Tag: healing

A Guided Tour of My Anxiety Attack

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

Sometimes it’s little. A tightness in the chest. A tremor in the hand. Floating thoughts in tired chaos.

You work

It starts with a flutter deep in the belly. Temper becoming short as you try to hold on to the steady.

You try to be accountable.

Take a day to rest. The quiet makes the deep exhaustion deafening. Dive deep, use your tools.

The flutter grabs hold with claws and the world begins to roil. Coherent thoughts are just out of reach.

Sleep. Try to reset. Hold on to me so I don’t get carried away.

Middle of the night- clammy, claws have worked their way to the chest. Monsters screaming so loud, pulling my knees in, hands over my ears, trying pointlessly to keep out the screaming that’s inside.

Apologies tumbling from my lips, washed away by the downpour of tears. Shaking so hard, my seams threatening to tear.

Sometimes there’s a why. This time there is not a single, but fragments of everything. Real, imagined and all in between. A single why can be rationalized. The shame, I can’t get through the fragments cutting me from inside.

Shame and anger, gains feel lost.

Breathe.

Fucking breathe. Meet the monsters with compassion.

I don’t live here anymore. This once was the home in my head always. But not now.

No anger for the rushing back.

Compassion for the now.

I am human. I have cracks but I am not broken. Lean against the steady.

Breathe, held in place

Arms guiding me back to now. Keep breathing.

There will be fog. Use the tools. Medicine to dull the edge. Know that today you’ll struggle in the thick muck. One foot in front of the other.

Breath in, breath out.

The day will carry on.

You eventually will come to the other side, to begin again

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

A Guided Tour of My Anxiety Attack

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

Sometimes it’s little. A tightness in the chest. A tremor in the hand. Floating thoughts in tired chaos.

You work

It starts with a flutter deep in the belly. Temper becoming short as you try to hold on to the steady.

You try to be accountable.

Take a day to rest. The quiet makes the deep exhaustion deafening. Dive deep, use your tools.

The flutter grabs hold with claws and the world begins to roil. Coherent thoughts are just out of reach.

Sleep. Try to reset. Hold on to me so I don’t get carried away.

Middle of the night- clammy, claws have worked their way to the chest. Monsters screaming so loud, pulling my knees in, hands over my ears, trying pointlessly to keep out the screaming that’s inside.

Apologies tumbling from my lips, washed away by the downpour of tears. Shaking so hard, my seams threatening to tear.

Sometimes there’s a why. This time there is not a single, but fragments of everything. Real, imagined and all in between. A single why can be rationalized. The shame, I can’t get through the fragments cutting me from inside.

Shame and anger, gains feel lost.

Breathe.

Fucking breathe. Meet the monsters with compassion.

I don’t live here anymore. This once was the home in my head always. But not now.

No anger for the rushing back.

Compassion for the now.

I am human. I have cracks but I am not broken. Lean against the steady.

Breathe, held in place

Arms guiding me back to now. Keep breathing.

There will be fog. Use the tools. Medicine to dull the edge. Know that today you’ll struggle in the thick muck. One foot in front of the other.

Breath in, breath out.

The day will carry on.

You eventually will come to the other side, to begin again

You work

You dive deep

You build and use your tools

You try to be accountable

Healing Without Apology

Oh Gods, the hurt, it’s dizzying ….. The song came on, it had been ages, yet once it started, there I was, the door kicked open. Back to where I could feel the magic that once existed, back to where pieces of my heart and soul had been sacrificed on the Timeless Altar of Everything.

Feeling so broken and pieced out, every ounce of courage I had at the time, to push it all away, the music, the verse, the intense joy within the circle that had been created, every bit of strength to slam that door shut. I could not hear the music with out feeling the blood drain away from me. The loss of magic, cruelly stolen. I can not look at the verses that had been written. To try to remember the joy, with out feeling the loss is a futile effort. Time does not heal wounds, it allows for scar tissue to grow thick, to dull the pain that will always be there.

The next song starts. For a brief time I had been seen, (had I?) only to be cast unwhole back into the shadows. To once again fight to repair myself, questioning the point of it. Watching the monsters rising from my blood and fragments of who I thought I was. Hot tears, burning my cheeks as I screamed to the Ether- demanding to understand why? Only echos from my monsters coming back in return, had my spirit had been broken for nothing more than sport?

For a long time, I couldn’t. Not the music, not the words, not the contentment of exploring the Divine magic. Sometimes I think I had met the Devil and fate was sealed when he looked me in the eye and called me Witch. Even now it steals my breath. So many unfinished words, unfinished spells, unfinished………

Another song begins. It feels as though I am late to this vision. The Tower breaking sent me running for cover, placing the old shell of who I was, firmly around me. Retreating, pretending to heal. It has only been the last few risings of Mother Moon and time at the Altar of Everything that I can now begin to see through the fog.

It was never about that. I see now the destruction was inevitable, if not that Devil, then another would have appeared. It was about unbecoming, to rise again. It was about breaking away from the chains that held me down. It is about casting the spells for myself alone. The words that tattoo my soul that need to make it to paper to speak my truth, mine alone.

The last song plays. Oh Gods the pain……the dizziness swirling around my head. Truths mixed with lies, spells and curses alike tied up in what was and what is to become. There will always be the unfinished, there will always be bittersweet sadness. This now will get laid on the Altar of Everything. The rubble of the Tower still smoking after all this time. Finally discarding the shell. This Witch may be scarred, still bloody, but my sight is getting clearer. The human heart will heal, the scars will thicken. I don’t need the Devil to tell me who I am. I don’t need the chorus to tell me who I am not. I am. Is all any of them need to know

Pain

Sometimes you can’t tell just by looking.

Maybe when I move, you’ll see a pause, hear my breath. But just a little.

You can’t see the fire I feel, the ripping burn that just settles in. The raw grind and pop. The loudness of it in my head makes it hard to hear the outside world.

When asked, I pause, ‘fine’ I say- it’s exhausting to talk about any other way.

The forced encouragement I whisper to myself to move, stretch, to do what simply needs to get done, to not cry or complain.

It’s always there.

Just by degrees

A good day( usually after treatment), it’s hardly a thought. Not forefront in my thinking, not in my way.

A bad day, sometimes there’s a reason, sometimes there is not. It creeps in like a spiked steamroller. The loudest voice in the room. Some days only one sings it’s angry song. Some days it’s a duet.

At this moment it’s a four part harmony with a smouldering back drop. No steadiness, no focus available, except to will myself to the task at hand.

I do the things I can and hope it’s enough, I reassure the frustrated tired me that relief will come.

It’s all I can do, because some days you can’t tell by looking.

What to do now

Inundated with the ugly of the world. Images of hate, frustration, disgusting lack of compassion, education and decency. It’s easy to forget that this is not all there is.
Yes, we need to bear witness to these atrocities so we can help change the narrative. We need to be aware so we can be the change.
But the constant drone of the shit becomes defeatist. It can leave you numb, spiteful and slowly turn you into a version of the monsters we are so badly trying to beat back.
So as a reminder of why these things need to change, why inclusion, humility, kindness and love of creation need to prevail I am redirecting my focus today.
Today I am focusing on the good, the inspiring, the beautiful.
There are people out there with things to celebrate
Birthdays
Anniversaries
Hard won accomplishments
There are people out there bringing love and gifts of time, connection and grace.
There are beautiful places in nature, in our neighborhoods, in our homes that bring sanctuary and peace.
Today I turn my attention ( posts and personal notes, calls) to these things. To strengthen my resolve to get back into the ‘battle’ with my heart, compassion and values in tact.
Radical love. Radical compassion. Today this is my armour.
✌🏻💜🥳

The Faithful Witch, or why I don’t need to ‘find God’

Sitting in the soft glow of the Christmas lights on the Tree and those shining from my Altar. Drinking coffee and contemplating faith.

I document some of my mental and physical health struggles. I have a biting sarcastic sense of humour ( carved well from surviving trauma). I am an empath through and through. I am curious. I am kind. I have a temper. I take things personally that I probably shouldn’t. I believe in helping because it’s the right thing to do. I believe the body is only the house of who we are, I do not believe in judging on gender, race, orientation or colour. I have a strong sense of spirituality and faith. I am Pagan.

Working with chronic illness I encourage my clients to include a faith based practice. I tell them, that these practices and communities are so important to healing. It is another pillar needed for survival. I never tell them what it should look like. I tell them it should be what speaks to them, what elevates them to their higher good, where they find comfort and connection.

Do I think it solves everything? No. Do I believe that alone will heal? No. Do I believe it takes struggle away? No.

Being Pagan, for me, means I am not beholden to one God. I do not bow to my Deity, I do not hand over my ills, nor do I blame or credit them with everything that happens in my life. I believe we are all interconnected. We are the stuff made of stars, we are nature. I believe this interconnection ( magic) binds us to be responsible in our actions and their effects on the world around us. I believe that science and magic work hand in hand. I believe there are things unseen and unknown. I believe my ancestors hold wisdom that can guide me if I listen.

Do I believe this makes me better than you if our Gods do not share the same name? No. I believe all roads eventually lead back to the same and you put the face on it you are most comfortable with.

I do find offence if you’re God demands that you make others conform to your understanding. I am offended if your God leads you to believe you are morally superior because of what you believe. I am offended if your God punishes people for perceived ‘sins’ or character flaws.

I am not offended if you hold me in your prayers, if it is to protect and share love, for that I am deeply moved and honoured.

I am offended if you are praying for my redemption because I’m not like you.

I am offended if you are judging me on my writing, humour or very human flaws and struggles, because you believe these things mean I have yet to find god….. I am offended if your belief makes you think it is ok to tell me that this is what I need.

My faith has so far seen me through some very dark moments. My faith has helped me have compassion and purpose. My faith keeps me curious and in wonder. I have found Myself with in it.

As we move through this season, be joyful, be kind and be open. There are many of us celebrating many things, there are many of us struggling with many things, but I think we can all agree that we should celebrate together, work together and create something better than what we have. Together.

❤️🔮

Inside war

This morning, I allowed my self to feel some of the anger that’s been bubbling. I looked deep into where inside this is sitting. I am so angry and disgusted with myself. As most of you know, simultaneously my knee and my shoulder have been failing me.
Three years ago I was building a strong body, I had found some relative freedom from my mental monsters. Through life circumstances and a couple of freak falls the physical and mental took a few hits.
The pain is constant, and some times workable. But has chipped away at my physicality.
Yesterday walking was nauseatingly painful. This morning, while I was achey I thought it might be workable. So I tried to stretch, a bit of yoga and a few other things to get moving. The knee and shoulder screamed all the while.
I crumpled to child’s pose and wept. I am so angry that I can not do what I could before. I am so frustrated I have all but lost the gains I had worked so hard for. I am so disappointed I gave into some old patterns. I am broken hearted that I feel so little compassion for myself.

I want to keep trying. I have to keep trying. There are a few things that I have kept with. There are a few things that keep me going. I can do my day to day. But these things were not done for self compassion, these were done for functioning, so I can work, so I can do the day to day. But not done of love of self. This makes me saddest of all.

I see this in others, I offer compassion and uncompromising care for them. Trying to let them know/feel that they deserve better. I have gallons of outward empathy. Yet inward is empty.

What is it that makes us feel unworthy? Being unseen for the beautiful creatures we are? Being told we are too much or not enough? Being discounted? Being shunned when we offer love and compassion to others- setting the seeds that even our best is met with disdain so me must be grotesque.

I am allowing the pain in today. In my body, in my heart, I will not dull with medication so I can ignore it. I will accept it as a part of me, for now. I will try ever so hard to find the compassion for myself that it’s ok to feel what I’m feeling. I will accept my disappointment. I will sit with this. I will try to love self despite these perceived failings, I will try to love these broken pieces too.

This world is hard. We all carry so much. Be kind. Be loving. To all. But most of all to SELF.
❤️