In Retrospect
After feeling so terrible yesterday I had some insights I’m still integrating.
Trauma Brain "works" according to Childhood Logic. Here is what seems to happen:
Students send me beautiful notes and donations for teaching online and keeping community going. Related: contribute money for my training.
I meltdown in anxiety, shame, despair, and feeling like I’m a failure and a terrible person until I'm nauseous, can't eat, & get weepy.
Further compounding the misery, I can’t ask for help. Trauma Brain is constantly reminding me that asking for what I need is A) Dangerous physically or mentally or both, B) No One Will Help, because C) You’re not worthy of having you needs met.
And then comes despair.
Today was better. I discovered a great photo I got of a bee butt in the garden and I did a hard thing successfully, I even felt successful!
Terrible Tuesday
Today felt hard.
It didn't matter that I taught and it made people feel better. They sent me money and I began worrying; will I have to give back unemployment because people give me $2.50 a class?
Food felt hard and then I burned my dinner and CK's was dry.
I felt so weepy and despairing. I'm less so now, now I just feel angry.
It wasn't even like I read or watched any news. I didn't do any errands. No anniversaries that trip me up. Nothing other than living during a pandemic with a Federal government that keeps gaslighting us while behaving creully.
Monday Monday
It wasn’t all I thought it would be, but it was an alright day for a pandemic. I believe we’ve been doing this for just over fifty days. I made us fancy dessert involving chocolate and the microplane.
I’m really glad CK is off call as of tomorrow at 10. Her 3am pages haven’t helped the tired feelings the past week.
Still making art that tracks the ever increasing death toll. I’m counterbalancing with participating in photo groups and other things, like fancy dessert and Animal Crossing.
Same Old Rage
I felt tired today and finally took a nap after lunch. We played video games, each our own, we attempted to repair the greenhouse, and I did laundry.
I feel like I need to write something insightful. That's how I get stalled blogging. No poems, no idea what to say. A title totally stumps me.
I'm tired, my head hurts, I am deeply sad, I'm furious. I'm hurting, and very angry for my child self. I’m afraid for the world, for us. I’m sad CK won’t get an amazing 40th birthday like I had.
Out front yard still needs weed whacking, we so beyond mowing. The moments we’re all ready to do it, it starts pouring rain.
We’re getting better at working together again. We’re getting caught up. I never feel like I do enough.
Raindrops on plants in the garden have me joy today.
Smoke and Mirrors
I’m realizing more and more how childhood logic created my belief that I’m utterly toxic. It explained why people left, it explained why my Mother hurt me, and keeping it propped up was less painful than confronting the feeling that I’m worthless.
This logic comes up when I find myself walking through my Mother’s last years of her life. I catch myself in the act of noting all the ways I failed to heal her. I notice that I’m sure I hastened her death.
My “core of toxic danger” is a smoke screen. Something easier to work with since I get to just blamed myself. Accepting I have this deep chasm of worthlessness is so painful that of rather be blaming myself for her death than accept that her abuse told me again and again I was worthless.
The more I keep going into it, the more clearly I see that the core message of my early childhood was that I was worthless, or, as as my Mother was fond of saying*, “You’re more trouble than you’re worth!”
*If called on saying things like this, my Mother, and other family members would reply, “I’m joking! Don’t be so sensitive, can’t you take a joke?!”
Mayday
Thought about this play on words with today’s date several times. A call for help. The first day of May.
Today was more productive. I recorded a new video after teaching. My Sunday newsletter is nearly done. I got some groceries after which I took a hot shower then made a large margarita.
I’m trying to make our Fridays a little special, so the days don’t blur together. We had chirashi last week. This week we had frozen margaritas and fancy salads with a creamy dressing I made with avocado, soaked pepitas, cilantro, lime, and seasonings.
I still don’t feel like I get enough done, but I played Animal Crossing anyway. I think I’ve felt that way for decades now. I’m guessing the trauma contributes; the feeling that I must earn my worthiness again and again. The feeling like I’m dangerous and terrible unless I offset it by productivity.
No haikus tonight, but I am working on a poem!
60,000 and Rising
Why have I been making ragey art tracking this number all month? It feels like I'm cleaning a wound. I feel the need to bear witness to this number.
I wrote 30 haiku those month too. Generative, even just silly things like Animal Crossing, have offset the rage art making. I'm getting some rhythm to this new, unchosen schedule.
There's been good in this month. It's precious to have meaningful connections when the news is so dreadful. Next month I might try to make art about survivals that weren't expected. Celebrations even if I'm still ragey.
Day 30 Haiku
Beginnings. Endings.
Neither coming nor going.
I am always whole.
Revealed Self
Today I told students that teaching online is more about supporting my mental health than recovering the income I‘ve lost teaching for the City. It came up because students were asking about ways to pay me and if I’d contacted the Silver & Fit organization about getting registered with them and paid forth my classes.
I told them I hadn’t had the bandwidth for it, and this week I’ve been dealing with pharmacy stuff and had therapy. My cortisol brain can only manage so much in a day.
I told them to just come. To email me pictures of flowers in their yard or paper notes, which I treasure. These are all perfectly good payment options since teaching online is helping my mental health.
It felt highly vulnerable and like I was doing something wrong. Which probably means it was the right choice. This is a crappy method of figuring out what to do, but here I am!
Daring to reveal.
Vulnerable to be seen.
No more hidden Self.
Restraint Keeps You Safe
Today, to contrast yesterday’s despair waiting in and out, I was anxious all day long. I felt like a failure, despite all we got done on the weekend. Tomorrow’sa therapy day, so it might well be more of the same.
I'm still thinking about language, this selection from Lao Tzu, translated by Ursula K. Le Guin, has been one I was reflecting on before the pandemic. Now it feels especially apt.
Fame and Fortune
Which is nearer,
name or self?
Which is dearer,
self or wealth?
Which gives more pain,
loss or gain?
All that you grasp will be thrown away.
All that you hoard will be utterly lost.
Contentment keeps disgrace away.
Restraint keeps you out of danger
so you can go on for a long, long time.
Now for today’s haiku! I didn’t set put to write a month of haiku, but at some point my heart just decided to go for it. Haiku is the first type of poetry I learned about, learned to write, so it feels fitting.
Distant for safety.
We find new ways to reach out.
Connection endures.
Despair and Roses
Rounds of yardwork, laundry, and bouts of despair; there it was, raw despair about pretty much everything. Set off by trying to sort out our dinner, but truly not related.
We've not eaten a meal out our take away in over six weeks. This may be the longest I've ever done since I was a child and Mom and I lived on food stamps in low income apartments. Not counting free meals at school.
My Mother liked eating out. Liked fast food, convenience foods. After marrying my stepdad this was all more accessible and became part of every week.
It is so hard when at times neither of us wants to eat and we need to. This is an area that's especially hard for CK, her medications exacerbate her sensitivity about certain foods/textures and that's all aside from gluten intolerance.
Usually it isn't too hard. Today though; despair for a few minutes.
And then there are these roses making our back yard smell glorious. I'm so grateful for this and the gardening I could do today, plus all they laundry done!
Sunlight on roses.
Warm, heady scent fills the air.
Linger this moment.