Tag: anxiety

Writers Block

I’ve been trying to write for weeks.

It is something that sustains me, it is something that heals me and when I don’t feel heard it as a way to make my voice amplified, to connect and not feel so stuck in my head.

There’s been points in my life where I stepped away from it, much to my detriment.

A few years back, with a renewed energy the stories began to pour out, I committed to working on the shadow side of myself, and from there a few narratives were born. There was some collaboration, tidal wave of inspiration and such trust that the stories and essays would flow.

While this particular bout of writer’s block feels like it came on just after the start of the pandemic, truly, when I look back, it has been a slow death since last fall.

First the fiction. There was the death of two cherished characters. They showed such promise and longevity, and were exhilarating to write.

But unfortunately that once promised epic story has became representative of what has become a bittersweet and painful period for me. In a tortuous narrative, (as devastating as I felt) they met their end. Silenced, stopped in mid journey. In the ether they now languish.

Though I did find the courage just before shut down to submit a short version to a few publications.

There has been a fair amount of interest in what may have come next and some suggestions for editing. The real possibilities to see it in print.

But now I am frozen. I can not bring myself to open the file, to polish it up and let it move forward. I did not anticipate how raw I still feel about all that was lost at that time, including the grief about the two leads. How much I miss them. How much they still have to say.

I’ve been able to hiccup some poems and the odd paragraph out, but even the ability to write essays has withered.

Those are my best connection to navigate the world around me and my mental health. But it has been near impossible to write anything I feel confident with.

I want to add hope, insight and support to the people that read my stuff. But all I can muster is despondent rage, and no adequate words to explain.

Life as we knew it has always had its hardships. But this global clusterfuck has added a layer of grimy soot that has not left anyone untouched.

I wait… wait for the words to come. I hope that there are characters choose to speak. I hope the characters ( myself) I laid waste to may someday forgive me. I wait for wisdom, knowledge and hope to share. I wait for the insight to be able to move through, over, under or around this block that feels insurmountable.

I wait….

Realizations of the soul

I closed my eyes to the sun. It’s early morning fire burning behind my lids. Do the Gods hear me?

I pray the heat ignites my determination. Keep moving forward, it’s the only place to go.

Pull the brambles from my cloak as I keep moving towards the light, away from this dark bog, fraught with prickles, poisonous thorns and things that bite from the shadows.

I call out, the echo answers.

Exhausted, my flesh longs to rest on the cool moss, allowing the bog to swallow me whole.

Slow through the mud, each step a 1000 pounds.

Will I find myself? Will I find the soul kin I believed were there? Was this all just a theatre for the trickster’s amusement?

When I was nameless, I could feel them, hear them.

I claimed my name, they faded violently from my grasp.

I open my eyes to the sun. Memories serve only to puncture.

The only message from the Gods is too keep moving, nameless once again.

Moon

I closed my eyes. Let Her silver glow wash over me.

The words I long to have heard, I speak to Her through still lips.

The coolness of the air prickling my skin, little reminders of how alive I really am.

My cheeks are wet, I am comforted by her soft embrace.

Blessed are the children of the Moon, for no Mother is more forgiving of our shortcomings than She.

DM.

Growing Pains

You wake up one morning and feel it. 

You can’t ignore it any more You’ve been talking a great game – but action? Nah, fear holds you back. 

This morning I knew- what I thought had been a Phoenix rising moment for me a few years ago was completely false. There was only rising on wax wings. 

It was just the real beginning of my Tower collapse ( those of you familiar with Tarot will get the reference).

Aspects of my self had started emerging. Other pieces ripped away. Continually masks being pulled off. People moving in and out and around my life with alarming speed. Facilitating much creation, joy and destruction, grief. Wonderful things introduced to explore, teased and then taken away. My darkness and light mixing like ink and water. 

This last 8 months especially, I have felt raw. Pulled open, heart dissected. No skin, no face. A collection of demons, damage, scars, pain, faith, love, humility, inquisitiveness, hope and beauty. 

I jumped deep into exploring my Faith, Beliefs, Myself. Looking for reflections of myself in the things around me. Not always liking what I see. Falling deeply in love with who I want to be, and bringing her to life. This work is hard. This work is lonely. 

I still want my Village 

I still want my Circle

to celebrate and work with.

 But first I must find my Village within. My circle around myself. No one will accept me as I am, until I accept myself. 
It is not a straight line. It is ongoing. 

I am love. I am light. I am dark. I am sadness. I am joyful. I am powerful. I am weak. I am intense. I am needy. I am giving. I am compassion. I am empathy. I am love. I am broken. I am whole. I see the best in myself. I see the best in others. 
I have talents, gifts, knowledge and love to share. 

The fire is burning bright. The ashes will scatter. And finally the imperfect Phoenix will begin to rise. 

Tired Thoughts

Vulnerability is to be strong. So I have read. We all have the desire to be loved, encouraged and accepted for who we are.

There was so much more I was going to write. And part way through, I realized it is pointless.

Wether I am kind or cutting. Giving or closed off. It will never be correct as people put their own meaning on the things others do. We will always be the bad guy or the weak jerk in someone’s story, no matter the intent.

It’s easy to let that removed judgement defeat us. Turn us cold, label people as toxic, cruel – hold on to anger, hurt.
To stop trying, loving, understanding, trusting, accepting, respecting, connecting……. we do not allow vulnerability, where true healing is found.
We turn this on ourselves, to reinforce kindness comes with payment, we are unworthy of love and acceptance, we are unworthy of working towards better.
And so the cycle goes.

Whether I am a good character or bad character in the story you tell yourself- I can not change this. But I am learning to accept I am a whole character trying hard to hang on in a world that makes it very hard to be vulnerable, content, kind and forgiving.

❤️

Covid Rage

Here it is folks- This day’s contemplation rant, RAGE. 

I am tired. I have been trying for quite a while now to find the right words, to express myself about what is happening in my life, my community, my province, my country, my world. 

Humanity does not seem to be winning. I see so much fear, misinformation and emotional hostage taking, Random arguments picked. Desperation to get back to what was, with out considering the cost. Resistance to what could be, because it seems unclear. 

The din of voices drowning out common sense and decency. We are a bunch of selfish toddlers in this society. 

So, from my cosy little corner on the couch, with coffee in hand, well aware of the world’s ills and that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I shall say this with much frustrated love- 

SHUT THE FUCK UP. 

Just for a minute.

Everyone take a collective breath. 

Here it is as I see it (make no bones, I KNOW in so many ways I am privileged, but there is much of my life that has not been.) So here goes.

You- yeah you over there thinking your ‘rights’ are being taken away by being told to stay home, wear a mask and practice social distancing, putting off some vanity haircut, tanning whatever. Where the hell is your social consciousness?! Are you so selfish that you can not look beyond your own wants- make no mistake that is what they are, wants, not needs. Just because it might not be someone in your immediate circle affected does not mean it won’t eventually affect you- perhaps you aren’t invincible, you can get sick too. And to clarify, WE ALL have to right to be SAFE, not the ‘right’ for a dye job…… stop letting your privilege show.

And you over there- whining that we are being too cautious because the numbers in Canada have stayed relatively low- HOW else do you think that happened? Your logic makes as much sense as putting a helmet on immediately after falling off your bike and dripping your brains on the sidewalk. 

All the rally cries of all the things that kill more people a year- we know- but your comparisons are faulty, for most of your arguments about diseases, there are treatments (not perfect) available to help or those numbers would be much higher. For the comparisons about mental health, addiction, suicide and domestic violence, this current state of the world is going to elevate those numbers astronomically- this will be the third deadly wave of the pandemic. SO rather than wringing your hands what are we going to do? How are you going to be proactive, so the numbers don’t get any higher. By the way, as of this writing over 320,000 people have died from this single virus )

Now, let’s move past us average folks, who by and large are really doing the best we can with what we have. Most of our anger, fear and frustration comes from what we are being shown and told by the powers that are in charge. The bullshit some of you are willing to buy into. Look what it’s turning you into, turning you blind to…….This is where my real vitriol is. 

There are many I could call out by name, not just the few I am willing to, but these are just the examples of what horrifies me most about the world I am raising my daughter in.

Hey, Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson, Kevin O’Leary, Brett Wilson, and all of you with more money that you actually need. Put your money where your mouth is. 

You want congrats Jeff for providing your staff T-shirts that say Frontline hero’s ? Fuck you- pay them living wages, proper benefits. 

Hey Brett, how would your Grandparents or Mom feel about knowing you think their lives are expendable? Proud they raised such an upstanding man? 

Same for you Richard, you could help out the poorest of the poor, and it would not even cause a major hiccup in your bank account. 

And Kevin, your politic of putting money before the well being of the average person is disgusting. 

But hey, if the politicians are going to allow it and play ball in your arena then it must be ok. Right?! 

You tell them the only way to get our economy going is to listen to you because ‘look what we’ve built’- beats chest mightily in the process…. On who’s backs? The people you won’t take care of, but will willingly sacrifice to illness and death, which is more likely due to socioeconomic standing than luck. 

And all you ‘self made millionaires’, 

1: You weren’t self made, there were many who helped you, who you used and stepped on on your way to the bloat. 

2: No more bullshit that this system can be accessed by anyone, it’s not, it never has been, it’s rigged in favour of white males. The few not from that particular ilk who have busted through the ranks are mostly the ones doing the quiet helpful work now.

3: Really not your fault that you have been sheltered by a corrupt political system, you’re just using what’s there. Kinda like bloated ticks on a poor hound.

The banks too- It is so tempting at this point to want to scratch my eyes out if I see one more ‘we are here to help you in these uncertain times’ commercial. NO YOU ARE NOT. Smoke and mirrors, you will not sacrifice profit, bonuses or payouts to your investors to help me with my business or home, I’d have to already be rich for you to approve me.

My real dislike is for some very specific Politicians willing to continually gut the system, especially now, during this very uncertain time. 

Your constituents need help- Yes Jason Kenney, this one is personal. Even before the pandemic hit you were systematically wanting to emulate your hero trump. 

Your priority should have been helping our Indigenous Peoples access clean water, better education/social programs and cultural education- nope, let’s focus on an out of date industry.

Your priority should have been education, helping make it affordable for all, instilling diversified programs to build up multiple industries in our province- nope. Let’s cut funding for all schools- starting with primary, classes of 30-50 are fine, we will standardize, no one needs critical thinking skills anyway (that might lead to questions). Teachers don’t need more resources, kids don’t need programs to help them navigate social or mental health issues. Special programs aren’t needed to help educate- they may not come out with much but what does it matter no one fails anyway because we don’t have the room. 

Oh and those whiny post secondary- you can always (not) get a loan, except we will change those rules, so you better have top grades or you are not worthy. You also better be in an urban centre because you are not worthy of access other wise. Better cut funding to the schools to, for your (imaginary) war room- you know the real important stuff. No arts are needed, they can do with out. But really, since most of us have been home what have we relied on for unity/sanity- THE ARTS.

You hand big O&G companies vast sums of money, without assurances that it would really benefit Albertans, so many up and moved their offices after that. Great plan.

Healthcare- well come on, private is the way to go. Why make a fair access system in the Government, you and your friends can’t make money off of that (yes Shandro I am looking at you).

There are so many other things, taking away access to mostly women’s health procedures, slowly chipping away at rights LGBTQ have fought hard and so richly deserve, I could go on.

And I will- even during this crisis you continue with this bullshit- your southern idol picks a fight with China, you follow suit, you challenge our own national government for money- but mostly for O&G, you wait to see what they are going to give the masses during the pandemic before you decide what you ‘have to do’ for them. Still picking fights with our much needed doctors, so many still planing to leave when the worst of this pandemic subsides, because of you and Shandro.

You throw our own chief medical officer under the bus more than once, and then like a school yard bully, when things show signs of getting better because we follow her advice, decide you now have to give the ‘good’ news so you can look like a good guy. 

You need the economy to get started (as do we all) you announce opening dates and no effing plan, so then you have to walk back on some of it. You say you want a fair equity deal from Ottawa- not for the people just for O&G. You outrightly insult any other industry that may have had a thought to come here to build (your insult to green energy was infantile). I am not against O&G but it must update and diversify if it is to not sink in the tar pits like the dinosaur it is. 

I see much about how all this money used to help us now has to come from somewhere (it did, those are the taxes we pay), and we are not dumb, you will want to claw every bit back- but ask yourself, if you weren’t wasting so much chasing your dream and stroking your privileged buddies, wouldn’t there have been more of OUR money to use for us?

You refuse to help renters (commercial and home) with protections because they can’t pay- Leads me to wonder how many buildings you own. You own pathetic privilege is showing. You congratulate the citizens of Alberta for coming together and helping each other- what else were we going to do? I didn’t see you offering to take a cut in pay (or anyone in your cabinet for that matter) to let that money help out a local business or cover rent for someone? You could survive this pandemic not working for 3 months, It’s getting pretty razor’s edge for me and many I know. I don’t know what’s coming next. I know I can’t really look to you. I don’t trust you. 

We have to fight. You and your cohorts must be help accountable for the things you are trying to slide past us now. You were hired by the masses, (I was not one), but you still work for us and your review is not great. I know there are people who think you are doing a bang up job, but you have spent much time subtly feeding their fear of loosing oil, that sense of us against them. I am glad you are not quite as vile and inept as your orange faced hero, but you really ought to rethink following his lead. 

Meanwhile, WE need to look out for each other, socially, physically and mentally. 

Support local, respect those who have been working this whole time, those now trying to find their way back, be gentle with those fearful.

Wash your hands, wear your masks, be responsible for and to one another. It’s really all we have.

End rant.

Tales From The Front Line- Virus Interruptus aka WTF?!

This is an uncertain time. It threatens to overwhelm anyone and everyone, but what about those with mental health issues? Anxiety, Depression and PTSD are difficult to manage on any given day, but watching the world be swept up by the very real fears of this pandemic. Fears about health, finance and scarcity. We are also reacting to those around us who feel like they are just hanging on. So what does this mean?

I am so grateful for the self work I have been doing in the last few months, it really made me look at what I can do to mitigate the monsters from taking over. 

I have been setting up new boundaries, I have removed close contact to those who are not supportive and set off my anxiety. Long breaks from social media- reorganizing what is in my feed. Being mindful about limiting caffeine (this is a regular fail…. but I try), decreasing refined sugar and taking my vitamins and drinking water. Working at regular exercise (injury has made this hard but not impossible). Getting regular massage has been so important to decrease the pain, increase relaxation and connection with my body. Meditation and finding comfort within other aspects of my spiritual practice. Creative outlets like reading, writing and painting. More time with nature. Asking for what I need and being mindful of my actions. Trying to be of service to those around me. 

Is it always a fail safe? No. But it’s what I have to work with. Refining this tool belt has been important, but I did not realize how much until now.

So in times like these how does that work? I am in contact with more people through out the day, offering support, and ear, a calm port. I have been on social media and news outlets much more than I have in the last couple of months. Caffeine has increased as I sip coffee mindlessly while voraciously reading what ever information I can find to give me an idea of what the future holds for my career (massage therapist) and family. My injuries have been in a flare up and exercise has gone by the way side. We have all been home together, eating comfort food. I have been taking vitamins, trying to get sleep, meditate, write (this has been somewhat frustrating), stick with my spiritual practices, be of help, but…… 

It is thin ice I am navigating. I would have to say that I have always been able to keep my preverbal shit together when there is a crisis, or big life shifts. My survival mode can carry me a long way. This could very well be where I am at. Months from now, there is a very real possibility that I will have a bad run of the monsters taking over for a good long while about seemingly meaningless stuff. What will really be happening, is all the emotion I may not be expressing/processing right now will find its way to the surface. But there is difference this time.

I am actually aware it is thin ice out here. That is a win, to be able to identify that I am in a place where I may get tripped up. So I am working very hard to stay within the boundaries I have set up for myself.  

I still limit my social media interaction, I am only looking at real information, passing on what is needed. Still limiting my contact to where I feel safe. Taking breaks to put my phone and computer away. I know I am being sought out for comfort, and I will continue to be a service. Which has me accessing social media more than I should. I recognize, if I am tired or expose myself too much to the fear and panic prevailing out there I am no good to anyone.  I must first create quiet within myself, so I step away. 

Today I also recognized some of my comfort behaviours (food, lack of exercise, too much wine, not enough sleep) will lead me to not be able to hold off the monsters very well and slip into old patterns. 

With my daughter being home it has been pretty easy to up my activity- but I think her and I will commit to at least 30 minutes of activity in a day, (not including outside- that is nature not gym class).

I will continue to observe my spiritual path and honour what I learn there, and try to apply it to my life.

Replace the social media distraction with creating of some kind , or quiet reading and reflection. 

Working on connecting with my self and my family. We have all changed and grown so much over the last few years, I think we need a better reconnect. The outside world is much less a distraction as there is no where to go. We must enrich our inner worlds. 

Love my body, and honour it, in all ways.

Practice kindness to my self and non judgment of others.

This is the ideal.

But realistically I am going hour by hour like everyone else in the world right now. Am I going to handle this incredibly intense period of time with grace? I know I am human, I will be ok, some of the time, and the rest of the time I am like everybody else. But I will come back to what I have been learning. Every time. I will come back.

We will come back. Have faith. Be kind. We will come back.

Tales From the Front Line – The Scenes In-Between

Trigger warning: Sexual assault, rape, – not detailed.

Life is layered. More than one thing happens at a time.

So far, I have chosen to write about the things that shaped me in singular observations, (my birth, my Nana, my father). There will be more of these singular stories to come, those people/ times that I feel warrant their own lengthy viewing. But life is not just made up of the big ongoing events, there are single moments and encounters that have had a profound effect on me. These scenes did not necessarily involve main players in my life, not all were bad tragedies either. But to understand how the mental patterns in my head have been reenforced, it is important to understand the little things that have happened to solder the wiring of my brain.

I was about six. My Nana had a neat little house with blue trim and white picket fence. It seemed out of place next to the main road way that ran in front of it. There was always traffic, sirens at any time of day.  On this particular beautiful day I was playing on the front step. The usual bustle of traffic going by, when a car veered off the road, crossed my Nana’s lawn, onto her neighbour’s and crashed into the front of the house. The car had been going at quite the speed, it hit the next door house with such force the driver flew through his windshield and through the front window of the house. I watched all of this with a front row view from my Nana’s stoop. I still feel startled when I remember this. I think it made me a little less trusting that things are always going to be good. That we could trust feeling safe. 

In the giant back yard of this same little house, I would open hours lying on the grass, looking at the sky. Playing in the dirt and holding court with the plants. The coolness under the crab apple tree in the heat of summer, was a welcome refuge for a tea party. My Nana and I would take lawn chairs out in the middle of the yard and have tea and she would tell me about the different birds we’d spot, using my Papa’s ancient binoculars. These are some of the times I really felt connected. I did not have the language then, that I do now, I am blessed to be able to recall this feeling in my very marrow when I am out in nature, walking in the woods, playing in my garden. That are some of the most peaceful, spiritual moments I have. I am glad I had that in my childhood early on. It left a positive imprint on me, one that I seek out as healthy self care.

In that same little house I loved the kitchen, the bath tub and wooden toilet seat in her bathroom (seriously, as a kid I would be in there for hours reading, it was the most comfortable seat in the house.). I hated the basement. It was old, three quarters finished, cold. Filled me with the worst dread. I have nightmares of hiding near the washer and dryer in that basement. It was in that basement I was molested by a male relative. He would drag me down there to play hide and seek. I think he was about five or six years older than me. He’d find me, and lay himself on top of me and rub himself on me, asking if I wanted to play hotdog. My Mom and Nana upstairs and I couldn’t tell them or he said he’d beat me up, plus it was just a game, he’d try to convince me. It happened three or four times. This reenforced me giving in for peace, and not having any power. 

There was a boy who lived across the street from where I grew up. He was five years older than me. All the girls on my street had mad crushes on him. My parents let him babysit me when my sisters weren’t around for the task. He would wait till my folks were gone and pull me into the room under the stairs where we kept all of the board games. He would kiss me, with his tongue. It always felt so gross, he kept trying to jam the slimy thing in my mouth. He was so well loved in the neighbourhood I couldn’t tell. I knew it didn’t feel good, but everyone loved him so something must be wrong with me. I feel uneasy thinking about this, another early betrayal of trust. Another early experience of betraying myself and my instinct because it would ruffle others. I struggle with this still.

I was eight years old when Raiders of the Lost Ark came out. There was a little gang of us that hung out, I was one of the youngest. It was summer and the kids got permission to be able to see a movie with out parents. It was so exciting. My Mom was reluctant but I told her it was just a little adventure movie, it would be fine. Yeah, that melting scene at the end… I had nightmares for weeks after. But it was worth it. That sense of freedom I had when I was out with my friends. That was the moment I knew I really do love my independence to experience different things with different people. And considering how anxious I can be, I love scary movies, I like controllable fear.

I could devote a few paragraphs to the multiple times I have been sexually violated in my life. I have thought long and hard, and rather than dissect each one, looking at them en mass  has shown me is that a victim needs to feel heard. They need to be believed. That you can’t make assumptions of how these things will happen. I was assaulted as a young teen at a party with my sisters friends. I never told her, but her brother in law saved me. I was raped at a high school party. I was molested by a female classmate in elementary school. I understand how these things reenforced my lack of self worth. My being invisible unless there was a use for me. I can see how this had started to create that constant need for validation, that I was good, I was wanted, loved.

The absolute rush I got in grade six, the first time I wrote and directed a play. It was well received and elaborate. The first time I saw my words in print, in grade one, a story in the inter school magazine. The first time I won an award for one of my plays in high school. The first time I treated a client as a professional, not a massage therapy student. The first time I taught a class. The first birth I was asked to attend as a helper. Sitting one fall day and listening to a homeless gentleman’s story. He thanked me, for reminding him he was human. All of these things made me feel so incredibly useful. So needed for the right reasons. Any time I can connect, through touch, through words, teaching, I still get that same feeling. A warm rush, like I am glowing, plugged  into the universal energy. That I have purpose.

I can see how these things all fit in to help create light and dark. I am sensitive to those that feel unseen. I love to share ideas and conversation, to be truly connected. When this is out of balance I become needy, paranoid that I am repulsive, worthless. I truly want to help who I can, when I can, but I have to be mindful it is not to feed my own monsters. I can not seek adulation, gratitude, indebtedness, acceptance, love as the payment for being of service. When I start to feel the “what about me and my needs” whine start, I am learning to step back and see if there is an underlying cause or if I am just depleted.

It will always be an inner dance, a negotiation. Sometimes I will get it right. Sometimes I won’t. That’s human. it is something we will all do. But not all of us will try to learn from it, try to grow from it. You can’t have the expectation that life will become exactly what you want. But you can align a little better if you’re willing to work at it.

Thanks for reading.