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Arpy1 wrote:

"...at the risk of sounding totally neurotic,  i just wondered if this is 'normal' or what. i don't like feeling this way, but then i don't like feeling all traumatised either. i feel a bit insecure..."

Even "normal" people (non-cptsd sorts) can be totally neurotic, they just are better at covering it over, not aware--they'd never call it numbing, but it's exactly what it is. We have their missing awareness, though, and it's good to know, but scary to realize the "why". Meanwhile, the pain spins round and round .

Good to be aware, not so great to know something others are successful at just ignoring within their "normal" mask. And it's very INSECURE. But that's true no matter what state we're in. Being incredibly wealthy is considered a security goal. Those who've been there can be neurotic beyond reason. Yet they're considered secure, and normal? 

There's this rush to perfection, once we see the new, freer vista. And it's cool that we are learning to see the clouds scatter and reveal the bright sky. But as we look up, we realize it's a mountain looming before us, and we've already been climbing so hard.

I've been on that mountainside and have frequently despaired; and often "numbed out" but have seen the other side, too. It's a huge step in our un-learning process, when we shed the burdens placed on us from other people. There's time for numbness, and there'll be time for reawakening. Patience seems insecure, but it's a core part of the process.

As Oakridge pointed out, it's natural (I like "natural" better than "normal") to become fatigued, overwhelmed, confused, and incredibly numb. Patience, though. You lose sight of your strength to absorb all of this--but we see it in your willingness to stop and reassess. That takes more oomph than lots of "normal" sorts could muster.

It's a lot to figure and you've already un-learned so much. Some of it is very distressing, but you're still at it. That probably sounds cliche, but it's anything but. As you may recall, I too had this holy stuff drilled into me. But I remember one phrase from that den of horrors I actually ended up liking--"there is a time to every season..."        

Our lived lives might become a protracted mourning for, or an endless tantrum about, the lives we were unable to live. But the exemptions we suffer, whether forced or chosen, make us who we are.     
                   ---Adam Phillips

Live as if you were living already for the second time

                                  --Viktor Frankl

Tired said:

"...make sure to remember that your life doesn't begin when all the therapy ends. Your life is now. All the fun you're going to have also has to happen now."

Yep. Ain't easy, seems totally elusive, if not hopeless, and will it ever reach what's called recovery? That's a biggie--this waiting for the green light to proceed with this life. Well, that life isn't going to wait, it wants us to know that.

"Fun" may seem odd to include in this discussion. This cptsd stuff hurts, I hate it. True enough, but there's still lots of fun to be had; it's allowed. Why miss it just 'cause one isn't "there" yet?

For me there's music, books, nature, the cat--they're not just for coping, they're for living. Now. Someday will still be there, but missing now will likely mean regret then.

I've often been hung up on the someday project...the "over the rainbow" syndrome when all would be well again. Maybe it will, but right now should count for something too.

Thanks for the reminder, Tired.

Anger's great, sadness is fine, contradiction happens, bad dreams too. It may appear only as an image on a screen, but my heart sends you this: 

There's one theory of dreams (granted there are zillions) that posits that some of them can be acting as a release valve. Almost medical, in the sense of they don't feel good but might be part of a larger process. So even "weird dreams" as you call them can be a functional part of recovery.

If they bring anger, that's wanting to be there, not as a mask but a mirror reflecting a genuine need. It only sounds contradictory; it seems unpleasant, almost insane, to think this can be good.

When one gets their eyes examined, the optometrist tries several lenses 'til there's a match. That's what this dream business can seem like; taking off the judgement lens allows the other view to come into focus. Some straining might occur, but when you relax the view is clearer, WHEN it makes it into what is seen. You might need several takes before that clear one appears.

I had some pretty bad dreams once, then one night a counter one snuck in, involving my own cult-like demons. They were madly pursuing me down a river, when I ran a rapids, as I had vast skill at canoeing they couldn't match. They ended up smashed, and I found a friend (another version of myself) waiting by a campfire.

Silly dream or did it say something? Dunno; only grateful that it popped in there. My only point in all of this ramble is to remind you it's okay, sure; but most important, you're more than okay, like ten times over okay. In my math, that equals courage and perseverance. So take 'em, they're yours, you know. 

Same old—when it feels good enough to feel bad.

Interesting how close the reachout can seem, but how distant too. I'm speaking of an old trait of mine which was in full force recently.

It was my big annual "social" occasion—a dinner-theatre I started managing several years back. It's a one-night stand and involves dozens of people ranging from actors to wait people to chefs to you name it. My expertise lies in the acting side but touches all bases.

I love it—and hate it. The love is reacquainting myself with my artistic/creative side via the actors/musicians I recruit (all from afar, alas—the local area is pretty scant talent-wise). The hate is based in the fear of people; the judgements, critiques, all those familiar cptsd traits.

People loved the evening, as usual. But as everyone departed, it was same old too. Lots of surface friends, some old/some prospective, but I know it'll be too much for me to expect anything more. As in a friendship that goes beyond those "hi, great time" surfaces. So after a lovely morning-after breakfast with the performers, I wearily packed up and headed back to lonely.

Why don't I follow up? Distance is a factor, for sure. But the backoff seems more related to my same/old feelings of unworthiness. I'm good at drawing them, but fail to leap past the required niceties of the short term. I sabotage myself with a rigourous inner critic that devalues the esteem others say they have for me. I leave it at that and have 1,001 reasons to not consider reaching out. Want to/don't.

Same old. 'Spose it's like returning to prison after work-release.

Hey, AnnBelievesInWhales,

I was feeling the same moodiness today, melancholy is one apt description. I'm coming down from a treadmill of positive/negative, hopeful/hopeless, feelings following a whirlwind of creative energy. It involves my usual achilles heel--people. And there again, the whirlwind circles back to where I was--want closeness, back off; feel like I can, give up in the end. It's such a grind, and it's so constant, so predictable.

So I wandered a bit aimlessly, looked at some stuff I stored on youtube, and found a fellow I highly regard for his fresh out of the mainstream views. I know I've posted some of his material here elsewhere, but for me at least he resonates, gets me past lots of self-imposed blockages. No answers, just some other way to process the feelings. Here's the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byRYKW0pDuc&feature=em-subs_digest 

One final thought (really?) 

Using the Self/self model referred to, I see the Self as healed--always was, is perfectly at peace with life. The self/selves, on the other hand, is what needs healing and is largely what the journey with cptsd involves.

Thanks. Do I like philosophy?  

So I've just a short  addendum to my long-winded tangent.

I suppose some might object that a life isn't an "act". No, it doesn't feel that way...or does it? I love Shakespeare's line "all the world's a stage" for starters. But there's daily language references like "get your act together", "role model", and similar sayings. And we all grab a costume; we're all skeletal or a "bag of bones", as Alan Watts used to be fond of saying.

One of my cptsd symptoms has been a sense of numbness; some of my "act" has made me wish I'd had a stand-in or stuntman to make it through the rough parts. Using the script metaphor, I wish I could tear it up or do a good edit. Maybe that's where dreams come in?

There. Done. Short.   

Hi, ninabee 

Your tone resonates deeply with my experience. I went through a lot of stages thinking that if I just do this, learn that, take this workshop, follow this program, I'd get a grip on this semi-permanent state of confusion, not to mention pain and grief. And I felt that way long before I could label the experience as what's now called cptsd.

This may sound discouraging, but I don't mean for it to be taken that way. If there were a magic fix, there probably wouldn't be several hundred people who visit this site. And many of those are in various stages of therapy and other approaches.

It's all part of the healing, and it kind of does emphasize how awful what many experienced truly was, to have left such deep scars for so long. It's obviously important, no matter how we seek to deny or move through it as if it didn't exist.

One way I look at it is that I've given up on a cure, but I sense there's lots of healing to be had, with perseverance but also patience. That's problematic in such an answer-driven, quick fix society, but it seems key for one to make it past the first important step.

It's a step you've taken, and yes, it does seem to grab a hold of one's whole being, but better that than not seek to accept what healing can be found. I used to feel needy, always anticipating that magic cure-all. I guess they're all steps, so although it's hard to accept, they do lead us into healing one way or another.

So you're not alone, that's for sure. Being aware, as you seem to be, is huge, and in that sense it's okay to be who you are. And that includes all the healing you can find. It may seem overwhelming, but in the process that's a sign that there is indeed healing happening.

We all wonder if this anxiety is "normal". Sometimes that's kind of a false notion, as if there's a right and wrong way. I think there's a best way--and it's the self-awareness way you've demonstrated by posting here.



 

I have a very philosophical bent, so this sort of topic is one I'm almost always contemplating. I often refer to the personality as "I" or "me"; I find any consistent self to be very elusive, so I use quotation marks around it. As DU pointed out, "I" am not the same person as "I" was then, and so on.

I recently posted on another thread some of my thoughts on this, so if someone read that, it explains why what I'm going to cover here may sound familiar.

What I'm speculating is based on exhaustive reading about what this strange entity called the self might indeed be.  One suggestion I like is that we each consist of a Self (capital S) and a self (small s). The Self is the steady observer that seems to be always present, that makes it seem like we are a unified being. The self is more like the personality, which can fluctuate; whereas the Self sticks around--Emerson called it the Oversoul.

The small-s self can consist of many sub-personalities, something a fellow named Pierro Ferruci described in a wonderful book called "What We May Be". So each person is kind of their own universe, characterized by a variety of traits at different times in their life.

Based on that, my personal philosophy runs something like this (and might change in 15 minutes!):

While I don't know how it came to be, I consider "myself"  to be an individualized expression of a universal essence (call it god if you must; personally I can't stand the word). "I" use a personality to craft what is called a life. Within this life the personal entity called "me" senses a very elusive peace in this trek called life. That search for passionate equanimity keeps me going.

While the purpose of the journey is elusive, each of us has an inner 'memory' or knowledge suggestive of a Source (the Self). Often this is hidden, too, as if a cloud arose to obscure the details.

The cloud, in turn, is part of the theatrical stage we call Earth. So in effect, we're acting as if in a play wherein we each script, edit, direct, and perform our 'selves' in the play. The production is limited on the one hand by the set design (science) but via its memory is aware of an infinity (Self).

Some choose to codify this experience via what's called religion, with rigid rules that often stagnate over time (religions should come with "use-by"/expiration dates!). Others prefer a more materialist sense of reality. Sometimes the religious or spiritual component is taken to be the 'greater' of this duality, but to do so would negate the mixing of the spiritual/material. So some set themselves apart (holier than thou); others would bah/humbug their way through the play.

That many do so, in either form, is still always a creative act deriving from personalities which remain somewhat fluid... learning appears and reappears, casting change as the only eternal constant within an infinite field of possibilities.

Truly the play has no beginning and no end, but lots of potential--the hallmark of the best spontaneous acting (the personality) one could hope for.

The only goal of life is to create more life, which indeed points beyond words to more mystery. Mind seeks answers, and frustrates itself; the whole thing is best navigated from a goal-less state of mind, but the mind resists, and the tug-of-war goes on.

Where does this fit in with cptsd? No answers, but for me it takes some guilt out of the picture. I don't know, don't care to know, why this life was so rotten, and in many aspects still is. Consciously I would have never chosen the path of grief, pain, anxiety, and depression considered "my" life. We are all in the drama, but no one has seen the script. 

If you've read this far, I hope you take what I say in a spirit of playing with options; not as the woodsgnome's take on truth, if there is such a thing. If it's heavy on acting/theatrical references, that might be because I'm directing a dinner-theatre tomorrow night. And in my inner play, that's a huge leap, being around other people. I'll be exhausted, and my sub-personalities will probably be zonked  .

Thanks, I Like Vanilla, for posting this; and you're right, it's very hard to broach this subject...we're just different drummers in more ways than one, it seems. 





 

AnnBelievesInWhales wrote:

"It feels good to feel like a person now."

You nailed it! Becoming that person is what it's all about. Despite frustration about the "full-time job" this recovery business becomes. And seeing the promise of living as that new person, finally feeling safe enough to emerge from hiding.

One of the hardest things to accept is that to feel good, or at least better, the recovery trail might lead through heaps of frustration, exhaustion, and hopelessness. But, as you also noted:

"Bodies are miraculously resilient, and so is my mind and body. I can heal". May you continue, and enjoy being allowed to find yourself for the first time. It's as you said, in this important reminder:

"...when I'm invariably down in the dumps again I'll remember that hope returns." 

 

Indigo wrote:

"I guess they had their round of it though which is why they did it to us."

Abusers may indeed have had many reasons that can explain 'why' they were abusive, but I don't feel an obligation to understand their still senseless actions. I've tried, and 1)it drives me nuts and 2)it's like giving them power over my mind...still.

As to thoughts of anger and revenge, totally okay and far more understandable than their abuse ever was. Thoughts come and go, actions leave scars.

BigSeeGreen123 wrote:

"...it will just take time for new goals to develop...any suggestions for proceeding - how do you figure out what you want?"

Coming out of an awful childhood, I found what most appealed, and went thataway. While I had certain goals en route, looking back it was more important for me to establish values as guideposts to frame my path. Then I built specific goals around those values. Didn't always work out as planned; but at least I somehow survived when plans fizzled.

My chief value and/or need was simply peace. Whether that came in the form of guiding wilderness canoe trips, gaining expertise in historic role-play/theatre, interacting with kids in a pre-school setting, or writing, the activity didn't seem to matter so much as being true to my need for peace. Plus, similar to what Tired said, I felt I wanted to help people somehow. Other than having enough (barely), money didn't make my list of values

Maybe it was sort of an engaged peace, or passionate equanimity, a yearning to be at peace but engaged where I could be with others (much as I feared people in general; still do). Other values like honesty and integrity factored in, but peace remained the steady value behind it all.

Perhaps that sounds a bit presumptuous. Obviously, I still have deep cptsd symptoms in the mix, but I've also apologized too much for this over the years. Even when the peace verged on escapism, it was also a desperate need.

Tired put it this way:

"I guess it's a matter of removing obstacles and the rest happens and I only notice it afterwards."

That was basically my experience. It can be uneasy to go that route. The fear is--things went so bad before, might they do so again? Actually, my experience has been that many did seem wrong turns. Just within the last day there was such an event, made me want to quit...again. It wasn't pretty, not what I wanted, but tonight it's better, and I've found the peace again...it's always been there when I needed it.

So that's what I found; I searched out the values that seemed to matter the most for me, and went that route. It's turned out to be where I needed to be. In cptsd terms, I gave up looking for the cure but continue following the peace as I build on the healing.

BigGreenSee123 also noted:

"I feel there is a great blankness"--I used to have dreams about blankness, felt I needed to fill them; now realize that maybe that was supposed to be...not so I could fill up the space, but have room to roam around in.     

I find much news triggering, yet I stay with some of it. Pure curiosity, I guess.

Depending on when/where I hear or read news (no TV), it either sets me laughing at the absurdity or close to rage and sometimes tears just to know some of this stuff happens.

When I hear certain topics, e.g. politics and religion, my inner  "hypocrite detector" is easily set off. I grew up within a religious outfit where hypocrisy teamed with physical/sexual/emotional cruelty to make for an awful childhood.

It's easy for me to spot the PR disguises (fake piety, holy writ, etc.) they have for shielding their power trips. The political borrows a lot of the top-down/screaming aspects used by religion, so those two can trigger big-time.

I'm noted for my history instincts, even managed a couple of historical sites that feature role-playing actors. But I absolutely detest wars--historical or present, and refuse to be fascinated with them, and am saddened so many get into that stuff, even "re-enact" battles and such (although I consider the civilian side of those times equally distressing).

While I didn't have a personal brush with overt war, I think the personal wars all around me (foo and school/religious types) were enough to colour my reaction to conflicts of any sort. And is why I sought a remote, peaceful place to live, to the point that a lot of the news I hear happens in another world, foreign to me. Good riddance.