Getting unstuck (hopefully)

Tags

Kinesiology, melted plastic, Stuck, unstuck, unstuckness, workshop, Yoga

Got a full schedule today. Heck, the whole weekend is a bit of a full schedule, but anyways…

After teaching my class at noon (fingers crossed the people who called actually show up!!), I’m heading off to this:

It’s so exciting! Nadine and Kerry’s workshop combines yoga and kinesiology with an emphasis on getting ‘unstuck’. Just like the title says!

I’ve got a lot of time for kinesiology (and of course, yoga!), because at the very beginning of trying to deal with PTSD, it was exceedingly helpful for me.

You can read about the slightly round-about way that I ended up seeing a kinesiologist right here. Funnily enough, I haven’t written about the treatments I had at the time – I think that part of my story is a little too compressed still. Even now. Kind of like trying to evaluate a piece of melted plastic where the former shape has collapsed into something indistinguishable.

Anyway, kinesiology is a very, VERY cool technique for helping shift energetic/emotional states, and I strongly suspect that at the time it was one of the things – no exaggeration – that saved my life.

Combine that with some yoga as led the fabulous Nadine, and I’m expecting today to be very powerful!

And the timing is awesome. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m feeling a little stuck  right now. Okay, A LOT stuck. I’ve been hanging out for this, and now it’s happening today. HOORAY!

The rest of this post contains bits and pieces of a comment I left on Nadine’s blog as well as her reply, which all kinda relates to unstuckness…

This is part of what I wrote:

…the braver we all are, and the more we share about our fears and bravery, the better it is for everyone in the long term. Here you are, doing your pioneering work of bravery and courage and hoping. And that does inspire others, including me!

Seems we’re all carrying these packages of loss and sadness and anger around and unless we learn to unpack them and deal with them effectively, it doesn’t matter how old we get, we’ll always be wishing life was different than it is.

And what I want is a life where I’m supremely happy to be wherever I am at all times…

Nadine’s reply comment was:

I got a bit teary when I read this! Because that is EXACTLY what the workshop is about. Finding a gentle way into the fun and pleasure of life just as it is. Now.

And I’m with you. I’m totally hanging out for the workshop too. Because all this stuff?

It’s coming up because it wants to be cleared.

And I sincerely hope (please-please-please-please) that she’s right!

Here’s to a more successful yoga teaching expedition today, AND to getting a little freer and happier!

Yep, gotta get some flow back in my life, stat!

And I recommend that you make sure you’re getting some flow happening, too. 🙂

~Svasti

Fear and panic – or – more stuckness

Tags

Badge of pain, EMDR, Eye Movement Desensitization & Reprocessing, Fear, Panic, Post-traumatic stress, PTSD, Stuck, Therapy

There’s so many other things I want to be writing on my blog right now.

I’ve got half a dozen draft posts dying to get out the door. But captivated by other things… I’ve been unable to write about those things, or finish my other posts.

And I’m pissed off about that.

Melinda commented on my last post – saying there seems to be a lot of fear running ’round for me right now. And how!

That post was a desperate attempt to explain something… I don’t really understand yet. It’s good that I wrote it though, because H read it (I trust her enough) and could then ask me questions to try and get to the point.

Which we sort of did.

The point would be, I’m going in circles right now. I’m super pissed that I can’t move beyond where I’m at. I feel like there’s a big, fat HUGE boulder smack bang in the middle of the path I’m travelling. There’s no easy way around it, not yet.

Every time I approach it, there’s a sense of incredible panic. The physical reactions of my body make me feel like I’m about to die. Not thinking I’m going to die – feeling it, in every cell. It’s happening in the moment.

If I’m in a therapy session, and we’re talking around/near this blockage, I literally feel like I’m choking, too. There’s an absolute tangible reaction and I cough – like crazy – trying to dislodge… whatever it is.

Then, there’s the residual knives in my heart pain, that takes ages to fade. And even as I think of it now… returns a little, reminding me… ooouuch.

This started when H asked me why I never say Andre’s name when I talk about him.

It’s literally the only thing that I’ve ever been really hesitant to talk about with H. Or anyone, for that matter. I think I might have written his name down in an email to some close friends right when it happened. I can say his name out loud when it’s just me. But I can’t talk about it to other people for some reason.

And because there’s this foundation there I can’t make myself go near… the pain, the terror, the horrendous emotions that go hand in hand with all of this refuse to gracefully fade.

Even though that’s what I want.

Unlike my mother, I don’t want to wear a badge of pain for the rest of my life. I don’t want to not get over it. I know that getting over it doesn’t mean that what happened wasn’t important. I absolutely know that!

And yet… here I am.

So. H suggested that because of the way I’ve described what’s going on, that I might benefit from a technique called EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization & Reprocessing).

From the website:

EMDR is an information processing therapy and uses an eight phase approach to address the experiential contributors of a wide range of pathologies. It attends to the past experiences that have set the groundwork for pathology, the current situations that trigger dysfunctional emotions, beliefs and sensations, and the positive experience needed to enhance future adaptive behaviours and mental health.

I’m interested to give it a go, of course. When something isn’t working, try something new!

So now H has referred me to two of her colleagues. I need to call them and see who’s available/what works best.

Ha! Another potential opportunity to neglect myself, sit on my hands and not do anything for a while… But I’ll try not to do that. I will attempt to call them, work out which one to see and book in some time and so on…

~Svasti

Victim Mentality – or – Stuckness

Tags

PTSD, Stuck, Stuckness, Victim Mentality

I’ve felt a little fragile the past couple of days. Whilst I’m definitely not moaning about having a job (yay!), I am just a little exhausted from four full-on days in the world of employment. Especially after spending the past three months doing very little in the way of work. Ahem.

Closer to the bone, yesterday I read a story in our esteemed [*cough*] local rag about a politician accused of rape. I have no idea if he’s innocent or guilty. He says he’s not, she says he is.

And the media is just a shit heap of innuendo and twisted fabrication, so I choose not to take sides at all.

But what haunts me are quotes from the woman who accused him. They are disturbingly familiar in more ways than one. I think they acted as a bit of a trigger, if ever so mildly.

“I can’t have a relationship. I can’t go out. It’s like I’m a ghost,” she said. “I feel abused.” Before reporting the case she had “got to the point where I wouldn’t go out, I wouldn’t watch TV, I had a complete breakdown, I couldn’t hold a job.”

“I was spiralling downwards… Because I was spiralling, I pushed everyone away.”

“When I first went to the psychiatrist, I burst out crying. I said, maybe I deserved it. I said I don’t know what to do.”

“I have flashbacks, I can’t sleep, when anything reminds me of him, especially the smell, the body odour.”

I’ve been in all of these places and more.

There’s no doubt in my mind this woman suffered some kind of trauma – there’s a wince of truth behind them, their meter. An energy I recognise.

Whatever happened, I hope she gets the help and care she needs.

For the other thing I noted in what I read was that of a presiding victim mentality.

There’s a very subtle flavour there, referring her entire life and experience back to the (alleged) perpetrator. As though the incident also included being strung up with puppet strings, and he is the puppet master.

It’s a view of the world where she’s not in control. Her physical and emotional life can be upended without warning. It’s very unsettling and disempowering.

And… it’s also a place of being ‘stuck’ – possibly for a very long time.

There’s no healing there, no moving forwards. The longer one stays in this place, the harder it is to get out.

This is what I sense behind her words, and it terrifies me still. The Stuckness.

Possibly because it’s not so long ago that I had a rental in that part of the world.

Without wanting to sound harsh… for most people (some circumstances I’m sure are tougher than others), it is completely achievable to climb out of that “victim” state of mind.

None of us have to stay there although many people buy property there and call it home.

I didn’t escape unscathed. Definitely not – I dove headlong into the abode of Stuckness. I’m not sure if it was being stuck or the PTSD that came along first – but they’re definitely related and feed each other jealously.

However, I’m not criticising myself or anyone else. The way people get through traumatic experiences is completely unique. It should take exactly as long as it takes. Using whatever tools work.

There was a point at which I started to take responsibility for my own actions, and began to separate them from the trauma. Making choices based on what I could control instead of what I couldn’t.

Suddenly I was able to clearly see Andre as a very troubled person, and whilst I was unfortunately in the way when he lashed out, what he did really had nothing to do with me.

He no longer appeared in my memories as so frightening. Although the imprint of his angry eyes remained burned into my retinas – only recently fading into the background.

So yeah, whilst the “symptoms” remained and continued to spew a warped story, my view expanded to see the bigger picture. I took myself out of the central position of “victim star of the piece”.

It’s not the one-size-cures-all pill I know many of us would love, but it’s a start.

~Svasti