Mind Body and Trauma

[Mental Fairy]

Hello my friends

Thumb is great. I have absolutely no feeling in my palm. It has its pluses and its minuses but hey I got my hand! Please more high fives, handshakes, thumbs up and thumbs down to come! Makes for an interesting bike ride, each time I remind myself to hold. There is no feeling in my index finger. Who knew tampons could be inserted with a middle finger! hahaha

Anywho!

Donya: my dear and beautiful friend is on the mend. Gosh I love having a friend. As soon as she was out of recovery I was there. We laughed, we giggled and we made fun of the entire situation. She’s still not up and about much but I’ve given her loads of reading material.
She’s binge watching The Big C on some streaming thing because she said the main character is me! I have to agree.

Tonight I am off to sanctuary hill for an evening of breath work and yoga. Then again Sunday for a women’s group thing. Once upon a time I would never ever do this stuff. Shit no! Now, bend me in all sorts of positions, if I fart I don’t care! Well I do but I don’t allow such uncouth behaviour!
I owe this to Donya.

Tonight we have to take an element from earth. I’m taking a crystal Donya gave me the day we first meet. I was her patient on the table, weighing in at next to nothing, so close to suicide I didn’t want to even drive the hour to get to her. Now we live 12 hours apart as she moved to town to be closer. Honestly I’m so bloody glad to have you all and her. We are lucky to have this forum.

I tried the hug with Joe, it kind of worked but also kind of made me feel guilty.
Matt’s on night shift so we have had the house to ourselves. Naturally most parents would make like rabbits and bonk uglies all night long. Let’s just say, I didn’t cum, I didn’t see a think and there was zero concurring for me!

Back soon

[Mental Fairy]

Hi Team

In the office for the morning doing some paperwork while there is no patients. Only place I can get peace. Both boys on night shift now and they need sleep. On the bright side I don’t have to be subjected to married at first sight this coming week, Joe loves this programme for some reason. I seem to fall into the same trap, only because I can sit beside him and have him rub my palm to ease the scars.

Last night I went to this mindfulness yoga Nedra thing. I struggled with this one. I could not settle. I tried. There was 12 people, we sat in a beautifully decorated hall we always use for yoga and lessons of breath work. Night was creeping in slowly, the birds outside were settling, crickets singing away. Someone mowing lawns in the far distance. The circle we formed was comfortable, people were lovely but you could see some people were in a deep struggle with themselves. There was one person in particular that got my attention. She looked a little younger than me, in clothing that swallowed her frame. You could see the pain in her face, her posture. When she spoke she tried hard to gain control of her emotions.

We took it in turns to introduce ourselves by name, accompanied by a small sentence to follow to sum up our feelings at the time. I said my name and mentioned I was full of gratefulness for being able to attend.
Once it got to the particular woman I noted was struggling, she said her name, followed by a brief description of her current suffering and healing journey. I recognised her pain, I could see it all over her face, her posture, I felt it in her breath. We conducted a cocoa ceremony, which was rather unusual. Then we were talked through a yoga Nedra session. The teacher was from Spain, her accent was very hard to understand. I am sure ours is also. My brain was unable to concentrate on the body parts, unable to even link into her words. I found myself counting the screws in the ceiling. The women to my right was going through grief also, I could feel it just pulsing off her laying there. The women to my left i have known for over a year due to being a patient of mine in oncology. She still fighting the disease. Stage 3.
Then completely out of the blue come this man, he stood at the back of the class, never joined the circle. He accepted a cup of cocoa however but without words. He was a beautiful American Indian man. He looked the part also. I couldn’t take my eyes off him when he came into view. After the class he just turned and walked down the road. He was dressed in some form of traditional clothing, not tall but also not short. Maybe 60+. His complexion was amazing. I have no idea who this man was but wow.

Towards the end of the night we again did a sharing circle thing. I simply said this; thirteen months ago I was laying on this floor during a breath work session. A door opened for me mentally that was sealed shut with such determination that I thought I was safe from feeling the emotions behind it. That night started a long painful journey of going inwards. I had to accept I will not grow old with my twin, I will soon pass the age of my own mother when she died. I will never have the opportunity to say goodbye to my grandfather, grandmother and father. I will not stand in the dock and hear the word GUILY spoken to my own brother. Acceptance feels harder to wrangle than grief. Anger is still my biggest weakness.

Afterwards a member of the group, a young man from Greece approached me. He asked me a couple of questions and then asked for a hug. I gave him a hug. It felt different. He was battling with himself, he’s on his own journey. I felt like i was further down the path of healing than most of the people there. I felt so bad for others there. Grateful however for how far I have come. The frustration for me was not being able to slow the mind, not being able to connect to the teacher. And yet to walk back to car the feeling like I was still so deeply broken in ways I don’t know how to express. I stopped myself from crying multiple times, saying to myself that i was weak, pathetic and tired.

So today I will do a short day at the office and head to Donya’s for a catch up.

Hugs to all

[troebia]

There was 12 people, we sat in a beautifully decorated hall we always use for yoga and lessons of breath work.

Advanced stuff. I wouldn't be able to relax together with so many people. Like you were saying, you "feel" the others and their emotions.

[Mental Fairy]

The retreat Joe and I are doing in May is run by a women who got me into breath work. Then into the far more advanced teachings. I’ve found since I have been working with her no one else can come close to her level of teaching. I am worried about Joe doing this. He is going to experience four days of practice in high altitude and extreme cold. I do wonder how this will affect us as a couple. He has a lot of stuff to process about his family, his dad cutting his toe off, mum leaving him and adopting him out. I see what this has done to him and how it’s made him an incredible dad. But I also know there is so much anger. I will be an interesting trip.

What I have learnt is it all comes down to the person teaching or instructing. I pick up on so much I have to learn to shut part of me down in situations like this. I carry it with me afterwards.

[Mental Fairy]

Hi Team

I have woken today with a very disconnected feeling. Both boys are on nightshirt, which is good as I get the evenings to myself. Something I treasure and guard with selfish declines to all invites to peoples places for dinner. For some reason people think being home alone is an automatic welcome into their home for food and company. I couldn’t think of anything worse. I do love the opportunity to have solitude and freedom.

Yesterday was interesting. I took the opportunity while the boys slept to get on my racing bike and head for the hills for some training. I am still getting used to the lightness and speed of this bike. I made a mental map in my head of where to go. I headed towards the sea first and made my way along the oceanfront roads, looping upwards towards the mountain with intention to head quite literally for the hills. Before every run, ride or walk I always use visualisation to help me mentally map out where I intend on going and prepare myself for difficult terrain. I give myself a kind of pep talk, link in with myself to negotiate if I am able to complete what I am setting myself up for. This ride I knew was going to be hard, especially one particular section. I got about 23km into the ride, up ahead was the hill I had been dreading. I had never been on this particular hill with this bike. I had with my other mountain bike, even that was a slog to get up on that bike. Once upon a time I rode that hill with no dread at all. However, losing my faith in myself and my abilities things seem to be so much harder to achieve. Half way up this hill my brain clicked into breath work mode, then I started to feel far to exhausted, lactic acid build up, tension in the muscles and mind I came to a stop at a very bad spot. Unclipping from the peddles I stood there in the side of this steep hill wishing a truck would come and take me out. It is a narrow county road with no foot paths to be seen. Everything in me screamed NO MORE, I wanted to be home, I wanted to be picked up and taken away, hit by a truck or better yet, just disappear. Clipping back into the peddle on a steep incline is so hard. I mentally had to fight back. Scream back at myself. Tell myself i have done this before, I can do it again, same hill, different bike. I biked got the top and made it over the next two inclines before coasting down a large steel hill at speeds of 63km an hour. Knowing I had a further 12km of incline I had to dig deep. Not as steep and not as bendy I made my way towards the mountain, connecting onto the roads that would lead me home. I knew the last 1km was an incredibly steed incline again to my driveway, but there was a way around it. I could choose to turn right and add a further 5km onto my ride with one small incline or take the bitch of a hill that I knew I would end up losing my shit on. I turned right. I had nothing left in me to tackle that one last hill, so I added more distance onto my ride and got home a less physically brutal way.

Why am I telling you all this?

I woke this morning and clicked that my ride yesterday really did represent my mindset. I started off cruising along admiring the view, knowing the hardest part of the day was coming. I mentally prepared myself for a battle of an uphill fight, I mentally fought with my muscles, my ligaments, my tendons and myself. Every bit of my soul screamed in pain and self doubt. The screaming at myself in my head won me over and i got through that hard part, not without tears and pain. I got towards the end of my journey and had to make a decision, do it all over again and be home in 10~15min, running the risk of pushing the bike uphill in shame, or take a different way and endure longer more manageable discomfort and not have to push the bike and feel great shame in doing so!

I got home and immediately felt great about it all. Today however I am feeling the after effects of an incredible workout.
It would have been easy to just pick up the phone and call the boys and get one of them to pick me up, but if I had I would have felt so low, defeated and embarrassed. Today I feel great I did it but flat because for some reason my brain keeps saying I didn’t do good enough. I have a run booked for today, I didn’t wake early enough to run in the dark so I will wait for tonight. Yesterday I did try running in daylight, alas I ended up being chased by a zombie chicken down some side street. People were out and about, cars going past. I just am unable to connect enough to run in daylight.
The stupid thing is I am back running at elite levels with great stats, yet still I feel so broken, not good enough and not fast enough.

It’s madness.

My optometrist wants to get me onto a different type of glasses, a pair that helps with short and long distance. She had to measure the position of my head when I walk naturally. I said I always walk with head down, make no eye contact unless I absolutely have too. She was shocked.

I can be confident in my job, my head is up and I am 100% focused on my patients. When it comes to time out of work, my head is down, i will be focused on getting home or doing errands as fast as possible to get back to the safety of my own home.

Thats my little update!

[manuel_moe_g]

wow

so interesting your relationship with exercise and your body

The stupid thing is I am back running at elite levels with great stats, yet still I feel so broken, not good enough and not fast enough.

so sorry you feel this way. i am working hard on dealing positively with the mean voice in my head, it seems to be getting better for me

My optometrist wants to get me onto a different type of glasses, a pair that helps with short and long distance. She had to measure the position of my head when I walk naturally. I said I always walk with head down, make no eye contact unless I absolutely have too. She was shocked.

I can be confident in my job, my head is up and I am 100% focused on my patients. When it comes to time out of work, my head is down, i will be focused on getting home or doing errands as fast as possible to get back to the safety of my own home.

this is interesting too

really wishing you lovely things to form inside your head, you deserve to treat yourself sweetly

[troebia]

[...] running the risk of pushing the bike uphill in shame, or take a different way and endure longer more manageable discomfort and not have to push the bike and feel great shame in doing so!

MF, I'm going to be a bit harsh and you'll probably not going to like this:

There's so much benefit to be had with exercise, but the performance anxiety you describe seems to be taking it away. Maybe you're simply not old and decrepit enough to have had your body throw away all desire and hope of perfection, which is both a downer and also kind of liberating. Push your bike and own it ffs.

But on the other hand you've also lived through some serious trauma, so I can't understand why or how you keep those expectations alive. Maybe you'll say you compete only against yourself, but you've only arrived at those judgemental standards somehow through exterior influence. There are times when you yourself seem like your worst enemy.

I can be confident in my job, my head is up and I am 100% focused on my patients. When it comes to time out of work, my head is down, i will be focused on getting home or doing errands as fast as possible to get back to the safety of my own home.

That 100% servile thing is another red flag. Oh no, some might say, wouldn't you hope and expect for example an air traffic controller to always be at 100%? The truth is that nobody can be 100% at anything, and that's why (if we continue the air travel analogy) there are pilot checklists, software guidance and automatic warning systems, and qualified people are watching each other all the time. Imo it's more realistic to aim for 60-80%. We people fuck up sometimes because we're people. We become tired and call in sick to work sometimes only because we feel unmotivated. And that can even serve another purpose sometimes: to lower yours and others' expectations on yourself to realistic, more human levels. That also enables us to have a continuous, balanced personality instead of splitting it into at work/off work for example.

[Mental Fairy]

Thank you both for your feedback, none is it pissed me off! I actually agree with you Troebia.
I waste so much energy some days on self doubt.

Yesterday for example I didn’t run, jog or bike. So all the energy I would have used for that went into keeping my head on the work desk bashing against my brain trying to stop the self hated talk for not doing it. I felt tired, drained from the ride the day before.

Back soon, going for a run this morning!!!!!stop rolling your eyes I can see them from here!

[troebia]

Ok MF, I'll take that as a green light to keep on bashing, then.

Not doing an exercise routine because you're tired and in need to recharge is not time lost in any way. Choosing to focus your limited energy and resources on a certain task at the cost of others (that may seem equally "necessary") is simply adult behaviour.

But what are you really doubting about yourself, and what is the self-hate about? You've for example mentioned body issues before, like feeling too "big": would you say you're objectively overweight or could it be anorexia? Vigorexia? Self-flagellation? Or could the incessant exercise routines be an escape from something that gnaws on you, a bit similar to my unproductive doodling and masturbation? You've mentioned early sexual trauma but everything about your presence here seems to say that you have control over all aspects of your life now, and that you are sincerely loved.

Trying to relate here... I don't "hate" myself even though I've had suicidal thoughts and I'm disappointed with lots of things in my life and with my body. I could say I hate my tinnitus but it's like saying I hate war or cold weather, it doesn't go away or change anything. My expectations on myself (and others) are now so low that for example my daughter would probably be shocked if she knew. There is nothing in philosophy or quasi-religious practices that could help me at this stage. I swim in life's current only trying to avoid the sharp rocks like an animal, although this doesn't preclude a certain amount of self-care: I still go to have regular check-ups, take my vitamins and I'm trying to lose some weight now. I enjoy reading and I study Italian which is a feel-good challenge. I can enjoy art. But I am basically a failure, from way back, and I don't really mind anymore. Life is absurd and I don't feel that an eventless day is wasted or pitiful since that is not something that an animal would even consider: it's just day to day until death.

[Mental Fairy]

Morning Troebia

You can have all the green lights you like! Fire away.

You’re spot on. From a very young age, 13 years onwards my mother would insist on changing my hair colour to blonde. She didn’t want me to have dark hair. She would, while intoxicated sometimes hold me down to shave my legs.

I just wanted to not look feminine or be cute or attractive for obvious reasons. No one understood this part of me.

Again very young, I was on the bigger side as a child but not overweight, she would put me on endless diets. Over time in my teens I became rather self aware and body conscious. I saw nothing but a fat person, when looking back now at a couple of photos I do have I was thin and clearly not interested in having my photo taken. Mum even put spot cream remover on me to get rid of any freckles. I remember it burning. My cheeks were always red from the cream.
At age 16, I was found to be very low on iron and diagnosed with a thyroid tumour that needed to have radiation. Having six months off school then only going back for half days at a time was mortifying. All the friends I did have walked away from me, then I meet my future husband who just wanted to play soccer or surf. At lunch I would hide away in the library or kill time hiding somewhere in the school. Not one school I went to felt comfortable or welcoming. Then one teacher found out I was a sex abuse victim, he offered me a classroom to stay in away from others on my bad days.

I ran away from home at 17, took off to the South Island. Once mum found me I was dragged back and made to live with my offender for a week as punishment. Going home however was no better as there was one living there too. At this stage my grandparents were in the UK. I could only live with them when they were back in the country. I was too scared to even use the bathroom at night as I knew this man my mother was with was only feet away from me.

Into my late teens early 20s I really struggled to watch my mother with her newly released partner, convicted sex offender and stalker. I watched her go through many men and many affairs. She was very good at hiding her true self. I was always broken however. My problem with food soon began after I gave birth to Matt. I felt I had no control, the day I gave birth was the same day my beautiful protective grandfather died.

September 2007 I was cornered in a room by my mother’s partner and grabbed, he pulled me to the floor and I will stop there. I hate myself for not fighting him, for being frozen in time. For allowing such disgusting behaviour to be inflicted onto me. His words he said and things he did are beyond sickening, I was a grown adult for fucks sake, what the hell is wrong with me? The spiral began in 2007 having watched my mother bleed to death in front of me, torn between feelings. No one deserved to die such a horrible drawn out death but yet again I felt she did. I had no control on emotions. She got off her chest only hours before that she knew what was being done to me. She apologised. I broke into pieces on all levels.
The only thing I could control was food, self control and training began. I moved to the South Island and sold absolutely everything that reminded me of my family. Bulimia and anorexia became an on again~ off again dance.

Then cancer came a knocking. Partial removal of left breast, bowel problems and the fight to keep healthy went up a level. In 2015 I was facing my own mortality, it was all laid out in front of me, the end was promised if I didn’t get well. I ran hills, mountains and roads. I didn’t begin biking until we moved back to New Plymouth to begin the healing journey.

So here we are, over ten years since I moved back here, still fighting some demons, still processing and fighting to stay well. Running keeps my demons at bay, biking also.

I am light years ahead of where I was, the chronic depression diagnosis brought masses of shame. How could I let things get that bad? I sat in the office of a team of specialists who asked why I attempted to take my life, why I felt so worthless. My answer….because of her.

Being nothing like my mother, I strive to be my best self, however at times I catch myself out saying something she might of said to me, then I feel disappointed in myself.

The day before I gave birth to Matt, I sat outside a glass wall of an intensive care room watching my grandad have air breathed into him so he could live another day artificially. A priest came and sat down next to me and asked if I knew what all the machines were doing for him, I got so angry. I replied with some sarcastic reply and walked away from grandad knowing he will not be there another day to protect me any longer, I was on my own.

Once upon a time physical pain used to get to me so fast, now it is nothing in comparison to emotional pain. I’ve been down the path of the medications to help with anxiety, I’ve abused them and have great shame over this. Now I won’t even take a Panadol. Yet and stuck on immune deficiency medication that is degrading my kidneys and liver.

Having my hand put back together at Christmas was incredibly painless, all thanks to mindset and breath work and a pinch of determination to not take anything to upset the bowel. I’m very aware of what is happening inside of me and listen to it intensely, but sometimes the negative wins on my weak days. I don’t like to be weak, that is what I was told for 27 years, until she drew her last bloody filled breath.

So here I am, planning the next run and itching to get back on the bike. I love to run in the rain as no one can see my tears.