Love Makes Sense

I haven't posted here lately, although I still write everyday. 

I'm feeling more private, and not as open about sharing. 

My navigation system is somewhat faulty at times...

I slept fitfully last night with nightmares of being held down and trapped. 

Those dreams are nothing new, but they often come when I am feeling unsafe in the world. 

The senseless massacre in Orlando weighs heavy on my heart. 

I was reading the listed names of the victims in a news article this morning while in the waiting room of a car dealership having my car serviced, and when I made it to the last name, I suddenly burst into tears. 

The horror hit me right away when the news broke, but it takes time for the reality to sink in. 

Real people, with lives, and families, and possibilities, all gunned down...

Why? 

When tragedies such as this take place, it is a helpless feeling, and of course, it is natural to want the world to make sense. 

Hating what makes someone different from you doesn't make sense. 

Violence doesn't make sense, and I don't care to ever understand. 

Love, compassion, and unity make sense, and so tonight when I teach my restorative yoga class, I hope that through community, we can all spread peaceful energy. 

The only way to begin to heal the world is by beginning with ourselves. 

Teach love and compassion in your home, let your family and friends know how much you love them, educate yourself so that ignorance doesn't stand in the way of understanding and compassion, and when in doubt, be kind anyway. 

"Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu" 

"May all beings everywhere be happy and free."

We Are Here

Photography by~ Aleksandr Manamis

We are here

at 3:00 a.m.

without words to soothe
 Our wounds oozing 
Sticky, Messy, Gaping Holes

The darkness is not cool against our skin

The shadows do not loom

We are here
Eclipsed

to sit inside our knowing

Without escape

Sweet Dreams

Everything about me feels gloriously weighted to this world at the moment, and so I want to hold on... My eyelids are heavy, my heart thrumming deep and slow within my chest. I can even imagine my blood flowing through my veins, slow as a cool, lazy river. I need to sleep, but I easily and quickly slip into frightening dreams, and so I fight to stay awake. I hear your voice softly say, "Don't put so much meaning into your dreams. They are not real." The lines between reality and my dreaming world often seem blurred, and the nightmares that haunt me in my sleep linger along the parameters of my mind, waiting for an unguarded opportunity to remind me to be afraid. Each night as I prepare for bed, I say to myself, "You are safe, you are loved, you are protected." The only dreams that are real are waking dreams...the beautiful imaginings of a life only you can create. 

Sweet dreams...

Morning Musings

It is 4:00 a.m., and here I am. The nightmares get me everytime, and although I could wake my husband up for some comfort, I don't, mostly because I feel unclean. I used to take a bath after one of those dreams having to do with the rape, but I have to force myself not to because what would happen is that I would cry, have flashbacks, and then dissociate. I've even been found in the bathtub by my husband with my clothes on, so instead I got up, made myself some tea, and decided to get on the computer. I suppose that it is good that I've learned to use another way to cope. I have therapy today, so maybe we can figure out what triggers these dreams. I hate them so much! It always affects me the day after, and it doesn't help that I'm tired from not getting sleep. I'm also worried about a new student that we are getting today. He has some severe behavioral issues, and will need a lot of support. He will have a para coming with him, and although the para knows the student, he has never worked directly with him before. It will upset the balance of the classroom for awhile, which is fine, but I'm worried about the student that I work with who also has very challenging behaviors and is quite aggressive. I think it will be a little crazy for awhile. I love my job, but there are days! Yesterday I was thrown up on by one of my 5 yr. olds. I went to wipe his runny nose and all of a sudden he puked right into my hands. Lovely! :) Okay, sorry that was probably too much information, but it's all in good fun :-D
It has helped so much to write this morning, so thanks for reading. I love my little blog!

Ghosts Of The Past

‎"Monsters are real, ghosts are real too. They live inside of us, and sometimes, they win." ~Stephen King


I don't want the monsters and ghosts to win, but sometimes in the middle of the night, and even in the daylight, they do. I know that the only one who can make them go away is me. I'm the one that lets them take hold. I'm the one that gives them the power. They are the ghosts of the past and the monsters that hurt me, haunting my dreams. I think that if it wasn't for the nightmares, maybe I could begin to let it go, but the terror awakens me and hangs like a shadow over my day. There is no other way to describe it but as an overwhelming sadness that I carry with me. There is no amount of anti-depressant that can make it go away, and maybe that is just it. It will always be a part of me. When does the pain recede? I blame myself because it is me who is hanging on to it. Why can I not seem to be able to control my dreams?

Untitled

This half smile feels like more effort than it is worth today. I remember Monday, the sleep filled nightmares, but Tuesday is a blur, and my husband just informed me that today is Wednesday. A day lost...a walking dream. I recollect the pain, as it rolls over into this day, and I feel like I can barely speak without tears. I understand selective mutism. How many years of silence, the words swollen and aching, festering like an infected wound. Please don't touch me, I long to scream, not now, while my flesh still crawls. Don't comfort me, don't help me. It hurts too much.

2:00 A. M.

It is 2:00 A.M., and I just woke up from a nightmare that was triggering, and now I can't sleep. I feel like I need to talk to someone, and I feel so alone even though my husband is only footsteps away. I don't want to be a bother or a burden to anyone. Why do I find it so hard to reach out when I'm hurting and afraid. It brings me right back to the sexual abuse. It happened, and I felt too afraid to tell. There is always this fear, and it has settled deep inside of me. I know why I had the dream. I watched something on television that brought back a memory. There was the blood. I see it. I remembered it like I was right back in that bedroom after those boys left. I didn't understand. I was so ashamed and scared that I had done something wrong. All I wanted was to be clean. To wash everything away. I'm having a hard time staying grounded right now. I need someone to help me. I want to call my therapist but it is so late. I thought that writing would help, and maybe I won't be able to post this. I'm probably not even making sense, but none of this will ever make sense in my head. Why me, I ask? Why do I have to feel this? It hurts so much, and what if I can never get through this? Does every bit of pain, and every tear shed mean that I'm healing? All that I can do is hope.

Fighting For Now

I just had a pretty good sized bowl of chili for dinner. It was all that I could manage to allow myself for today, but that is okay. I sat down with my family, and Dave is home, so it was all good, and I enjoyed it.
I don't really have much to say. I felt like writing here though, and maybe I'm hoping to sort through some thoughts that are swirling about. I had a rough night last night, and wasn't even able to write about it earlier. I had horrible nightmares all night, and finally went ahead and got up around 4:30 a.m. They were dreams about the rape, and feeling like I couldn't fight back. I could feel their hands everywhere, but could not move a muscle. It was horrifying. When I got up, I immediately got into the bathtub, which is a dangerous thing for me to do because I tend to dissociate when I do that, but I just had to get the feel of them off of me. Dave wasn't home yet, and I was feeling shaky, so I called my step dad and my mom, and tried to connect with everyone that I love. I feel like I really took care of myself today, doing everything healthy that I could do to distract myself from the pain. I took the boys to see Where The Wild Things Are, and that was also a sweet distraction. I am proud of myself for staying in the here and now, for not dissociating, and not numbing out with alcohol. I did use the eating disorder, I suppose, but that is par for the course lately, and I did manage to eat dinner, so all in all, it was a good day. I may not have been able to fight back in my dreams, but I'm fighting now.

Near The Edge Of Dawn

I startle easily, jumping like a newborn from the slightest touch or any sudden sound. My jumpiness can be embarrassing, and I often feel as if I'm not connected to myself, drifting part way between some other world. I have nightmares that aren't really nightmares. They are memories that play out in my sleep, near the edge of dawn, and I wake up raw. Every sound is louder, and every touch hurts more. I cannot even stand affection today. It makes me want to cringe and cry out, and if I could find some way to disappear I would. I still smile and go about my day, because that is what I know I have to do. I'm grateful that I have people to smile at, and who also smile back, even when I feel so mean inside.

A Morning Meditation

I think that I have talked here a few times about how each morning I wake up with a sense of fear and dread, and it makes it so hard for me to want to get up and face the day. Well, this morning, the same thing happened, but instead of laying in bed with feelings of dread, I decided to take a few deep, cleansing breaths and focus my mind on everything that I am grateful for in my life, and also the things that bring me joy. It only took about five minutes, and then after that I really did feel less afraid of going out into the world. I'm going to try to make a habit of starting out my mornings with an informal meditation of sorts. I think it really helped me to have a better day and see things in a more positive light. I'm not even really sure why I wake up so afraid every day. I love my job and the children that I work with, so it certainly isn't that. I do think that the nightmares and flashbacks I have make me somewhat hyper-vigilant, as if I'm going to be attacked at any moment. It is the anxiety of the unknown.
My therapist told me to try to tell myself before I go to sleep, that when I have a nightmare, I will fight back in the dream, so the past few nights, I have said that to myself. It is much different from what I usually say, which is, "Please God, don't let me have any nightmares." It is part of taking back my power, which I am really working on.
Friday night my flashbacks were really bad, but Dave made sure that I stayed near him, which really helped even though my gut reaction is to isolate myself so that no one else can see what I'm going through. The rest of the weekend was much better, and I was also nightmare free. That is what I want. Freedom from fear.

And Still She Cannot Breathe

This week has been so hard. I started out the week with a nightmare about my rape that then triggered some flashbacks. I hadn't had any flashbacks for awhile, so I was hoping that they were gone for good, but no such luck. It is horrible to be forced to relive such painful memories, especially when I work so hard to put it all behind me. Why is it so difficult to stay in the present? Is it because I haven't worked through all of the emotions that I need to work through? Yesterday, I had flashbacks off and on all day, and after every one, I would cry, and then I would feel so angry. Angry at the tears, and angry at what brought on the tears. Angry that I'm still dealing with this after so many years, and frustrated that I'm not better yet. I become so impatient with myself and my progress. I was even mad at my medication. Why wasn't it working? I was feeling great the week before, and now this...I couldn't understand why the healing was always so up and down.

I did have a good therapy session, and was able to actually talk about some details of the rape without totally losing my mind. That is definitely progress, and I feel like the more that I can talk it through with my therapist, the less power it will hold over me. I want so much to take back my power.

Held down and gagged
she fights to scream
Hoping this is only a dream
and still
she cannot breathe
and still
she cannot breathe

All In Parts and Pieces

The nightmares come when I least expect them and I'm fading in and out of my own head. It seems that I will never get away from it and them. They haunt me in my dreams and all that I want to do right now is scream and yell at the top of my lungs that I hate, I hate, I hate them, but the house is silent, so all that I can do is scream from the bottom of my soul. I'm trying to stay here in the present, but I can feel myself floating away, and my fingers on these keys are what is connecting me to myself. I know that I'm not making any sense, but this is what dissociating feels like. If I were to lay in bed right now in the quiet darkness I feel that I would drift into the nothingness and I may never find my way back, or at least that is the fear... the fear that I may never want to come back.

And I'm alone now
Me and all I stood for
We're wandering now
All in parts and pieces
swim lonely
find your own way out
So far away
it's growing colder
without your love
Why can't you feel me
calling your name
Can't break the silence
It's breaking me
All my fears turn to rage
And I'm alone now
We're wandering now
All in parts and pieces
swim lonely
Find your own way out

A Sweet Distraction

In the dream, they are chasing me

running in slow motion

arms and legs too heavy.

Their hot, angry breath on my neck

and no one can hear me scream.

The first thing that I do when I wake up is to tentatively run my fingers along my rib cage and down to my hips, longing to feel the comfort of my own bones beneath my hands, but they are now covered with flesh. Too much flesh, I think. I could walk on the treadmill at three a.m., and no one would know.

This is where my eating disordered mind has taken me this morning. A sweet distraction. I realize this as I head downstairs to put on my Nike's, and make a detour to my computer to write instead. I suppose that I recognize where this disease wants to take me, and that is half of the battle. The other half is actually having the willpower to win, and I wonder...do I have it in me? I miss my bones, and why? What do they represent? I used to feel such a sense of accomplishment when I could feel the sharp angles through my skin. I'm a failure. Is this all that I think that I'm good at? Starving myself ? When the pain gets too close, I find myself resorting back to the old behaviors, precisely because they work. There is no replacement behavior to put in it's place. I know that I just have to let myself feel, but, ...I'm afraid. The feelings will be too much. I will be...too much.

Worn, And Weary, But Not Giving Up

I have been too tired to do much of anything besides go to work, and my energy is at an all time low. The new medication that I'm taking causes drowsiness, and taking it 3-4 times a day is wiping me out. I'm feeling very frustrated and impatient. I'm following my meal plan the best that I can, and doing everything that I'm supposed to be doing, so it is disheartening to not be filled with health and energy. I stopped taking the Lexapro, and my team has agreed that with everything that is going on with my body, it is probably not the best anti-depressant for me to be on. So far, I'm feeling okay without it. I'm just going to stay on the Abilify, and see how I do without an anti-depressant. There are just too many negative side effects, and it doesn't seem worth it. I want to be on the least amount of medications possible, while still being able to feel like my mood is stable. I have had a few panic attacks in the past week, but flashbacks and nightmares have really tapered off, and that has been wonderful. The flashbacks and nightmares can be so debilitating, so it has been nice to have a break from them. I do think that I'm moving forward in so many ways, and not tripping over myself so much. I'm trying harder to acknowledge the things in my life that are positive. I refuse to give up, even though my body isn't cooperating the way I want it to. I do feel like once I can make it past this minor glitch in my health, everything else will fall into place.

A Pep Talk

I can have a bad dream and find my way back. I can use all of the tools that I have to make it to the top of the mountain. It just takes practice. I must love myself enough to have made it this far. I will just keep trying.

A little pep talk this morning to start my day on a positive note, and not let a bad dream color the rest of this day. It is beautiful and sunny here today, and I'm waiting for my boys to wake up. They all need haircuts. They look like little urchins! I have scarfs to knit, pumpkin bread to bake, and laundry to wash. I must get started!

Wishing all of you an amazing Saturday!

Much love,

Angie

Surfacing

Surfacing

Underlying panic
an overwhelming urge
to scream
tasting metal
on my tongue
awaken
not a dream
shaking silence
tears within
hidden
down below
hush
don't cry
hold it in
nobody must know

Angela Minard 2007

I Dreamed A Dream

I was awake at 3:00 a.m.
chasing away the monsters.
The lyrics to this song from
Les Miserables are in my head~

~But the tigers come at night;
with their voices soft as thunder;
as they tear your hope apart;
as they turn your dream to shame.~
~Les Miserables~

Until The Dying End

Vivid, violent, raging dreams

Their blood

like a cleansing rain

Infinite?

At last...Liberation

Free the pain!

Awakening joy,

a moment fleeting

Lost... again

With shameful eyes

and hands stained

Starving to exist

Angela Minard 2007

Too Much

I want so much to recover from my eating disorder,

but I'm beginning to believe that I will never be able to.

I'm at my target weight, and I hate it.

It feels like too much.

I know that it sounds bad,

and I can only say it here,

but I miss the emptiness.

The feelings all feel like too much.

Everything is just too much.

At times, the fear and anger overwhelm me,

and my nightmares have just been terrifying.

I dream of the rape, and yes, now I can fight back.

I know that is good, but the violence I have inside

of me is shocking. The images are so frightening and

it is hard to get through the day without having flashbacks

of the rape. I wonder if I will ever be free.