Tag Archives: Pain

Thursdays Make Me Nervous

Ever since my wreck afew weeks ago, Thursdays make me nervous. When I am nervous and anxious I have to work extra hard to not switch, which makes me more nervous and anxious. Today I have an appointment that requires me to travel the road where I had my first flashback. I know many of you are thinking let it go, PTSD is not like that, you cannot. You live and relive, constantly. I am physically hurting and in emotional torment.

This afternoon I meet with my counselor. One of the things that I want to discuss with her is lately my emotions get so intense, but then if I want to express what is in my mind it is like someone takes a curtain and pulls it infront of my thoughts, and there is nothing there but the emotion.

I made my Mother a promise last week that I would not look up my symptoms on the internet, I have kept that promise. I just keep forgetting to ask my counselor about this. It has happened in therapy several times.

Gratefully, I just received the news that the first appointment was cancelled. I am already a nervous mess. I am going to turn on the TV and try to find something that I can get insterested in.

My Journey

Photo Credits: cdn.picturecorrect.com

My Journey

Screaming without a voice.
Trying to connect with a life
I do not recognize.
Words on a page or a screen
My identity.

Floods of daily tears,
Occassional flashes of me.
Nature’s storms outside raging,
Empathic reflections of
My inner tempest.

I no longer search for the old me.
I must rebuild.
Recreate.
Rediscover.
Fight for breath.

Pretending to be okay exhausts.
Living day to day.
Moment to moment.
Breath to breath.
My journey.

Tell All Tuesday: I Don’t Want To Cross That…

You have always heard we’ll cross that river when we come too it, well, I really did not want to cross it.

When the husband and I were first married he had to fly back to Oregon to finish up a few weeks of work and the move out of his apartment. I flew out there for a several days to meet his family and help pack up the U-Haul so he could be on his way HOME.

Waiting for me at the PDX with my new husband were the two cutest little girls. I had talked to them many hours on the phone and fell in love with them. They were the daughters of my heart. I was shocked how much Jenni, the oldest, looked like my middle sister. Kathy, immediately took my hand. They were cute and very sweet. My family. There were a couple of my husband’s friends there also.

I was a nerd with my step-daughters right from the start. We went to a Chinese restaurant that evening. I was so nervous still about being around my new family. Exhausted and nervous, not the best combination. Completely stuffed, but plenty of food left over, we asked for a to go box. The waiter brings a box and a bag. This is where I show my hick colors. The box was a Chinese box, I thought the bag went in the box, not visa versa, so I proceed to scrape the food in the bag. The looks the girls gave me, trying to stifle their laughter. When I felt all eyes on me I looked up at my husband and he asked what I was doing, I looked at him confused. I explained that I thought the food went in the bag and the bag in the box. The girls could not hold in their laughter then, that is when I looked up and noticed several of the wait staff looking at me funny too. I finished putting the food in the bag, and dropped int it the box. “See, it will not leak.” I am surely a country mouse, visiting the city.

A few weeks before when we were in Helen on our honeymoon we saw a spruce tree, if I remember it said something about being the largest one in Georgia. It was HUGE, I was shocked. The husband laughed, and said that it was hardly a twig. On my Oregon adventure, I understood what he meant. I imagined Jack and the Bean Stalk as I looked at these trees reaching into the heavens. We dedicated a day to going up to Seaside, and on the way we stopped that the historic World’s Largest Sitka Spruce on the Klootchy Creek. We would spend the day doing the tourist thing, and the evening I would meet the in-laws at our informal reception.

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I was amazed at its size. There were six of us, and we linked our hands and did not even reach halfway around it. It was massive. How massive was it? Well, it stood 216 feet tall, measured 56 feet in circumference and had a crown that spread 93 feet. Yes, MASSIVE!

After we hefted my jaw off of the soggy Oregon ground from beholding such a sight, we when exploring the surrounding forest and walked down to the creek. I thought Georgia red clay was slick, it has nothing on green slimy wet Oregon forest moss. I was filming everything with a video camera that had been my Uncles that died the year before.

The husband in his exploring takes us to a tree that crosses a small brook off of the creek. The girls had on flip-flops, my shoes did not have grips, they might as well been ice skates. I told him I was not comfortable with crossing the green moss-covered log. I knew I would fall, and ruin my Uncle’s camera. As persistent as I was not to, he was persistent that we would. He said to hand him the camera. I still did not want to. He kept begging and then made the sounds of a chicken. Not exactly what you want your new husband to do, and you do not want your step-daughters to think you are holding them back, nor the friends we were with. I finally, against my better judgement and succumbed to peer and spousal pressure. As I stretched to hand him the camera, my left foot slipped on the green goo sliding under the log, the rest of my body fell straight back. I felt a snap and awful pain.

Now I am covered in goo, in pain, embarrassed, mad that he didn’t listen, worried about having to hike back out of the forest. He helped me up and back to the car. We headed up the road towards Seaside. I could feel my foot swelling. Oh it hurt so bad, I tried not to focus on it. I did not want anyone to know how badly I was hurt. Pride. Isn’t that supposed to proceed before the fall, NOT after.

I wanted everyone else to go crawl around in a pig sty too so we would match. I was ashamed to get out anywhere, even to eat, but I did. We stopped to eat at the yummy fast food Mexican restaurant Taco Time. Crispy Chicken Burritos…And stuffed Tator Tots. I’ll trade you Taco Bell for Taco Time.

I was trying hard not to limp at this point, but my foot was insanely painful. Gratefully when we arrived at the beach a couple of things happened. You can drive on the beach there, so not too far to walk, and the water is ice-cold. It helped with the swelling. Every time I jumped the waves I felt my foot pop and grind, but I was bonding with the girls. That was important to me.

Leaving the beach was amusing to put it mildly. I said we could drive on the beach, apparently you are not supposed to do donuts on the beach, especially when you are doing them in sync with your friend in the car behind you like you are dancing. The blue light that comes is not a disco strobe light. The police only pulls the last car over, and luckily we were not the last car, and we were really close to the entrance to the beach. I do not recommend beach dancing in a car, unless you have $758 burning a hole in your pocket.

Out of the water my foot decided it wanted to blow up, a shoe could no longer contain my secret. When he saw my foot for the first time he was shocked and not happy that I had hidden it from him. He wanted to find the nearest ER. I refused to go because we had our reception at his parents. We only had time to get home, take showers, and head over. My step-daughters, particularly the youngest stayed right by my side. It was so endearing.

By the time we arrived at the reception I no longer had an ankle, and displaying colorful shades of purple, red, and blue. Not quite how I expected my first meeting of my in-laws to be. Laying on my Mother-in-laws couch with my foot propped up with a bag of ice on it.

We went straight to the ER after the reception. Yes, it was broken. Once back in Georgia I was supposed to follow-up with an Orthopedic, I didn’t. So every month or so for six years my foot would re-break. I finally had surgery in 2011 to repair it. They removed bone. Even now the tendon hurts from the damage, but oh well, something to live with.

What is the moral of the story? I do not think there is one. P.S. It is quite a sad PS the Spruce Tree, known as Klootchy Creek Giant, succumbed to the December 2007 windstorm. That is why I kept referring to it in the past tense.

Lillie’s Pain Analogy

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I love this girl. Though she is my parents pup, her little heart beats in unison with mine. I suppose there are several reasons. I was the one who found her on Craigslist. My Daddy and I picked her up on a really rotten day for me. When her little toothless piglet looking self was handed to me it was instant love. During her first vet appointment the vet was very concerned for her survival. Between the dishonest breeder pulling her away from her mom too soon, to the genetic issues that she has from inbreeding, TLC was what it would take to make the cutest girl from Lakeland, Georgia thrive.

Thriving she is. She has gain two pounds, weighing in at a whooping 2.6 lbs. Today she went to have her second set of Parvo and Distemper Shots. Poor poor angel girl.

About two hours after the shots she started hurting really bad. Crying out when she was put down. crying if my Daddy held her. Crying when Heidi licked her. I called my Mother to she how her appointment went and I could hear my girl crying. I wanted to cry. Mother was trying to cook lunch, but every move she made Lillie Pie would cry out. I could not stand it. I told Mother I come down and relieve her to so she could cook.

When I walked in Lillie saw me and immediately tried to get to me, crying loudly the whole time. broke my heart into a thousand pieces. She didn’t know why moving hurt. Wrapped in her pink blankie, she finally relaxed in my arms and went to sleep.

So where is the analogy?

PTSD and Depression is like what Lillie experienced today. She went through the traumatic experience, but the pain did not hit, really hit until hours later. Then every time she thought about it, even in her dreams she would scream out in pain. I am sure she is sore, do not get me wrong, but the screams coming from this baby were so horrible. Unbearable agony. She did not know why she was in pain, she did not associate it with the shot anymore. As a matter of fact, at one point I noticed that she shied away from her blanket. I think she thought that her blanket was her tormentor. Often with PTSD we see those that are trying to comfort us as tormentors because we do not understand what we are feeling and experiencing and on what side of reality we stand during the experience. Nor do those that are trying to help use, and in helping us they sometimes bring us pain.Another thing that I thought about, and I recently talked to a dear friend about this as I tried to help them validate their feelings of childhood sexual abuse. You sometimes have very intense emotions that you cannot put your finger on a reason, I have always told my husband that. I am mad, sad, upset, or whatever, but I do not know why. My way of describing this to my friend was amputee victims having fathom feelings itches or pains in the limb that is no longer there. Phantom emotions cause similar experiences. Being detached whether it be time or geographically from the abuse and abuser, yet still experiencing the phantom emotions. You have them without thinking about your abuse, the feelings are just there, and much like the amputee, learning how to deal with phantom emotions is a key to healing and it is a journey. They will never go away completely as we will learn coping skills, we can begin to feel whole again.

Monday Morning Crazies…Wait It’s Friday!

My alarm went off late this morning. I did not mind that one single bit. I do not have anywhere to be, since my alarm is a 76 lb yellow labrador barking that she is ready to pee and ready for breakfast. For the longest time she had gotten into habit into waking up at 4:30, but I broke her of it, recently it started back. I am so glad that today she let me sleep in until 5:55.

We really named Daisy Mae and Gage wrong.

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They should have been named after these two people instead.

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That’s Bonnie and Clyde. See he has black hair, she has blonde. They were quite the furtive pair.

Our morning routine Bonnie Daisy wakes me up, I then let her and Clyde Gage out in the fenced in back yard to do their business, while I quickly do mine and get their breakfest ready. It takes all of 5-7 minutes. On a normal morning, they would be eagerly waiting at the door to come in. Not today. They were no were to be found in the backyard.

I ran to the bedroom and told Jethro that our fugitives had once again escaped. I took off on foot, going through the neighborhood yelling their names. Looking in the wet ground for Gage’s mamoth paw prints. Listening for dogs barking. The only ones I heard were these tiny furry little things yapping. I love small dogs, I grew up with small dogs, my family has small dogs, but I sure wished they would’ve hushed this morning. So I could listen for my two.

Jethro quickly came in the car. He went the opposite direction. Driving the streets, up and down. Neither of us took time to grab our glasses. I yelled for Daisy and Gage, and walked the streets, yelled and walked, walked and yelled. Listening for any sign. My feet, back, and throat ached. I was almost in tears. Wondering if yesterday was the last time I snuggled with them.

I prayed, please bring them to me. I did not know where to look. Honestly at this point I did not know if I was going to make it home myself without calling someone. My breathing was pretty bad. Please Heavenly Father, you know where they are.

Just then from behind me I heard eigh feet pounding on the wet dirt road rushing me. i turned around. I do not know who was smiling bigger. Them or me. They had obviously gotten lost in their roaming. Daisy did not want to leave my side. She looked at me at one point exhausted as if to say, “Mom, can you pick me up?” If my back were not killing me, and I was still fighting to keep Gage close by I would have tried. We kept stopping to catch our breath on the way home.

When finally inside the house, she collapsed on the bathroom floor exhausted. Both are sleeping soundly in their kennels now, safe. I have said many prayers of gratitude.

I have chased those prayers with Ibuprofen for my back, my feet up from the blisters, I am breathing fine now, and I might end up hoarse from calling their names, but it made me think. I believe faith is a principle of action. I could not just pray for them to come home, I needed to do my part to make it happen, when I did my part, He showed them the way to find me.

I love stories with happy endings.

Where’s My Calgon and Dream Garden Tub When I need It?

Today’s post going to be short and sweet, well at the very least short. My head feels like a bowling ball with an arrow stuck through over my left eye that pulsates with every heartbeat. I suppose I was was tense last night in my sleep too, I awoke with my hands clinched. My left thumb happened to be in the middle of that fist, now it that joint is all puffy and really sore.

Isn’t this the Sabbath? I know it is. One the girls that I teach at church is getting baptized today, well was baptized today. She was and two of her cousins. I am so sad that I feel like poo! I wanted to share in their special day. I hated missing church and the baptisms. My girl was so excited last week.

I did it to myself. Yesterday we served a family after a memorial service. I am highly sensitive to chemicals. Some of the tables had mildew from being in storage. I went and started cleaning them. I kept telling myself, get someone else to do this. Finally somone else commented on the smell, and my Mother said you are going to have a migraine. She jumped in and took over. I have been in bed since about two hours after that.