Tag Archives: personal

Days later, the pain continues …

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I was once asked by a yoga teacher what freedom would look like for me. It was an easy answer. Sleep, restful, nonscary sleep would be such sweet freedom.

And, in this moment, I would also choose to stop shaking. I’ve been shaking off and on all day today. I talked about the Freddy Bear post today in therapy. I still cry when I read it. Out of all of my posts, it’s the only one that makes me cry again and again and again. I had no idea that I even had any pain or loss around Freddy. Up until I wrote about him, if you had asked me about him I would have described him as my youngest brother with whom I am not very close. Period. I would not have thought about it any further than that.

I would like to write further, but this is too hard for me right now, so I’ll sign off for now.

Pull those weeds!

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Garden Weeds

The floatiness came upon me when I woke up this morning, and it would not leave. It stayed like an unwanted guest. All day I felt like I was walking in swaths of cotton. I texted my friend Jack, and he had an idea, or at least I thought he had an idea:

Jack: Come over and weed my garden. It’s therapeutic 🙂

Me: Ok. I’ll come over after dinner around 7.

Jack: Seriously? I was kidding, but you’re welcome to weed if you like.

I had not weeded a garden for decades. My grandmother’s garden was the last garden I ever worked in, and “worked in” is putting it loosely. I puttered in there, and she worked.

As soon as I arrived, I dove right into pulling those damn weeds. The earth in my fingernails felt real and grounding. I pulled those weeds, and after a while, I was pulling my mother’s hate, her wrath, self-loathing, and rage. I pulled as if I was pulling those demons out. I would still be out there pulling, but night fell, mosquitoes came, and my body hurt. I think I have dirt in my teeth, but the floatiness is gone.

(Photo credit: Auntie P)

Not the couch again …

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Last night I may have bit off more than I could chew. My letter to Freddy Bear kicked my ass. I am surprised that this was the hardest piece thus far for me to write. I just started crying in the middle of it. Then I just slept on the couch. The couch is where I sleep when I am not doing well. My couch is very close to my front door, and my hyper vigilance kicked in, which meant that I would be catching zzz’s on that red couch.

Writing that piece broke a dam in me that I didn’t even know existed. I have to get it together because I have two papers due tomorrow in two graduate courses. Bad timing!

I did a whole bunch of things to try to feel better today:

  • I went to my favorite diner for Eggs Benedict,
  • Walked through Petsmart to see dogs,
  • Sat in the Barnes and Noble cafe and read dog magazines, and
  • I ate watermelon for dessert.

Still, though, I think I’m going to be sleeping on the couch again tonight.