Papa Coco's Recovery Journal

[sanmagic7]

hey, PC, i, too, have a stone given to me by a dear friend.  on it she wrote 'trust the magic' and i keep it in a jacket pocket so it's with me when i have to leave the house.  holding it is soothing and comforting.  i get it, and so glad you've got yours.  i like the idea of taking yours to your next infusion.  and i love personal experiments.  hope yours works out well for you.  love and hugs

[milkandhoney11]

Hey Papa Coco,
I'm afraid I can't really manage a longer reply right now but I just wanted to say that I am really sorry about the story with your mum. It feels like such a sad, degrading, awful thing to do to an 8 year old and I am sorry it continues to affect you today, even though I am impressed by how you are handling all these negative memories. The stone sounds like a fantastic idea!

[Armee]

It's a beautiful post, Papa Coco, about the stone and the physical connections, even as the post also contains painful memories. I am sorry your mom handled you that way. I wouldn't even do that to a 3 year old in that way.

I remember your story of how the memories started coming back during an exam. It's hardest when you don't see them coming, the memories. I find it really helpful to anticipate, being caught off guard by triggers is difficult.

I'm glad you've got another treatment coming up and that they've helped so much. I know this is a difficult time of year but I'm really impressed how here and present you have been this year. 

[paul72]

hi Papa Coco
Thanks for sharing about the stone and its connections.... I like that!
I'm sorry for what you wrote in white.
It's something when you see your grandson at that age eh.. I'm sorry it doesn't make it easier.. but it sure shows how unnecessary the treatment of you was.
Sending a big hug filled with gratitude and encouragement for you.

[dollyvee]

Hey PC,

I read your entry a little while ago and saw something that reminded me of it yesterday. A video of a six year old boy parking his boat in a boat trailer with precision, something a lot of adults can't do. I was also amazed a few years ago when I was skiing how young the kids were when they started learning (I think I had my first lessons around 3? 4?) but there were toddlers, barely higher than my knee on these little death sticks snowplowing down a mountain. So, it is incredible what kids can do on their own at such young ages. Even Kevin Mcallister in Home Alone was 8 when he fought off the robbers. I'm sure that you have empathy for that little boy and your grandson though, something your mom did not.

I've been working on shame stuff too. Your posting on the IFS forum tweaked a thread that I was meaning to look into of how shame basically underlies a lot of trauma. I'm finding it hard to separate the shame from me since so much of that I absorbed (or had to absorb for survival I guess) into my idea of who I was. But it doesn't mean that that's who I was nor does it mean it's who you are either. My sf (and other family members it turns out) put his own body shame on me and I've grown up thinking that something's wrong, even though I do have healthy ideas etc. I guess it's maybe a sense of doing things for you finally and not for others? It's really tough to pick those two things apart though, what's your idea of you and what's someone else's. I think it's great that you're doing that process 

Sending you support 
dolly

[Papa Coco]

I am so thankful for all your responses since my last posting.

MilkandHoney, thanks for the notes on losing my friend on Thanksgiving.
Update: His funeral is today, but my wife and I have decided to not attend. After watching the disgusting behaviors of other friends and family at my mom's funeral and at several other friends' funerals over the years, we've come to see funerals as just another event where people come in angry, boast about having been closer to the deceased than they really were, and try to cut other family down to size. Same as family Thanksgiving dinners filled with grievances, boasting, covert insults, etc. I didn't even go to my dad's funeral—if he even had one. I was estranged by then and wouldn't have attended even if I'd been invited. Jim's new wife is making it clear via her postings on the web that she is the only person who was important to him. So, Coco and I aren't going to drive for an hour to be insulted or ignored by attention hounds.

Funerals, to me, are a waste of time and are just one more social event used to compete to be the recipient worthy of the most sympathy. The other thing funerals do is they coerce people into saying "If you need anything, call me" and then around 99.9% of the time, it's a lie. I have said that to people at funerals, and then I've been there for them weeks later when they realized they did need some help. Pretty much without exception, I hear, "Everyone offered help, but you're the only one who's not ghosting me now."  So...in Coco's and  my opinion, POST-funeral support is far, far, far more needed than attending the dog-and-pony show...Funerals, in my experience, are often something you might see on Maury Povich tabloid revenge show. Tomorrow I'll apologize to his daughter for not attending, and in a few weeks, Coco and I will go visit her and earnestly offer any actual support she might need.

San, I like that phrase "trust the magic." You've found, as I have, that keeping a physical charm in the pocket truly does reduce anxiety and build confidence when needed. Unfortunately, on the day of the infusion, I actually got behind and realized my uber was almost at the house. In a panic, I forgot to grab the stone, but while I was in the infusion, I gripped the chair more, so as to connect my body to my spirit as I was visiting with, what I call, the divine consciousness of pure relaxation. It helped. But I've got to do a better job of packing before my next infusion.

Armee: I couldn't agree more, that flashback memories are hardest when we don't see them coming. On the other hand, they're more authentic  for me. When I expect them, I worry that I created them out of my bias that I "knew they were there" and worry that I might have fabricated them to support my belief. But wow...when they come out of nowhere, to me, they are the most real and the most believable.

Phil, thanks for the hug and gratitude and encouragement. I like to read all of your posts and believe you are a genuinely caring soul, which makes these virtual hugs and encouragements as real as if you were in the room with me now.

Dolly, Man, you are so right about children. I often share youtube videos with my grandson, of young children playing instruments, dancing in groups or alone, doing standup in clubs, and I've even found a 14 year old who has been driving fully loaded semi trucks around his dad's truck yard since he was 9. My message to GS is "kids can do things too." As a result, he's now my mentor who teaches me about trains, locomotives, historic train crashes, etc, etc, etc. I personally believe that  kids grow up as fast as they are allowed to. My parents treated me like I was too stupid to pee in a cup, play a piano, ride a bike...so guess what. I grew up believing I'm too stupid to do things I would otherwise be perfectly capable to do.

Your comments about shame are intriguing. I think you are right about the way that underlying shame is a major contributor to our self-esteem. People who feel no shame feel capable of anything. People who feel residual shame, then anticipate more shame, hold back. We isolate so we don't have to face our shame in public. GADS! This makes me SO angry. How can anyone treat their child like an idiot, or shame them for being human beings? When I see it, I just want to scream!

For now, I'm going into my day thinking about the shame aspect of my PTSD. Is that what's keeping me tied to it? Maybe not by itself, but shame is certainly a contender as one of the top 5 reasons.

Journal Update: Friday, December 8, 2022

My 9th Ketamine Infusion was Saturday, 6 days ago. I forgot to bring my stone with me, but I focused heavily on maintaining connection with mind/body/spirit while in the infusion. When I came down from the Ketamine, my practitioner chatted me up to help ground me and to ask how I felt. She then told me about the new research that shows that the Infusions open the mind up for 24-48 hours, and they've done research that shows, those who focus on ONLY happy things for the next two days, sustain much longer between infusions. I came home and spent two days watching funny cat videos, and odd animal couples. I did searches on "happy people" and started building a PowerPoint presentation filled with images of happy, smiling people. I read up on the research and found articles saying that those who view images of smiles WHILE in the Ketamine Infusion, achieve even LONGER times between infusions. So...My new plan: Bring this PowerPoint presentation with me on my next infusion and view the smiles while I'm under.

I've found it to be consistent, that my post-ketamine weeks consistently leave me feeling like I have a right to be alive. Furthermore, for the weeks after Ketamine, I am consistently and increasingly less connected with, or happy with my hedonistic/ego identity. In other words, I repeatedly come home from KI s feeling like I don't connect with my house, my Jeep, my tools, my yards, my jobs...In fact, if anything, I feel like I'm the victim of my own hedonistic aspirations! I feel it all through my body, mind and spirit that I am the servant to my possessions and my current earthly identity. They aren't just words, they are the absolute truth while I'm in the Post Ketamine frame of mind. (Usually about a week or two).

My ego identity that connects me to daily life on earth is of no interest to me for a few weeks after my infusions. In fact, I often spend hours fantasizing about selling the house, the beach house, the Jeeps, furniture, tools, etc., and buying a truck and trailer, and traveling around doing good deeds for the rest of my life. That's the extreme...the fantasy. But what I HOPE continues to build in me, is the ability to let go of my clutter, downsize my home, go away from Jeeps and into econo cars, and just...spend my time going to lunch with friends, volunteering, and NOT WATCHING TV anymore. My son is building a family and has just purchased his first (older--fixer-upper) home. He and his wife have to work long hours just to keep up the payments. I suddenly want to bring my tools up to his house and start rebuilding his falling fences at my own cost, his failing heating system, etc. I can spend my time with him and his family rather than isolating in front of the TV, feeling afraid and unhappy. It seems doable to me if I ease into a life of helping others slowly and methodically, allowing my life to adjust in its proper pace and time.

I just realized that, after KIs, I tend to spend hours online looking for volunteer opportunities. On Monday, 2 days after this last infusion, I found a blog by someone calling himself, Tiny Buddha. In this article: https://tinybuddha.com/blog/6-powerful-questions-that-will-change-your-life-forever/ (tinybuddha.com) It asks 6 questions that I should answer as I search for my own true happiness. As I answered the questions, while still in the Ketamine influence, I answered questions about what I do love, what I'm proud of, what would I stand for if no one judged me, what if life had no limits, what would I do if I had a billion dollars, and who do I admire in life, I was struck by the authenticity of my own answers. All my answers were about connection to others. In fact, I shocked myself when I answered what I would do if I were a billionaire, and the first thing that came to mind was "I'd drive for Meals On Wheels." Naturally, the beauty of that answer is: Duh! I already have a Jeep. The website says I need an SUV with a rear seat I can lay down. That's what I have! That's pretty much all I need. I don't need a billion dollars.
     So...will I do it? Maybe...in a few months. I really need to rebuild my bathrooms, repaint my house, completely remove and replace my yard and fences. But once all those long-standing old ToDos are done...hmm. Volunteering to bring joy and food to shut-ins might be my next reinvention of myself. 

I did make one first step. I signed up to be on the mailing list for upcoming parks and waterways cleanup crews. As soon as some cleanup events are scheduled, I'm going to contact my grandsons and ask them to join me on some of these events. I know the little guy will jump at the chance. The older boy probably won't, but I'm giving him a fair chance anyway. It's a start. The idea of finding ways to give back has got me more excited than any new car or toy or tool could possibly excite me.

And if my GS really enjoys the experience, hmm... maybe he could ride along with me if I start delivering meals to shutins. What a GREAT thing to be exposed to at only 8 or 9 years of age: Physically doing selfless acts of kindness for others with Papa.

NOTE: This is how I feel post Ketamine. My goal is to continue working at making these post-KI realizations last longer and longer until somehow I become this person all the time.

I love you all! 

[milkandhoney11]

Papa Coco,
I feel sorry about the situation with the funeral. It is a difficult decision to make but I completely understand why you might choose not to attend given these circumstances. I myself did not go to any of my grandparent's funerals because I wanted to avoid the family drama, angry comments, nasty accusations, and insults, so I totally agree that it is sometimes better to protect yourself from situations like these that would only be immensely triggering.
However, I do think that it is wonderful that you are offering genuine support for Jim's family. It shows how amazing a person you are to be always ready to help, even when the sentiments towards seem a little difficult and you have been treated with so much anger in the past.
At any rate, I was very happy to hear that you feel better after your KI and that you are seeing the world in a slightly more positive light. It is so wonderful to hear this added sense of hope in your post and I am glad to see that you are starting to feel more like you have a "right to be alive".
You most certainly do. You have already brought me so much understanding and comfort in the short time we have known each other and I am very grateful that I have been able to meet you through this forum.

[Papa Coco]

Milkandhoney,

Your posts are always so understanding and kind, not only to me, but to everyone I see you respond to. Thanks for being one of my friends on this forum. Your corroboration on emotional things like this goes a long way to bring comfort and validation. It's sometimes not easy to know if I'm doing the right thing, so having support from people I respect, helps ease the discomfort of the decision.

I really respect that you chose to protect yourself by not attending your grandparents' funerals. It is not disrespectful to protect yourself from people who are waiting and watching and hoping to get their chance to humiliate you publicly as soon as they can get an audience. It's an act of self-love to protect yourself when needed. If you are at all following any of the IFS talk, or if you do already feel the presence of little parts of yourself all living together in your head and heart, then those parts are being protected by the captain of your ship by you (and I) choosing to protect them from nasty people rather than attend a dangerous gathering just to check the box of having attended some ancient social ritual that the guest of honor isn't even alive to be present for.

[Armee]

 

You're such a beautiful human being Papa Coco. Your gentle presence would be very soothing to homebound people. Amd helping your son fix his house would be so beautiful for all of you. I have a neighbor who's dad is here every day for 3 years fixing their house. He's literally a part of their home because of that.

What I love about your post is that post ketamine you can see your kindness for what it is... as your love for people and connection instead of as a trauma response. I like that because I struggle to know where my behaviors are a good part of my personality versus trauma responses. I tend to downplay my good traits as what I had to do to survive and not as some innate goodness. Thank you for sharing your experience so openly. 

[Papa Coco]

Armee, I accept your hug.

In fact, while reading your response I feel that strange thing when my eyes turn pink and get all watery. You are another beautiful voice of comfort that I cherish reading on this forum.

Someone once explained to me that the negative bias is what we use to survive. An annoyingly positive person walks straight into trouble over and over because they don't take caution. The negative bias is our cautionary brake pedal that keeps us from driving full speed off of cliffs.  For some of us, whose brains are more prone to trauma, that negative bias gets a little too much braking power. Like those people who drive with one foot on the gas and the other on the brake, we are holding ourselves back. I do it all...the...time.

My Therapist often reads off a list of things I've done right because he can see in my eyes and hear in my voice that I can't remember having every done anything good for anyone anywhere. I have come to believe that as a side effect of having been raised by people who couldn't be pleased. If I saved a baby from a burning car, they'd say I should have saved the car too. Nothing I did was ever right, even when they told me to do it.

One reason I was laid off after 42 years with my employer was because corporate America no longer values quality work. They only value people who want to use their current job as a ladder rung toward newer, better jobs. Corporate America is a sociopathic environment where only those who step on their peers are valued as go-getters. Every year, I had to post my 1 year, and 5 year professional growth plans, but I was one of those idiots who liked my job and literally wanted to keep doing it until I retired. They gave me stellar reviews on my performance and my teamwork but gave me poor reviews on my inability to prove to them that I wanted something different than what I was doing stellar work at. My contributions meant nothing to them. They only wanted me to want more. But I didn't WANT more! I'd once been a manager for a while, and I hated every second of the job. I liked being the employee so I felt great relief when my team was disbanded and I was put back into my previous job.   

Here's why I'm telling this story:  Sadly, during both my yearly reviews and my post-layoff job searches, what I truly discovered was that I couldn't build a resume, because I had no memory of having ever done anything right. On a resume I had to post my skills, but I can't do that. In my brain I have NO skills whatsoever. Like in my earlier example, I may have saved a baby but I didn't save the car too. So what good am I? 

After being laid off at 60, I had the luxury of being old enough to just retire. I tried writing a resume and answering ads for employees on LinkedIn but I couldn't remember any skills, so I couldn't qualify for any job.

Trauma. The gift that keeps on giving.

[Armee]

 

Another hug. I so very much relate to what you wrote about not being able to remember the good things youve done and the skills you have. It's much safer to not remember that you are good because then it's less of a blow when you think you are good and your parent or family or abusers then tell you you are something opposite of that. It's a softer blow if you start preemptively believing you are terrible.

But under it all, we DO know who we are. And you are 100% just the most solid kind human. You don't feel solid to yourself because of the things that have happened to you but you are solid and still standing and we are so grateful for your presence here.

I also want to say I 100% relate to what you said about flashbacks coming back on their own and how much more trustworthy that feels.

[Hope67]

Hi Papa Coco,
I am just popping by, and wanted to add a hug to your journal, if that's ok..    I read what you wrote about your job, and you clearly cared a lot for your work.  Quality is a great thing, and it's a pity more organisations don't necessarily value quality and look after their staff.
Hope 

[Armee]

I hope you don't mind me popping in to send a quick hug your way. 

[Papa Coco]

Armee and Hope,

Thank you for the hugs. They are always welcome.

I've been on edge the last few days. EF's happen when current events recreate emotions and sensations that mirror past events. The neighbors who share my back yard fence here in the city have decided to start collecting dogs. One is a nasty German Shepard, which is legally considered to be the 8th most dangerous dog on earth. They DO tend to suddenly attack out of nowhere, like Rottweilers and Pit bulls do. Some of my fences were damaged in a recent windstorm and the neighbor isn't fixing them. All his dogs, including this nasty one, run free through the neighborhood now. They can enter my back yard somehow and if we try to shoo that nasty German Shepard out, it bares its teeth, growls, and raises the hair on its back at us. IN our OWN backyard!  Neighbors are reporting the same aggression. One young man was cornered in his own garage by this damned dog. When the dogs are contained, 10 feet from my bedroom window, they bark ALL DAY LONG.  I've contacted animal control, the offending neighbor, and all the surrounding neighbors. The offending neighbor just lies and says, "We don't let them run free and they are nice, quiet dogs".  No victim or authority is interested in helping me address this. Animal Control won't do anything unless several of us can prove the aggression happened at the same time, on the same day, in the same garage. Of course, that's not going to happen. We're all being bullied at different times each day. Animal Control refuses to help until someone is killed or several of us can be attacked at the exact same time, and in the same garage, and all are willing to report it on the same form.

My anger is EF-ing me bad. My childhood was one where I was not bullied by a bully. I was bullied by my entire school, priests, teachers, nuns, AND my own parents and siblings. No one ever stood up for me. My parents and church forbid me from ever defending myself. I was told, a thousand times, to ignore the bullying and don't fight back. I became suicidal at only 12, because I couldn't find ANY other way out of the victimization that was my daily life. Today, my neighbors are all hiding in their houses waiting for me to AGAIN solve their problems for them, and guess what's happening to me. I'm shrinking. I'm 7 years old again. No one cares about my being bullied by these neighbors. I'm the house closest to the incessant barking by several dogs that are always on the verge of escaping their broken-down fence.

My wife has the tendency to let me deal with our problems also. She also works during the day and doesn't have to deal with the barking. She never goes outside, so she isn't threatened by their teeth. So even she isn't grasping the anxiety I'm feeling right now.

I wear construction grade over-the-ear ear protection now. I went onto Amazon and ordered 3 pairs with the highest decible reduction rating available. All three will bluetooth to my iPhone so I can turn on calming music. I wear these all day long INSIDE my own home, and outside when I use my bbq or smoker for our dinner. I wear them to bed. I'm a prisoner in my own home, just like I was a prisoner in my parents' home, and a prisoner in my abusive Catholic school for my entire prepubescent childhood. EF, EF, EF, EF. I'm shaking right now with adrenalin, or cortisol, or, just plain trauma. I don't know what's coursing my veins, but it's not peace or honey or love.

Yesterday I made a decision. I told my wife that on Monday, the day after Christmas, I'm moving to the cottage at the beach. Not temporarily this time. I told her I'm changing my address and moving there permanently. I can't find another solution. I'm a Fawn>Freeze>Flee>Fight. I fawned. I tried to fix the fence for these idiots. But my knees are so arthritic right now that after I spent $700 on fencing and concrete, and carried it all, board by board into my back yard, my knees gave out. Now I have the flu and can barely breathe from bronchitis, so I can't start digging post holes and framing up a fence. It's snowing here this week. The ground is saturated. Fence posts won't hold if I plant them in soup. I have to wait until the ground dries before I start planting posts. I tried to get them to shut the dogs up. It didn't work. So I froze. I bought hundreds of dollars worth of headsets, dog repellant electronic barking controllers, Automated Dog repelling sprinklers that will activate and blast them with water if they enter my yard. Freezing isnt working, so I'm fleeing. It's who I am. It's what I do. My wife says she's fine with my decision. She can come to the beach and visit me anytime she gets 3 or more days off work in a row. I will return to the city for a few days every month or two so I can visit her, my kids, my grandkids. I can come to the city for doctors appointments, dental work, Ketamine Infusions. I can mow the lawn, trim the trees, then get in the car and head straight back to my own private, quiet home.

I've come to realize that I'm not healed at all. I've learned to understand why I do what I do, but I don't seem able to control it. People don't like to hear me say this, but this is the honest to god truth. I believe, in my heart of hearts, that most human beings are bad to the core. I believe that only a small percentage of us are actually kind people. I believe this forum is a collection of good, frightened, loving, caring people who've found each other after spending our lives in a ravaged, warring world of bad neighbors, bad politicians, bad corporations, bad police officers, bad doctors, bad city officials, bad, bad, bad, selfish, selfish, aggressive, selfish monsters.

I had two parents, a brother and three sisters. My baby sister was a good soul. She and I made up the good half of our family. That half was not half, it was 2 against 5. The other 5 of them were selfish, lying, cheating, ignorant monsters. They used our kindness against us. My baby sister took her own life, and I've made many close call attempts of my own. My family is what I see the world as. 70% bad selfish, self-entitled bullies, and 30% kind, giving, loving victims of the bad bullies.

My wife is letting me move to the beach because she can see how my anxiety is killing me right now. The dogs aren't bothering her, but she can see what they're doing to me. She knows I have no intention of getting involved with any other woman. She knows I'll never hook up with anyone ever again. She knows I spend all my time alone at the beach. We have some friends there. She trusts them. Trust is the reason we can be apart for long periods without wondering what the other is doing. She's the only person I could stay with, and I can't even stay with her 100% of the time.

I was born anxious. Reports are I was lifting my head and staring the nurses eye to eye on the day I was born. Reports are it was some kind of an amazing event that made the nurses call their friends in to see. Research I've done on Highly Sensitive People (HSP)s report that this is common with HSP babies. Highly Sensitive People are highly sensitive to sound, fear, other people, emotions, trauma, light, temperature, Anxiety, depression, drugs and medications. We're "strung too tight" from birth.

I've stopped being ashamed of this. I've stopped trying to be "normal". I've stopped caring that people like to give me quips and quotes like "A smile is just a frown upside down" and "if life hands you a lemmon..." Chronic, medical anxiety is not cured by reciting poster sayings to us.  But continuing to believe that the cure is just one more new medication, or one more self-help book away, or just one more fast-talking seminar talk away, is just plain stupid.

I am an anxiety ridden, loving, caring, easily victimized, trauma victim. I embrace it. Rather than more self-help books, tea flavors, bedroom scents of lavender, I'm now spending my money on noise cancelling headsets, dark sunglasses, black out curtains for my bedroom, and a bicycle that can carry me to the beach where I can lay in the cold sand and just listen to the roar of the surf for as long as it takes to calm down. And if I have to do this every day, then so be it.

I'm sorry for the anxiety in this post. But it's only a fraction of what I'm feeling right now. The events of these neighbors, whom I've driven to the airport, I've watched their homes for them when they leave for vacation, I've fed their animals, On one instance I even got my major city's entire police force to apologize to us for one bad officer who abused two little boys on my street because one of the boys was black and the other was Mexican. The cop was a racist loser who tormented them and cited them for causing an accident because they were standing on the sidewalk when another racists neighbor tried to run them over with his boat trailer. There was a line of water that came out of the boat, the clearly ran up onto the sidewalk and over the crushed bicycle of the 7-year-old mixed race Mexican boy while his 12-year-old mixed race black brother (White mom, two different dads) heroically yanked the little guy off the bike WHILE the white * neighbor drove up and over the bike while screaming obscenities at them both. He drove the boat trailer home, parked it and walked back to the crime scene. The racist POS cop refused to talk with any adults. He lied all over the report, saying the truck and boat were parked there at the scene, and the boys were at fault for the "incident." I was so fuming angry I called the watch commander and pulled enough strings that I had at the time, that I got the Department to reopen the case, reinterview ALL the witnesses, including the adults, cite the driver of the tuck and boat with reckless endangerment and then apologize profusely in several neighborhood meetings for how their department handled the original case. 

And now, my neighbors won't even report these dogs to help me find a way to live in my own home and fenced in backyard without mace in my pocket and headsets on my head IN MY OWN HOUSE AND YARD.

Nope. Most people are inherently BAD and selfish.

I am 7 years old again and everyone is siding with the priests/bullies so they don't have to get involved.

[CrackedIce]

Ugh, I hate this for you Papa Coco.  I totally relate with the flashbacks and shame and anxiety about having to deal with others' ignorance, aggression, apathy.  One of the things I've found is that in being a fawn type, others often take advantage that we're the 'doers', even if they don't know they're doing it.  "Oh, he's so helpful and able to get things done" while inside we're struggling because of the trauma-enforced need to do something, anything, about it. 

I'm glad you're able to find a temporary solution for now and have a plan going forward, but hate that it's come to this.  Hopefully you're able to have some level of relaxation over the next few days.