rebuilt virtually everything that constitutes a life, but the pain and hurt still lurks. Realistically, I will never get closure - that's impossible. What I CAN do, is live now, in the moment, as much as possible. When I do that, I'm in the train, watching the car as it follows the same river valley. When I don't, I'm back in the car chasing the train.

But wow, what a difference. Once I was deep in the valley, hood up with a dead engine, and all I could see of the train was a plume of distant steam rising above distant hills. (Metaphor overload, but you get the idea)

Later stage recovery is like that... on the train, in the car, on the train, in the car, on the train, in the car, on the train, in the car, rinse and repeat. Sometimes it feels like it will never end, but it's amazing to be so close that you can see yourself looking back at you from the carriage window.

OK, that's enough metaphor for today.

I need tea.

Fair winds people!


BeeKeeper

JamesG.1

Since your writing made me cry in this morning's post, I thought I'd look up past posts. And hello, here it is, only a short time before.

All your writing seems so eloquent and effortless, I don't stumble when I'm reading and "get" what you are saying immediately referencing it to my own life. With the train, I liked the distinction of falling or being pushed off, and the different locations in landing. Somehow that helped me visualize life like that. It allows me to objectively distance, and see circumstances in a way I hadn't before, It definitely removes the "sting of hurt" self-doubt and feeling weak. In looking at life even more objectively, it transports me to the top of the car, where I can see if not a panoramic view, at least more of the "big picture." I've been criticized for not seeing that.

So keep on watching yourself closely, and writing about it. Good for you and good for us.

woodsgnome

Thanks for painting that picture of life on the road, as it were. I've experienced all of those twists, turns, and endured several surprises in the process of finding a way, any way, that allows some sanity back into my journey.

Alas, it felt like I had finally resolved the journey somewhat, and settle down into a pattern I could feel more comfortable with. When whoosh, I was swept away again and now find myself far away from that train once more. If only it really was just once more.

Thanks for sharing your vision of the trek so far. I'll probably run some imagery from this through my mind every time a phrase like "stay on track" or its equivalents show up in my life's imagery.