Here it is, Friday night, and I was supposed to go to the "Reptile Man" show at our local community center with my daughter.
She l-o-v-e-s animals. Did I say love? That's an understatement.
But, I'm here, typing these words out on the screen instead. Sometimes I write for creativity, sometimes I write to convey, sometimes I write to explain my observations, sometimes I write to listen to others travel the same waters I have. I write because I can not imagine not doing so anymore. It's really that simple for me.
But, I digress. Often.
I have lost the use of my legs again. I am now relegated to walking my house like a bit of a swinging windmill to get from place to place. My knees have to be knocked and locked, and I use the different pieces of furniture as apparatus to slide myself along. I kind of have a rhythm about me, a cadence to how I move; it is like learning to walk backwards. I'm crawling again.
I missed her school concert last night. I am missing the “Reptile Man”. I am mad about being robbed of any time from the person which I treasure most in this world - my beautiful girl.
It is hard to write when times are like this. I write about the transcendence, and the lessons, and the light through the pain; all in hopes of making a lot of sense out of my little world.
But, the truth? It sucks right now. It flat out fucking sucks.
I don't like to show weakness of any kind, it is not easy for me. Being dependent has felt weak and hard and defeating.
The strange paradox is that I see crying as a strength now. I was threatened with my life for crying when I was young and I didn't allow 'them' the pleasure. I showed them what real strength is made of, I curled my spirit up next to my soul and hid out for years until I was on my own, safe, and could begin the arduous work of filtering through the horror of my childhood to find the real me, again.
I'm here now.
I went 'inward' probably about the time I was beginning to walk. I don't think it was one giant decision and 'poof' I just left my body to the hands of criminals. I think it happened over time as each abusive act chipped away at my personality, my consciousness, and my body.
But they could never take my spirit. They could never touch that.
I have made a shift in my recovery from trauma out of what they call the Earthquake phase into the Big "T" phase. I was in the Earthquake phase for over 3 years. It has been a rough ride.
About three weeks ago, I saw the rash on my arm come back. I saw my body swelling up again; I noticed my speech becoming intermittent; my energy was not what it has been. I didn't want to think about it. I pushed it down and aside -- just like survivors do.
But, avoiding it is only a temporary answer.
Three days ago my legs gave out and they are not coming back for awhile. How do I know?
They told me.
Great...now the writer you thought you knew is sounding completely nut balls. I know. It sounded crazy to me at first, too. I have been the recipient of the best alternative health support I believe wo/man has on this planet while simultaneously finding amazing supplemental support from traditional care. Seattle is a mecca for alternative health anwers.
Trust me, I didn't go looking for 'alternative methods'; they showed up after many, many, many horrible trials at hospitals and doctors offices. I have found some good ones now.
One of the main modalities which has aided in my physical healing is a process called NMT (Neuro-Modulation Technique). Don't bother looking it up if you're a science type - you won't believe it. If you’re not, information can be found at www.nmt.md.
Basically, its intuitive healing based on the consciousness of the body. I have overcome blindness, noise sensitivity, muteness, MS-like symptoms, seizure activity, lymphatic edema, fibromyalgia and much, much more. Oh, and reflux. I hate the reflux so it bears standing alone.
My body turned into a veritable disease trial when bits of trauma began releasing. It had to hold all the unprocessed emotions somewhere for years and years and it has basically short-circuited the whole system in the most unpredictable ways as each trauma is released.
It has felt like having a crap shoot of symptoms and never really knowing what is going to come and what is going to go; when, or for how long.
(BTW: ‘nut balls’ is a term of endearment in my house. It comes from the Junie B. Jones series for K-2 that my daughter and I read together, in case you are wondering.)
Recovering from my trauma has provided me with a lot of joy AND a lot of heartbreak. Sometimes it's easy to want to make things all one way, or only want to share the 'good stuff.' It is important for me to remember that a paradox is an AND not an OR.
Right now, I am down, physically debilitated again, and in a grieving cycle on top of it. I didn't know how to write about that until I just started punching the keys.
You see, I didn't feel like I was being honest with those of you who read me. I heard myself give a friend some advice about "not making decisions for people" as in "let them decide what they can handle" and I wasn't thinking about my own situation. Why wasn't I trusting you? I guess I needed a dose of my own medicine.
So here I am. Raw. Really me. Legs not working, heading into another phase of recovery which is taking a physical toll on me, and trying to live with the naked-truth of that out in the open rather than pretending "it's all okay."
I will be okay. But, what happened to me was just, not, fucking, okay. I just need to say that today.