Distant

"To heal the wound,

you have to go into the dark night of the soul."

~Tori Amos

Three ibuprofen and one acetaminophen for discomfort. We were out of ibuprofen for a while there so it’s nice to have some now. I had just left Daryll to play with Violet as she got her bath. Her happy squeals and laughs became surprisingly distant for only being one room away with the doors open. Most of today was spent feeling as distant as the echoes of her sweet little voice. I was sucked into that strange dreamscape again. It’s been happening to me for years but lately it’s been much more frequent. As I’ve learned, it is a fairly typical symptom of PTSD.  I was skeptical about the diagnosis for a while but now I am seeing things in myself and I’m understanding more about how extensive it is. It’s as if it’s become so ingrained that it stretches through my whole body, running like skinny tendrils all alongside my veins. The nightmares, the disassociation with reality, the anxiety and self-esteem issues…the fascination with it all. It’s like I took a wrong turn somewhere as I was traveling toward the exit of my cancer-world and I have found myself in a dark wood filled with haze. A lot has changed since my journey through this place fifteen years ago. Maybe I simply forgot the way.

This really isn’t as bad as it sounds. As I said, I’m really quite fascinated by it. Of course there are some awful days and I’ve got a lot to work through. What amazes me is figuring out where certain parts of it stem from and how some of the coping mechanisms I’ve had my whole life have somehow become part of this greater thing. Very little of it if any is from the cancer. I find this somewhat hilarious for reasons I have trouble explaining. Some days I’m barely able to function, but I know that over all this is a good thing. This is an opportunity to banish old demons. Unfortunately this first requires hunting them down. I wish I had a falcon to guide me…or an Australian wedge-tailed eagle.

Making jewelry, spending time with my little family, and listening to music are my links to the “real” world…or at least the one I’m trying to get to. Violet and I went to the Portland Aquarium with a friend and her daughter a few days ago. It felt good to go on a little adventure. It was so cute to see her run around to the different tanks and play in the tide pool made from an old boat. She was more interested in splashing in the water with her hands than anything. She really enjoyed splashing in the stingray and shark tank…so much so that when I finally had to carry her away from it, she had her first public meltdown. That was quite an experience! Even so, it was a good day and I wouldn’t trade watching her get lost in her enthusiasm and wonder for anything. These are the things that make my life matter. This is how I know I’ll be alright.

Coming Home to Myself

Two things came to me this morning that have been so scarce for so long. This morning as I watched Violet eat her breakfast, I felt a peace and a power like my true self had come home...and she brought my poet with her.

Today

the trees outside

are tall

and silent.

Sentinels keeping watch

in cool and quiet

morning air.

Today

I sit at the kitchen table

looking back at them,

feeling a calm sort of vigilance.

Feeling cool

and at the ready.

Feeling the strength within.

Today

I am the silent warrior,

the guardian of my home,

my world,

my peace.

Tall like the trees,

unbreakable.

My Place in the Ocean

Slipping from this world

on a quiet bench

as unseeing

and unknowing shoppers

pass by like

ghostly holograms.

I feel safe

on my tiny mental island

as life and emotion

create my own

luminous ocean.

I was a mall employee in my early twenties when I wrote that. I had a long black trench coat, my portable CD player, and bus fare as I didn’t even have my license to drive, let alone own a car. Having survived cancer only a few years before, much of my outlook had improved greatly. I had also been getting into my art again. This made sense, since I worked in a frame shop. Even still, I was lost. I didn’t know where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. I knew that I wanted to find my purpose and create a future for myself. I just didn’t know where to turn or how to go about it. I had tried some college and realized that I didn’t have it in me to stick with it…at least not at that time. It was during this period of my life that I named myself “The Girl on the In-Between”, possibly in a poem. I had spent my entire life feeling like I was never really anywhere and I couldn’t find a place where I fit.

After years of struggle and stress (most of it completely avoidable), I had finally made a decision to let go of the life I hated and quest for the life I wanted. I was in my thirties (still am, thanks), had found my husband, and I had become absolutely done with the uncertainties and stresses of not being in control of my life. I embarked on a new and invigorating journey back to school and I was most certainly ready this time. At some point the need to get out far outweighs the fear of the uncharted.

It was early in this journey that the real life-changes began. George died after his five year battle. When brain tumors want to take a person, it is without mercy in speed and devastation. The most intense grieving of my life put me into a strange, painful, beautiful and surreal parallel dimension. The whole world began to shift around me and I decided that since nothing is guaranteed for anyone, there was no reason not to free myself from the life I hated. After the next tragedy, I walked away from what was no longer worth rotting in. I started to make the changes instead of just letting life happen to me. There were still struggles but it didn’t feel so futile. The world started to crumble again and I had my beautiful daughter. Things began to go right again. Things were getting better…until cancer decided to kick me around for a second time.

Fortunately, I’ve almost mastered rolling with the punches and learning from every kick in the gut. I’ve learned that there’s just not enough time to find all the meanings, answers and reasons. Sometimes there are no reasons, so you’ve got to create your own meanings and answer your own questions. Even when the world seems to be swallowing you and you’re in pain and you can’t make yourself leave your apartment unless you have to, you are still more free than ever before when you start honestly seeking your own truth while others are waiting for someone else to tell them. It’s the biggest weight lifted. I still live on the in-between so I remember to keep learning so I don't get stuck somewhere again. These days, my “tiny mental island” has three flights of stairs, a purple door, some animals, and room for my little family...oh and internet access.

Pharon looks so fancy in jewelry!

Overalls, sprinklers, and a garden

She lives for the park!

I turn stress and anxiety into shiny things.