Early waking

These last few weeks have been a pain in my butt. I have not been getting proper sleep. I wake about 5:30 am. I hear the early morning commute. If I had something to do other then smoke cigarettes I wouldn’t be so annoyed with being up so early. I beat the baby and definitely my husband who would sleep all day i if he could. I don’t work. I have no early morning appointments. I have no interest in cleaning until later in the morning. It’s all very frustrating. My therapist calls it early waking. Says I should check into taking a bit of melatonin. I might just try it.

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Sneaky anxiety

Sneaky sneaky anxiety. It hides under blankets and socks. Hides under smiling eyes and peeks out. Makes your forehead warm and your feet cold. Sneaky emotions… Making a quiet house seem so large and so small at the same time. Walls and closed doors just waiting to be banged on because you just can’t get out. They aren’t locked… But you feel like they are. Too much time on the clock. Ticking down, but not fast enough. The sun sinks slowly and the birds have their evening chatter before they sleep for the night. But We’re still awake. Clean house still full of cludder and a little one that has so much energy. But the sneaky emotions fall on top of me. My head hurts. My heart aches. I need just a little release. Take a little pill, and a little break. Only 2 more hours until I’m not alone in this place.

Long Friday

My days have been longer. I wake way too early and can’t get back to sleep. Kiddo wakes and I don’t want to get out of bed, but I do. When I’m alone, I am sad. When I am not alone I am sad. My emotions control me more when my husband is around. I have him to fall back on so I can just cry. It makes him sad or worried to see my tears, but he stands strong for me. On days like today, keeping it together is easier. I have Grace to myself 6 am to about 7 pm. Yesterday trying to figure out how to pass time and hoping someone would take her for a bit was overwhelming. When someone finally did say yes I had relief. Now I am Nervous about when. But I feel the relief still, which is good. I feel alone even though I’m with my kiddo. Time is still passing and it feels good. Now breakfast is over and getting dressed is the task at hand. I’ve already taken several breaks for coffee and taking my medication. The closer I get to walking out the door, the more nervous I get about breaking down. I look to the sun and the mild (thank goodness) weather we have. Filling the next 10 hours seems endless. I will allow the TV and tablet to baby sit for short times, hopefully the car to allow her to sleep after a few hours of visiting Daddy and the Children’s Piazza (which both make me anxious now too many people). This is what I deal with most every day now. Hoping 8 am becomes 8 pm soon enough. I look forward most to pulling the blanket over me and watching a TV show to allow my brain some rest. If kiddo naps, I relax for an hour. Shut my brain off for a bit. That won’t be until later though and then I have to figure out how to deal with the next few hours until my husband gets home.

A father’s help

My dad visiting was a nice break, though I still have some flashbacks bothering me, they let me be for the most part. I was able to enjoy my father being here. He listened when I talked, but he didn’t make it his problem. He didn’t even act as if he was at fault, or feel guilty for not knowing. I’m not sure if he did, because he never really mentioned his feelings about it, except he knew Harry was bad then, but his guess was alot worse then he thought. Harry was the one who had sex with me when I was 8. He’s also the man that moved into our house and the one that Mom left Dad with. Now that Dad has left though, my flashbacks are back full force, so I’m attempting to keep my mind off them. Unfortunately I read some of my poetry again this morning. It reenforces the fact that he made me clean myself up after. He told me it was my fault he was doing it. These were all things bothering me before my dad got here, including the fact that I screamed for help out the window and he threatened to kill my brother. All things that I would have known not to be true had I only been older. My brother found a man by the same name still living at Pennsylvania Ave. In Hillside. I fear he has a whole family and that they don’t know who he was 30 years ago. In my mind, he was not the same man that moved into our house and left with my mom, and Kenny and I. But I do know it was him with the hand cuffs. It all ties together. My Dad told me, when I asked him why he was taking it so well, that he just wants me to get over this one day and be better. He said it sounded like a horror story and he thinks that I could write a best selling novel. The fact that he is so interested in my using my creativeness to move past this makes me feel good, and proud. He wants me to use my talents to get over this terrible movie playing in my head. I am so thankful that he can do this for me. Listen and encourage me. It’s really amazing.

Always awake

My mind’s eye is awake more then I.
Inside my head a whole world awaits.
I’m looking at pictures,
hearing myself yell for help.
Old movies on rewind, slowly unravel.
Giving my psyche and personality.
Urging it to talk to me.
Awaken and show me what you will.
Show me what you don’t think I am willing to see.
It shows at the most unwelcome times.
The times between awake and asleep.
Times of happiness,
the small child awakes and opens the gate. When will it be time? When can I say it’s ok? Because she isn’t always timely.
And no time is safe.
Fair is not something that works in this world
Hidden away.
It is unkind, unfairly trapped in the room.
Locked away.
When she feels love, she still hesitates.
I tell her to wait.
Must be confusing to be in my head.
Sorry child, there will be a time.
There will be a place.
Some time between now, and today, she will wait.

A mother’s love, a guiding Beacon.

I’ve been in a dark place with my writing, because I was missing something. I was missing the love of my mother. My mother was not cold and heartless. It was her illness that controlled her. It was the people around her that controlled her. It was the mistakes she made that controlled her and put me in harm’s way. I forgive her mistakes. I forgive the terrible person that the illness controlled. Seeing her sit beside me and telling me that I could sleep if I thought of good things, hearing her soothing voice has brought me to an understanding. Understanding that her love saved me too. She sacrificed us, so we could be free of the monster. So now I understand. With love I will see what happened and have God beside me. With love I need not fear the beast that holds me captive. Now I see how I can face this. Through my mother’s love, to guide me through, and God’s blessings to keep me safe. With you all standing by too, I will not be stuck. I will come back from this, and be in a better place for myself, and my family.

Cherished Warrior

Living with PTSD most of my life has actually helped me survive some pretty crazy situations. It’s allowed me to use it to know my surroundings. To meet pretty special people on my journey through life. It has taught me to listen to my body, to feel outside and in. To be aware more then maybe others. PTSD is a built in survivor skill. Not knowing I had it made it magical. Being able to feel spirits pass through me, being able to connect to friends that are in different states only by thinking of them. Learning to listen to my body, and know that certain foods and drinks would help it stay strong. How to sooth my mind when I became anxious in situations I didn’t even understand. How to help the people around me by singing a silly song. Teaching my daughter, while learning myself a second form of communication also came from this. My creativity and spirituality had a solid hand working side by side with PTSD, making every day a gift. Hypersensitivity if a side effect, I generally know if some one is behind me, but if I didn’t you may have received a backhand (some of you actually have). Senses on high drive, I love the smell of salt in the air, the roses in June, the crispness and quiet of winter air before, during, and certainly after a snow. The attention to details.
These days aren’t so great. My body physically replays some things now when I am in distress, but this curse, it was much a blessing these years. Only making me stronger. Only making me the best I can be. Remember, we all have a child inside that will only help you see amazing things. Cherish this when the world seems to heavy. For with it every day will be a gift.