Thin Skinned

I started a blog to find and fit into a community of people like myself. I am amazed at how many strong and loyally supportive people there are surrounding PTSD and other diagnosis of the mental persuasion 😉 You all have given me strength beyond words. It is from that support and strength that I have begun telling my story in the real world. At 40 years old, I am just recently able to see that I am not alone in my struggle, even if I sometimes feel that way.

Night terrors are one of the worst side effects of being brave and vulnerable in telling my truth. Making progress though, feeling positive and trying with every ounce of strength left in me to keep going and living. I am not alone in that feeling and fight.

I learned tonight, once again, that I am thin skinned. I have rainbows and unicorns in my head when I write and publish my posts. I get so excited because I genuinely want to add to the love and support that is out there for those like me. Sometimes though, its not all good. I have a love/hate relationship with the comment section. I’m not out to hurt anyone so I am hit like a ton of bricks when something negative comes my way. Some people don’t understand a euphemism or idiom..at all. As a person who LOVES idioms, it almost always takes me by surprise when another person can’t comprehend them and take the phrases literal. Then there are others who simply enjoy being sad. I didn’t believe that anyone could enjoy being sad, but it’s real. Spreading sadness isn’t pretty, nor is it enjoyable for the rest of us who are trying so hard to keep the reaper at bay.

Keyboard warriors feed off of each other and spread negativity all over the internet without a thought to how their words may hurt that person or those around them. People have feelings; celebrities, politicians, writers, or other people who are just trying to build a support network and gain momentum for a cause. In my case, I have seen the absolute atrocities that were had through many movements throughout history and modern day and I strongly feel that we are in the midst of an historical movement for PTSD and other invisible illnesses. Survivors and those who are living with a mental illness should respect and support one another. I dont agree with every blog post out there but that doesnt give me the right to criticize nor condemn.

In a time when people are being torn apart, it is people like me and you who need to stay close together. Next time you think about voicing a negative opinion, think twice and remember that the people behind the keyboard have feelings too.

 

YouAreAmazing@mypurposefulmind.com

We Are Waging War

Seriously! Lets talk about sexual assault and PTSD. Survivors are speaking out each day, trying to help others with their knowledge and experiences. I think it’s amazing, people think it’s great, inspiring, brave, and many other amazing adjectives. It is great and it’s important.

I am calling out the perpetrators!
When are you going to come out and say:

• I have a problem
• I have hurt people in unimaginable ways
• I am a rapist
• I am a child molester
• I perpetuate the rape culture

Never, ya know why? The perpetrators are weak. Yes, I am being judgmental and I have earned that right! I have come out of my shame and I have spilled my truths and my shame. When will perpetrators be as strong as we are? Never!

They could step up and get help but only the strong and brave do such things. Good people are filled with adoration, empathy, compassion…perpetrators don’t even know what those are. They aren’t good people at all, they are weak cowards. They stay quiet in public but we all can hear you. We see you, we know you. We live with you every day; in our nightmares and night terrors, in our depression, in our self doubt, in our shame, in our openness. We hear you in your silence. We will speak for you since you are too weak.

We will speak so loud that the next person you hurt will make you feel the shame! A victim will become the survivor and will speak out without fear. They will know that they are not alone and will be supported by an army of seasoned veterans. We know you and you can run but you can’t hide. We will find you and we will make you feel the shame that you have earned and so deserve.

An army is on the way. We are growing and stronger than you will ever imagine. We are so loud that soon no one will fear you and they will not be controlled by you. We are waging a war that you cannot possibly win; you are too weak in your silence and shame. You are disgusting, vile, and alone. That’s you right? Of course it is, because if it weren’t you wouldn’t be hiding. You would be capable of having real strength and owning up to your actions.
Are you capable of having real strength? Call 911, and tell them, or you can just wait…someone is coming for you.

Chunk It Up!

Chunking is a term they use in the advertising world; reframing the old and making it new, more palatable, and interesting. Did you know that people are more likely to finish their antibiotics if you place 5 colored pills in the bottle and tell them to take them last. It’s all the same, we just make it look different and take it step by step.

Rory Sutherland does a great job of explaining the trickery of perspective in his TED talk.

My Twitter handle @chunkingminds reminds me every day to take it step by step and trick my mind if I need to. Today is a chunking day; I made my list and I chunked it up. One thing at a time. I usually get a lot more done on days like today, as long as I really chunk up my list. I make my list into really small parts. For example:

1. Get coffee
2. Blog while drinking coffee
3. Take shower
4. Get dressed
5. Remember you have an appt at 6
6. Put something in the washer
7. Check off the list
8. OMG you made it so far today, now check this off too 🙂

I make 3 goals for the day and add them into my list bit by bit. Maybe I do half, maybe I do all, but at least I did something! Hopefully, for my family’s sake I actually got into the shower…socks or no socks 🙂

PTSD Night Terror!

The horror! The blood curdling horror and screams that awaken the house and my poor husband. It’s sad what PTSD can do to a person. I thought the terror had subsided. I have been on Prazosin for a bit and its used to treat night terrors for those of us with severe PTSD. Every once in a while, though, they break through. It’s like they have been bottled up and come through hard and slow. You can’t break free of them. Sometimes that is what makes functioning even more difficult the next day.

I don’t normally share a day-to-day, but last night is so raw and so painful that i want to share it in hopes of gaining some feedback from others. If you don’t want to comment please e-mail me at YouAreAmazing@mypurposefulmind.com

I could be more descriptive but I fear that it would be more hurtful than useful. I began screaming and screaming so loud. It’s funny how when you have an actual night terror, your screams come out and your words are loud. People argue between a nightmare and a night terror but I’ve had plenty of nightmares and I can tell you that a night terror is something that doesn’t compare.

My husband is headed out of town for work and needed to be up extra early this morning. He shook me awake and I had once again wet the bed like a child and felt so much fear that I was scared to even get some medication (it was downstairs). It’s a feeling of sheer terror as though the evil person from whatever dimension has followed you into the real world and is just waiting for you to move. I was frozen in fear and shaking and my chest felt like I had just run for miles. They are relentless sometimes and take every last drop of your energy. I couldn’t fall back to sleep because my mind was still in dimension X and I didn’t want to go back there. I began sobbing like a child and at this point I am completely humiliated. I don’t know how my husband could be any more loving and accepting, he’s super human!

 

 

Thanks To Those Who Inspire

Proverbs says that pride goeth before the fall. In my case, it’s definitely true and I admit it openly. I have to talk about Afflictive Emotions; Anger, Pride, Jealousy, Attachment, and Ignorance. My ignorant mind is attached to them in the most unhealthy ways sometimes.

My above the line is my mindful intentions, peaceful place of getting through the day. My below the line is my ignorant mind place where PTSD rears its ugly head. I do a really great job of staying above the line…generally. If I could stay above the line I wouldn’t be defensive about my life and I wouldn’t have pride on as my shield.

When my pride takes a hit I assess the potential damage to all of my attachments (afflictive emotions) and then all of my brains compassionate reasoning flies straight out of the top of my head like an erupting volcano. The lava of anger freely flows out consuming everything in its path. When anger is on a rampage all rational thought dives deep into the safety of some warm hidden corner of my mind. My anger is further fueled by fear which is my kryptonite. All of these steps happen within about 5 seconds just before a full shutdown sequence initiates > disassociation.

IGNORANCE! The reason each of these emotions begin, sequence, and end in the shutdown of my clear thought and reasoning is ignorance and lack of strength in my  mindfulness. Not the, lack of knowledge type ignorance, It is the ignorance as seeing myself as being separate from others, from nature, from the world around me. ALONE!

If there is one thing I have learned from the blogging community and twitter, it’s that I am not alone. I may be alone in my head, and look around and nobody is here in my worst times, but I now feel this army with me. This army that is trying crush a Berlin wall of stigma and help people understand that we aren’t garbage and don’t deserve to be called names and excluded. The true ignorance, the lack of education kind of ignorance, lies within many outsiders. What keeps me above the line is knowing how strong we are in surviving our struggles that are invisible to others. The outsiders don’t know and, in my opinion, are few in comparison to what I have seen since I began writing.

It’s blogs like youngandtwenty ,  blackspotsite , Take A Ride On My Mood Swing (hilarious!), Seeds 4 Life , and many more that lift my spirits on some days and help me understand that I am not alone in my thoughts on other days.

It’s Twitter peeps like @PTSD_chat and their wednesday night #PTSDchat , @bipolarinbiz , @LauriDMeizler , @HealthyPlace and many more who keep me engaged in working toward being #100%unashamed 🙂

Thank you to all who put themselves out there in their writing. If you are thankful to have touched just one person in your writing…you have! Much love and respect to you all. NAMASTE

Mental Health Disability Haters

Mental health disability is a complicated topic. According to NAMI Currently almost nine million individuals receive SSDI, and as of 2013, 35.2% of recipients qualify for disability based on a mental health condition. Much like Lady Gaga’s latest song, you really can’t fully understand how it feels until it happens to you. I’ve heard it and still hear it from time to time, the rantings from the outsiders:

• “Seriously, get off your ass, you’re fine.”
• “Get over it.”
• “Why are you so weak?
• “We all have anxiety, it doesn’t mean the world is coming to an end.”

I’ve heard it all before and now it just falls on deaf ears. At first though, I felt shame. I was being judged and being judged can hurt.

Fear is judgments secret weapon, like a scorpions stinger. 

Truth be told, I was an outsider once. One of those judgmental people who thought she was so strong and didn’t understand how people could be so weak. I was fine and after what I have been through..well, if I can do it then anybody can do it. It wasn’t until I had a serious “break” that all of the pain and tragedy and trauma came gushing out. I was a house of cards all along.

It was then that I realized how incredibly strong those weak people are!

It takes more strength to be vulnerable than I ever could have imagined. I couldn’t keep going and I didn’t understand why. If I didn’t understand, then how could I expect anyone else to understand? It takes enormous strength to begin the journey.

It’s hard for people to see me as being someone who has survived multiple sexual assaults, PTSD, bipolar, and on and on.
I still hide it well. I “present well” my therapist tells me. The key for me is only coming out of the house when I can hide it. Why? SHAME, duh! I’m ashamed of being seen as someone who isn’t who she used to be. I’m ashamed of being judged by the outsiders who think how I used to think.

Once you have reached your limit as a survivor and come out on the other side, you see the world differently. Things that are daily life for others trigger you. It’s different. Let’s face it, if workplace culture is killing people who don’t have disabilities what will it trigger for those of us who do?

I would have never been able to get my bipolar stabilized and begin the process of trying to manage my comorbidities without being able to fully focus on myself and my journey. Being able to be on SSDI and focus on my health makes me a better person for society and my family. Truth be told, I started paying Social Security before I was even of legal age to work. So for all the haters out there, I hope that someday you can have the opportunity to truly focus on yourself and forego the ego that controls your judgement. Perception isn’t always reality!

 

Workplace Culture Makes Me Crazy

Common workplace culture isn’t conducive to facilitating success. Period! Human Resources hands you a packet after a series of interviews and tells you that you should take a half hour lunch, get up every 20min and getting enough sleep at night is critical. It just doesn’t work that way though. Google recently put out their research study on workplace culture. It’s a long read but they found some fascinating information on group behavior.

I have been preaching this for years; you can talk about workplace culture, you can hire executive coaches, perform team-building exercises, etc. etc. What it comes down to are actions. You are provided an iPhone or Blackberry, not so that you can be flexible when life beckons your presence (as HR doc’s may claim), it’s so that you can work 24/7, 365.
I learned that culture from being awakened at midnight when an e-mail came in, requesting an immediate response from an EVP.
When on my wedding day I was answering e-mails while walking out in my wedding dress for pictures. I think the photographer even had to crop out my iPhone in one!
I could have easily not answered those e-mails, but there was a fear instilled, from observations, that I would have received a lesser year-end bonus, been passed over for a promotion, or simply looked upon as unfavorable. It’s those hidden, intangible, totally unintentional lessons that we learn; the non-verbal, body language cues, the social relations, that truly rule the workplace culture.

“The ignorant mind does not question appearances to determine if they are correct; it merely accepts that things are as they appear.” ~Dalai Lama

If your power performers are instinctively motivated by ego they will lack structure in their own schedules, create bureaucratic structures and roadblocks which stifle free thinking and communication. This type of behavior defines the values of the organization. Sorry, but your values driven mantra and HR paper is garbage if the true culture doesn’t reflect them. It’s the lack of proper hiring and oversight that breeds this unintentional culture and its dangerous. Perhaps, lethal!

Health problems associated with job-related anxiety account for more deaths each year than Alzheimer’s disease or diabetes.  The American Institute of Stress states “Increased levels of job stress as assessed by the perception of having little control but lots of demands, have been demonstrated to be associated with increased rates of heart attack, hypertension and other disorders.” People are dying, and that it’s costing BILLIONS of dollars. It’s killing people! 

Did I mention ridiculously expensive? According to Forbes; workplace stress is responsible for up to $190B in annual U.S. healthcare costs. We have proven that workplace culture (or lack thereof) is a problem.

What am I getting at here?  If mental health awareness is to really take root in our society, we need to start embedding it in our cultures. We can start by fostering empathy and open communication in the workplace. Holding executives accountable for setting an example of a healthy workplace culture each and every day. It will trickle down!

If people who have no history of PTSD, Bipolar, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, panic attacks, etc., are dying at the hands of their employers workplace cultures, how can you expect those who have mental health illnesses to possibly be able to integrate?

What If I Told You?

You have no idea who I am. You have known me for years and you have no idea who I am. You think you do, but you only know what I choose to show you. If you had taken an interest, I may have let you in, but you haven’t taken an interest, so you stay on the outside. I want to tell you, but I don’t know what it would solve for me. I may feel an emotional release for a moment, but then what if you didn’t react the way I expected or intended?

• What if you still didn’t come by to say hello, maybe have dinner or check in with your grandchildren?
• What if you didn’t recognize the absolute heart wrenching pain your son has gone through and how he has traversed a 99.9% deadly ongoing sea of rapids and come out a different man?
• How he has supported a wife that lay on her deathbed 20 times over for the past 4 years and helped keep her alive.
• How he used up his vacation time sitting at my bedside instead of driving me to an emergency room.
• How he protected your grandchildren from seeing the pain.
• How he managed to thrive in his career through it all.

I don’t know how to tell you without expecting something in return. I don’t know how you could possibly understand. I don’t know if I could understand if I were in your shoes.

Maybe being 100% unashamed isn’t about telling people what you have, its about accepting who you are. I’m still navigating this part of my journey. Suggestions and experiences welcomed 🙂

Hiding Behind Her Smile

Sitting there with a smile on my face that I have learned to make stick. I’m dying inside, Klonopin is my best friend right now, but I want to run. I stay in the same spot, chair back to a wall and just smile. It never fails that the seat across from me or next to me is quite utilized. They want to talk to me. “what’s new?”, political stuff, no religious talk. I have learned to keep the conversation off of myself and speak about all of the beautiful attributes of those around me. Its easy for me to pick out beauty in others and it keeps people from getting too close to personal questions. It’s me that I struggle with, not them. It’s the lies that eat at me. I don’t want to tell them that I have had horrendous experiences and hand over my list of diagnosis. I really don’t, but then again, I do.

They speak of how unfortunate it is that someone we love has bipolar and how much they love them and do for them. I stand there in silence. Bipolar is a big deal, it’s hard. Sometimes manageable and sometimes not. I get it. I have it. I have comorbidities that bounce off of each other like that ball in the racquetball room. It’s hard to catch. I stand there alone….again. The silence from shame.

I want them to see my struggle so that they stop unknowingly minimizing what my husband and I have gone through just to walk into that room. It’s not their fault, the shame I feel sits with me and me alone. I want them to know so that my shame will end, but it won’t. I’ve worked hard to hide it all and I will keep going. My husband is worthy of knowing me and as he gazes across the room at me, he sees through it and smiles. In those moments I think he is proud of my strength. It makes my glued on smile worth it every time.

Finally, it’s over. Yes, hugs all around and the cheek kisses and genuine appreciation for being able to be with each of them. As we get into the car to leave, he looks at me and says “everyone kept telling me how beautiful you are.” You did a great job tonight. His way of acknowledging my sincere effort and the collapse I will have the following day as all of my strength was just drained from every fiber of my being. Hiding from my mother-in-law, and my husbands entire family each and every time I see them.

How do I move through this…

 

Photo: Sia

Coming Out Of My Cage

“Mommy you’re always too busy for everything.” We live in a culture now where providing the “American Dream” is about more than sacrificing Daddy’s time. Now our kids raise themselves as both parents chase that elusive place where all is paid off and you can finally sit in that chair you’ve worked so hard to build. I’d like to think that most of us have a nagging feeling that we’re missing out on the most important things in life. If it still lingers then maybe there is hope for change.

Not long ago I would make my way on the subway into the financial district and as I came up out of the dark tunnels I would look up and feel the sun beaming down with warmth that filled my whole body. Why am I here? Why am I walking in this crowd like cattle to another dark hole?

Always in a room. First its a classroom. We learn colors, life & its principles, the world around us from a book inside a room. Then it’s an office or modification thereof. Many kids have become half feral, the other half somehow led to believe they are entitled to what others have earned.

I bought a book one day that took my daughter and I, hand in hand, out into nature and we touched tree bark and talked about it, sat in the grass and talked about life, felt the leaves and watched as they danced in the wind. Not too long after that the dragonflies came and sat on our knees to join us. A magical experience. Meanwhile, I’m begrudgingly counting the seconds until my next conference call.  Seeing her smiling face and listening to her express her love of all things non-iPad, iPod, Macbook, and Apple TV related made me realize that I had a much higher calling than a conference call.

What do I want for my life? What kind of example do I want to be to my children? It wasn’t much later that I resigned from my position and was a full-time stay at home mom. I had NO idea what to do with myself and I quickly learned that, in my circles, being a stay at home mom isn’t looked upon kindly. My kids were thriving but still had to make up something when their friends parents asked what their mom does for a living. I went on this search to find me. I’ve learned to look within and I’m still working on me, but one thing I know; I’m a hell of a lot better off on my worst days than those miserable SOB’s that I used to work with.

My kids are so happy to have the freedom to go with friends, have friends over and play sports…because mom can take them! I find myself reading more and being creative. I’m beginning to come out of my cage 🙂

Hopefully I will be successful at teaching my children to do the same.