Papa Coco's Recovery Journal

[Papa Coco]

You are all such awesome friends. It feels good to have people who care about me, and people who let me care about them.

Master of my Seats, Armee, Phil, Dolly, Milkandhoney, thank you for the responses and for being a part of my recovery from gaslighting. I've been reading your journals, but I'm in a bad space right now and can't really respond coherently. I tried to respond to all your journals, but all I could type out was gibberish. Better to wait until I'm of sound mind and body. Maybe in a day or two I'll be able to speak coherently.

I've been up since midnight. It's 4 am now on Sunday. Lots going on here. Mostly not good. I tried writing in detail about it, but there's too much to say, my story got too long, so I deleted it and now I'm just going to give an overview: My oldest son's mental illnesses are worsening. Friday was his birthday, and we aren't welcome to talk to him anymore, so we didn't send a text, a card or a phone call. He hates us because we don't vote trump. My wife, Coco, is distraught over him and that alone breaks my heart. My youngest son, his wife, and both grandsons all have COVID, meaning we don't know if Thursday's US Thanksgiving is going to happen or not. We already bought the food, so we have to cook it. But will anyone be here to eat with us? It took me two attempts to get home from the beach. I was an hour into my drive to the city on Friday night when Coco texted and told me to turn back because of police shootout which had shut down the freeway at the chokepoint for all of Friday until Saturday morning. Then, to add fuel to the flame, a phone call late last night informed us that my former best friend's drinking has finally ended him. He's in a hospital an hour from my city house, 100% jaundice, kidneys and liver are fully shut down, he's so puffy he's unrecognizable, and doctors weren't sure if he'd live through the night, but they are sure he'll never be conscious again. He's quite a bit younger than I am, and I had to distance myself from him 8 years ago due to his refusal to stop drinking and my inability to trust that if I kept hanging out with him, I'd end up drinking again too. 

Today will be a lot of uncertainty. Do I drive an hour to the hospital to put the image of my yellow, puffy, jaundiced, best friend's deathbed into my trauma-prone brain? HIs wife died the same way 10 years ago.His older daughter can't stand it anymore. She isn't going to be there. I need to find out if his younger daughter is going to be there, or if she's too exhausted to be there also. I also need to find out if he even lived through the night. I'm too prone to trauma to want to see him in his deathbed, but his daughter is important to Coco and me. We were there with her when her mom passed, and if she's going to be at the hospital with him, then it might be a good thing if I sit with her for a while. Coco and I were a part of the happiest years they ever had. Maybe I could be a connection to those happy years if I come sit with her for a while.

I wish I didn't have to always feel like I'm working beyond my means. I'm not trained in how to deal with alcoholics who refuse treatment, sons who hate me because of who I won't vote for, COVID, etc. THis is all above my paygrade. It's beyond my skillset.

I used to work next to a person who had a sign on her cubical that just said "Oh God--Not another learning opportunity". That's how I feel now. Overwhelmed. Overburdened.

I've been up since midnight. I need a little more sleep. It's 4 am now. I'm going to give it another try.

[milkandhoney11]

Papa Coco,
I am so incredibly sorry to hear about all you have been going through, my heart really goes out to you and I wished I could do anything to help.
It must hurt not to be able to contact your son and to see how much this affects your wife. I know what it feels like to lose contact to family members because of differing political views, but I can't imagine how painful this must be when it is your own son.
I am also incredibly sorry about the situation with your friend. I think that it is important that you protect yourself from more trauma and try to respect your feelings, but I also understand that you want to be there for his daughter. It shows what a wonderfully caring and kind person you are.
I wished I knew how to make this decision easier for you but it depends completely on how you feel and how much you can bear at the moment. I imagine that it would be very difficult to go to the hospital and see your friend like this (especially after all the trauma you have already experienced in your life) but I also wouldn't want you to regret not going for the rest of your life.
So, my humble advice would be: take your time to decide, check in with what your heart tells you, talk to your wife, and then see how you feel about the whole situation. It can help to write your thoughts down so that you can get clear about your emotions and maybe even remind yourself of your original reasons when things get tough in the future and doubts start to creep in.
I hope you will be able to find a way to deal with this somehow. It's a very sad situation to be in but you are strong and you can make it through.
I'm thinking of you and sending you lots of courage and strength.
Take care and be gentle to yourself in these difficult times.

[Master of my sea]

Papa Coco I am sorry to hear how things are for you right now. It sounds as if you have had a real truckload of events just empty in your lap. Sending you so much support and care right now and I will be keeping you in my thoughts.

You can only do what you are capable of dealing with. If you think that going to the hospital is going to be too upsetting, then maybe not being there is the safer option for you right now. I can understand your wanting to be there to offer support, but you must also make sure you are taking care of Papa Coco. I don't mean to sound like I am telling you what to do (if I do), that certainly isn't my intention. It is so easy for people like us to put aside our own needs and feelings, especially in situations like the one you find yourself in, to make sure everyone else is ok. We can be there for others without neglecting ourselves. Maybe if you can't get to the hospital, you can arrange to meet up with your friends' daughter/s, away from the hospital? This way you can still offer your support and be that connection to happier times, without compromising your own mental health and well-being.

I think you said it perfectly, I'm not trained in how to deal with alcoholics who refuse treatment, sons who hate me because of who I won't vote for, COVID, etc. None of us are yet we are expected to deal with all these types of things and just know what to do and be ok with everything. Sometimes we have to take a step back and realise that there are some things we are just not equipped to deal with at that moment, or at all. And that's ok.

You are such a ray of light to so many on here and in your life. You have been such a huge support to so many of us and I just want to ask you to please take care of yourself as you navigate through all of this. I am glad you were able to make a post and I hope that getting some of it out, will help to be able to get some sleep. We will all be here when you are feeling more yourself 

Sending you a gentle hug and my support and care to you and your family. I hope things start to settle down for you soon.

[Armee]

Oh gosh. 

That's too much. Too too much. I recall one night that I had one of my hallucinations...flashbacks...and then I woke up the next morning and there had been a mass shooting in my town. Small by our sick standards but 5 people died. And those two things together were just too too much. One is too much. Add anything on top and it's over.

I watched my mom die of cancer related liver failure a little over a year ago. It is tough. You'll know what to do after you sleep. It wouldn't be safe to drive right now either way. The liver failure shuts down the brain. I doubt your friend will know your presence or absence in that state. Your friend's daughter will need you but not necessarily at the hospital. She'll need you after and she'll need you grounded. Take your time.

Crawl back in bed, Papa Coco. Sleep. We'll keep watch out here, ok? You are safe.

[paul72]

 
That's all way above most of our paygrades Papa Coco
My heart goes out to you and your wife.
Sending support and best wishes as you navigate all of this.

[sanmagic7]

hey, PC, as a fellow recovering alc. i feel for you in that dept.  unfortunately your friend made his choice.  will it do either of you any good to go see him?  that's my perspective.  maybe you could do your own little memorial ritual for him by yourself.  these are never easy times.  i'm very glad for you that you made the choice you did 8 yrs. ago.  my heart is with you.

and, i, too, know the pain of a child who will not have anything to do w/ me due to whatever reasons she's got in her mind.  it's a painful hole that's always there. yep, it is above our paygrade as parents to have to deal w/ something like this, but all we can do is manage it a day at a time.  my heart's w/ you on this one, too.

i'm glad you're writing this down, getting it out of you.  keep on truckin', ok?  right beside you.  love and a hug full of care and comfort

[Papa Coco]

Once again, San, MOMS, Milkandhoney, Phil, Armee, and everyone else, Thank you for responding. You C-PTSD survivors are the best people I've ever known. We might struggle, but we are so quick to stand by others. That counts for a lot.

And life problems do tend to come in clumps, don't they? I guess that's the nature of randomness. In a perfect world, someone would be metering our problems so that we always have only one at a time.

I slept fantastic from 4 am to 8 am. I had some chores and shopping to do, but I'm done now, It's noon here. I'm able to sit down and read the posts. You all said some really good things, all helpful.

You've all supported me NOT going through traffic to visit a friend who won't know I'm there. Thank you for that. While reading your supportive comments about how I need to take care of myself, I suddenly remembered why the whole right side of my pickup is caved in. In April 2009, we had a dinner date with J and S. She was dying and we knew it would be our final anniversary dinner together. We were at a different hospital with my entire FOO. Mom's doctor collected us together and gave us the news that Mom was dying and likely only had a few weeks left. Coco and I got in the pickup to head to J and S so we could take them out for our last dinner and BAM!  That truck is still all caved in. A constant reminder to not drive or use saws or mowers when I'm under this much durress.

I'm so happy to have friends like you telling me that it's okay that I'm not equipped for this. I grew up just expected to be the guy who was always there to help everyone. I've been pushed so many times into helping beyond my abilities, but now I have friends giving me support by NOT putting myself into that dangerous situation.

San, you are so right. We all tried to get J to stop drinking but he avidly refused. I went to rehab because I couldn't do it on my own. He flat refused to go to rehab. He made his choice. There really was nothing I could do about it. This was his own personal death wish and nothing anyone could say would change his behaviors.

Armee, you and MOMS are both right; I have to be in that part of town for a medical appointment on Tuesday. I can go up to J's daughter's house and visit her then. And I resonate with the stress of shootings in your town. It may be people you don't know, but something about that violence on fellow innocent humans nearby is gut-wrenching for empathetic, bullied people like us. It also undermines our own sense of safety when people are being randomly gunned down nearby. Trauma, trauma, trauma. The purpose of trauma is to numb pain and learn how to be safe. A shooting in the neighborhood is something we want to be safe from.

Phil, thank you for the supportive words that this is above everyone's pay grade. Thank you! That helps ease my chronic sense of duty.

Master of my Sea, telling me that I'm a ray of sunshine for being who I am is such a warm feeling. My FOO and old friends typically insulted me for being kind. They said I was soft. My siblings would roll their eyes and insult me for caring about other people. I once shed some tears at my favorite uncle's funeral, only to have my evil, narcissistic older sister scoff at me for it like I was being stupid. To have real, life, respectable people tell me that it's okay to be who I am is just...amazing. Oh, what would life have been like if I'd have met people like you all when I was young?  I can only dare to imagine a life without being taught by gaslighters to be ashamed of who we are.

MIlkandhoney, you are right and I need to accept that I am strong enough to get through this. As a man who was raised by a cold, tough man, I always feel like my sadness means I'm weak. So I suppose I push myself to help more so I appear to be strong. But cold sarcasm is not strength. Emotion is not weakness. My family and elders lied to me about that for about 50 years. Turns out being emotional meant I was the one in the right. Again: What would life have been like if I'd have known that from early on?

I like to remind myself from time to time that those of us who have survived our traumas long enough to join this forum and actively pursue answers and treatment are the strongest people on earth. We've survived where others have not. J had a very rough childhood. He chose to drink, and I chose therapy and vulnerability. Which of us was the strongest, right? My pursuit of healing has brought me to where I am, while his drinking brought him to where he is now.

To all of you who share my pain around losing family members and children to anger and exile, my heart swells with yours. Losing anyone; a parent, sibling or child, due to them not liking us anymore is just...it's so painful. Being able to console each other from a place of walking a mile in each other's shoes is a gift that goes a long, long way.

Thanks to y'all. I am feeling better. I'm not feeling obligated to go see J or to "do a better job bringing my son back into the family." These people have made their own choices. They're all adults. The door here has never been closed on them. If they want to reconnect with me and Coco, they can. We're still here. Door still open. The ball is in their court.

I want to give a great big, meaningful, grateful group hug!



Gosh DANG! You are all such good people. This forum has done its job for me. I now have friends who understand me and I them. You let me share in your lives and you are there to share in mine.  That chronic loneliness that I talk about is starting to loosen its grip on me.  Thank you everyone for joining and sharing.

Now I'm feeling "good" squishy inside.

[sanmagic7]

lovelovelove 'squishy' inside, PC.  you are wonderful.  love and hugs

[Master of my sea]

Love 'squishy inside' I'm glad you are feeling better Papa Coco

If they want to reconnect with me and Coco, they can. We're still here. Door still open. The ball is in their court.
You saying this reminded me of something I read a few weeks back, it said, 'I may have burned bridges but I left behind the tools to rebuild. The people that want to be in my life will be.'
You have left behind all the tools for these people to come back into your life (even if it wasn't you who originally burned the bridge) there isn't any more that you can do. Your peace and happiness doesn't deserve to suffer at the hands of anyone else, any longer.

Sometimes we need others to remind us that we can't be expected to be able to do everything. It has been drilled into us all our lives to be the go-to person. The person that should fix it, but it isn't our job to fix everyone else's problems and every now and then we just need a gentle reminder...that isn't your job.

People that scoff and put others down for being kind are just showing their true colours. For some it is much easier to be mean to someone than to try and empathise or just be a decent human being. All of us here truly understand the power of being kind to others and how just a little of that can go a really long way to helping someone.

It takes a huge amount of will and drive to start a journey of healing and I don't think enough people realise that. To heal, first you must feel everything and that takes an inordinate amount of strength. Even in our weakest moments, we are all some of the strongest people I have ever encountered. To stand up and face all of the darkness and hurt that has brought us to this place, that is courage and that is strength in my eyes. Instead of being consumed by it, we have decided to face it.

[Papa Coco]

Recovery Journal Entry for U.S. Thanksgiving day, November 24, 2022

My overbearing sense that the Grim Reaper has been thinking about me lifted a couple days ago. Gone. Like a snap of the fingers, he just left me at 7 PM on Monday. I have no explanation. My moods went from as bad as possible to "as if nothing was wrong" in the snap of a finger.

My friend J passed this morning at 8:05 AM. His daughters are worn to a nub. Drinking himself to death has been a long, horrible, HORRIBLE experience for both of them and everyone else who loved J.

I'm fine. A little melancholy, but I had already distanced myself from him about 7 or 8 years ago to protect my own sobriety. I knew that if I'd kept hanging out with him it would have eventually dragged me back into the bottle with him.

I've been feeling oddly wonderful for the first half of Tuesday, Wednesday and today. I feel like my old self, the one who had energy and could clean and cook and keep up the yard and make jokes. At midday I still crash, usually after lunch. I've made an appointment with my General Practitioner to do some blood work to check on my ability to manage blood sugars. My mother's side of the family was riddled with diabetes. So far, I've always tested negative, but the way I crash after eating lunch every day now is suspicious. Time to get checked.

I just received my 4th quarterly issue of Psychedelia Magazine. On page 28 they list a few web locations who are now selling fully legal candies with just enough psilocybin in them to perform as micro-dosing. After Thanksgiving, I'm going to research these sites and hopefully put in my first order. I'm pretty darned excited. I believe that the reason I'm starting to feel better for half days now is likely from the Ketamine Infusions. I've had 8 or 9 so far and I'm going to schedule another one for next week. If it's true that the Ketamine is rewiring my brain to accept joy and happiness again, then why stop now? And if I can start some gentle micro dosing with legal candies, then all the better.

My young son and his family are all testing negative this morning for COVID so we have our dinner in the ovens now and the family will be arriving within the next couple of hours. Our oldest son has vanished off Facebook and is, for all intents and purposes, in the wind. He's off the grid. Gone. We are preparing ourselves to realize that we may never see nor hear from him again. Ever. His mental illness just kept worsening and worsening. I tried very hard to stay in his life for as long as I could, but he just kept getting meaner and meaner, and now he has cut us all off completely. He'll be forever in my prayers. He may be burning the bridges from his end, but if he ever decides to rebuild them, his mom and I will be standing at the end of the bridge with our arms stretched out. We'll have hammers and saws in our hands to help build the bridges if he ever tries to rebuild. I have little hope. These types of mental illnesses seldom reverse and seldom end well. But the door will always be open.

On Tuesday night Coco and I were watching a Netflix Comedy series where some comedians were working off the cuff with the audience, telling jokes and making people laugh. I suddenly, out of nowhere, smelled the old wood floor of the stage I was on when I was 7 years old, rehearsing for the school Christmas play. I was the lead marching toy soldier. I could even hear the clomping of the hard soled shoes of all us kids marching on the stage at rehearsal. I made some mistakes and guided the soldiers in a couple of bad directions. It didn't cause an EF. I think that I'm just getting used to finally having these flashbacks enough that this particular one may have just been my brain saying, "I see you're ready for the next level of detail" and it released some body memories for me to process. I was okay with it. Later, in bed, I thought about it, and remembered being guided by my shoulders by an adult male who was keeping me back after practice to rehearse some more, but I sort of remembered him saying, "we're going to do something a little different tonight."  That's the moment my heart and chest suddenly feel a burst of anxiety, and that's where I've left it. I'm not in the mood right now to follow this memory into what it was we did instead of practice. Logically I already know. No need to put myself through the trauma of it during Holidays, dealing with my son's disappearance and J's passing. I believe that as we accept these small bites of memory flashbacks, we eventually get better and better at handling them like the adults we are. I feel oddly as if I am more able to control how far back in time I go when an EF hits. It's as if, with practice, I'm getting to where the flashbacks aren't as frightening. Like I really feel like I AM the adult now, and I'm not the boy in the flashback.

This doesn't mean I'm healed, by any means. I still have triggers and emotions. This morning as I helped Coco make this big, complicated meal, she was getting frustrated with me, blaming me for losing spoons and containers that she couldn't find. She wasn't being mean, but she is on the Autism Spectrum, and her words often come out without softening. I immediately cringe. I knew that I had no reason to be frightened, but I did give myself a break, made an excuse for why I needed to go upstairs, and I HID from her until she found whatever she'd lost and was no longer accusing me of losing them. It was innocent enough. She's not mean. She's one of the kindest people I know. This is about communication style differences. But it proved to me, that while I'm getting better, I've still got a LOT of work yet to do with how I handle on-the-fly stressors. The trauma responses are still connected to how my FOO really DID blame me for everything and really DID make me feel ashamed of myself when they lost something.

I'm calling today a good day despite all the tragedies that surround me. I'm feeling like none of them are my fault, and I'm able to focus on what good is happening around me, rather than all these tragedies.

Fingers crossed this isn't temporary. I truly hope I'm finally on the journey to finding my way out of the storm.

[milkandhoney11]

Papa Coco,
I am really sorry for the loss of your friend and for the sad separation from your older son. I can only imagine how hard this must be, especially around Thanksgiving Time.
However, I was so glad to hear that you have been feeling better. That's wonderful news!
I feel like our flashbacks and triggers will probably never fully leave us as the trauma has become ingrained deep in our consciousness, but I am so happy that they are becoming a little more manageable for you and that you have found a way of handling them better when they arise.
To me, the fact that you are able to stay so come even despite all the negative events that happened to you this week, shows that you really are healing and making very big steps on your way to recovery. I truly hope that it will continue to stay this week and that you can indeed find your way out of the storm.

[Armee]

Papa Coco.

I'm sorry for the loss of your friend... 8 years past and just this week. 

I'm sitting with you with a warm blanket for your shoulders and a cup of tea while you process the new details your brain has offered. Its rough when they reveal themselves, but each little piece of information brings with it horror and then a tiny bit more healing. Just sending lots of love and reminders you are not alone, you are not broken, you are not bad, you did not deserve this, and it is truly unfathomable that people hurt little sweet you in this way. I'm so angry about this. And sad. What a sad thing.

[dollyvee]

Hi PC,

I'm sorry to hear about your friend. It's hard to watch people do things that you know aren't good for themselves and not be able to help.

I think it's great the foray you're doing into psychedelics, especially for someone who said they are thoroughly opposed to doing anything bad. I don't think I would be doing any of the work I have been doing around my gf if I hadn't started microdosing. I even had a dream where I was on mushrooms in the dream and realized that I was going into these dark, unknown parts of my brain that I hadn't been in before. It's by no means an easy fix, take this and it will all go away, but I do think it helps. Perhaps, like you said, more memories are coming up now and you're able to handle them in small amounts. Though, I'm sure your physician warned you but people with a history of schizophrenia in the family do need to have caution unless of course that's from your wife's side.

I'm sorry your son is behaving that way as well. It's hard to let people go when we only want the best for them 

Sending you support,
dolly

[Master of my sea]

Hey Papa Coco,

I'm sorry for the loss of your friend. I agree with dolly, it's hard to watch someone to self-destruct. And I'm sorry that things have taken this turn with your son, I can't imagine how that must feel. Sending support and hugs to you my friend

it's lovely to hear that despite all of this going on, you are feeling better and more yourself. I hope this continues for you

I'm sorry that this was triggered for you but I have to say, the way you deal these things is inspiring to me. You give me hope that one day, they won't control my life and I won't always get lost in them. You are so open about your experiences and how you deal with them. This is a horrible event that your brain wanted you to remember but you were able to take control of the situation and stop it from taking over. You have an understanding of what it is you are able to deal with at this current moment and have been able to make this more manageable. That's impressive.

I hope you had a lovely day

[Papa Coco]

Journal Entry, December 1, 2022

I'm having more and more happy times during parts of the day, but they are balanced out by an increase in shame and stress during other parts of the day. Time to schedule another Ketamine Infusion. I find that this particular treatment significantly reduces that shame center in my brain for several weeks--even a few months. My last infusion was in Mid-September, so I've held on pretty well this time.  I guess I'm fortunate that my body responds quickly to things like medications, vitamins and treatments.

Rapid physical response is good and bad, because my body also responds quickly to bad things, like sodium, sugar, alcohol, or digesting food that is nearing the edge of fresh. Rapid response is something I can manage as long as I remember to keep watch on what I consume or feel.

Today I read Armee's Journal entry about having to endure a medical exam in a vulnerable part of her body. As a man, I have to bear those parts to my doctors also. Doctors sometimes have to touch parts of me that trigger flashbacks and cause irrational depression and anxiety that can last for days before and after.

TRIGGER WARNING: Words in white color: A story of how Mom was a bit too close to my body when I was a boy:

I was 8. A week before 3rd grade school started, she told me to go into the bathroom and stand still. I asked why. She said my school finally decided to start a PE program, and they required me to have a physical before school starts. Part of the physical was for her to bring a urine sample with us to the doctor's office. (It was 1968. That's how they did things back then). She slid my pants down to my knees, kneeled in front of me, grabbed my penis with one hand, held a plastic up to it with the other, stared at my genitalia and told me to pee. I said, "I can do this myself" to which she angrily accused, "You'll just spill it!" Naturally, there was some shyness there, and nothing came out. She got angrier and angrier, saying "Come on. Just do it!" as I tried to pee and couldn't. I pleaded, "I'm trying. I can't!" My face was getting hot. Finally, she got so frustrated with me that she just yelled "Fine! You do it then, BUT YOU'D BETTER NOT SPILL ANY OF IT!" She huffed away. A few minutes later I brought her a nice, clean, sample, without having spilled a single drop.

My youngest grandson is 8 right now. I can see, with my own eyes, that an 8-year-old boy is perfectly competent to pee in a cup without help. He cooks his own egg breakfasts when he's with me. When we're at the beach together, he takes charge of movie night popcorn. We have one of those novelty theater popcorn makers there. He carries it himself to the kitchen and plugs it in. He rummages the cupboards and collects all the bowls and measuring spoons, gathers the ingredients, measures the oil and kernels, and melts the butter> He then makes the popcorn, divides it into bowls, salts and butters it, and delivers a fresh hot bowl to each of us. He never spills a drop of ANYTHING while doing all this. He was 7 when I went to mop the kitchen floor, but he asked if he could do it. He used the new mop and cleaned every inch of that floor more thoroughly than I would have had I done it myself. When I'm in the yard picking up leaves, he voluntarily finds a shovel and helps me scoop the piles into the compost bin...shovel full after shovel full, he doesn't spill them either. Gramma and I went on the Christmas train ride with him on Saturday, and he took opportunity after opportunity to explain how steam locomotives work, and which train company owns what kinds of engines, and how often they fly past his house every day. The very thought that his mom would have to hold his penis for him because he's too incompetent to pee in a cup, just highlights how inappropriate my mom really was with me as a child, and how stupid she really believed I was.

So if you think I can make it through any lower torso medical exam today without having to explain to the doctor that I don't normally have high blood pressure, and that my racing heart today is not my normal BP, then...well...I don't know what to think. (I can feel my BP soaring right now as I tell this story).

A helpful trick I learned to help mend the broken mind-body connection of trauma

I keep little physical reminders in my pocket to connect me to happier times.

My therapist once held out a handful of polished stones and told me to pick one that felt good in my hand. As I took one and held it tightly in a closed palm, he said that a part of him was in that stone, and any time I needed to remember that he was a part of my life, I could just hold that stone tightly and feel his calming presence. There's no magic or new age mumbo jumbo in this. It's simple kinesthetic, mind-body connection. He is a DBT therapist, so his ultimate goal is not to train me on how I'm supposed to think, but to reconnect my fragmented parts. Trauma is a mind-body disconnection. Anything we can do to reconnect body with emotion during stress works to re-bridge a tiny piece of that trauma disconnection. The stone my T gave me is just a physical reminder for me to focus on during otherwise uncomfortable events, so that my mind and body both remember I am connected to someone who cares about me, rather than to the triggering effects of other physical sensations.

Over the years I've discovered that holding that stone during traumatic, triggering events slows, or sometimes even stops, my usual dissociations and blackouts. I stay in the room much, much better, and feel much calmer if I do this.

That stone was more than just a random physical object, it was an object that was given to me by someone who cares about me and who makes me feel heard and safe. Any time I see or touch that stone, I feel the calmness that my therapist gives me when I'm in the room with him.

All these years later, when I clutch that silly little rock, I remember how he cares about me, and I feel my connection to him. It balances things out a little. During some medical procedures, any small connection to safety helps ground me to the positive mind-body sensations it represents.

I later used that tactic when I quit drinking. My 30-day coin ended up living in my pocket for a few years, and whenever I felt the urge to give up the struggle, I could hold that coin in my hand as a physical reminder of the people in AA who gave it to me as a gift, free of charge, and who were on my side and who I knew cared about my sobriety.

Whenever I hold an object of love and connection, I seem to be able to feel the warm, loving, caring energy, climbing up my arm, filling my veins, and calming me like warm water.

There is science behind this practice. When I taught highly trained engineers, I often placed a small collection of dumb little toys on the tables around the room for the engineers to squeeze or bend or just fiddle with while we taught new ideas and concepts or company policies to their brains. These were called kinesthetic learning devices, because studies had proven that if a person is doing something with their hands while learning abstract concepts in the brain, the learning was greatly improved. More parts of the brain were lit up and involved during the learning. It's what I'm told Micro-dosing does also. It lights up more parts of the brain, so that all parts of the brain learn something together. Walking while meditating also works for me because...again, the body is engaged while my brain is thinking. To me, holding my little rock is both: a kinesthetic lighting up of more parts of my brain, and a loving reminder that while I'm on my doctor's cold slab, my warm-hearted support system is still present in the world. I'm not alone. It helps.

It's a small help, but it is a help nonetheless.  I don't feel as alone on the doctor's table if I have something in my hand, or pocket, or around my neck on a chain, when I need a connection to the people who love and want to protect me.

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Afterthought: I re-read what I've written here, and now I suddenly have a thought: I think I'll bring that little rock with me to my Ketamine Infusion on Saturday morning and hold it tightly during the procedure. I wonder if my infusion will feel more of a connection, and maybe see if the relief lasts longer than 2 months this time. It'll be my own personal scientific experiment.