if i don't write to empty my mind, i go mad.
~lord byron
adversity is the first path to truth.
~lord byron
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madness is such a threatening matter of discussion. i believe we all have our own personal ways of slipping in and out of madness.
equally as threatening, sometimes, is the construct consisting of the pursuit and maintenance of control.
madness and control... two invasively strong recurrent themes in my life. really?
i am learning that i do try to control most of the emotions that bubble up in me. and this means of control keeps my personal madness at a distance.
writing has helped ease the pain of bits of my madness...and i continue to meet adversity upon adversity on my path that seeks my truth.
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i have incidents, times in my life that have hurt me. not knowing HOW to process them, i have a PLACE for these incidents... deep, dark, hidden. i've mastered this PLACEMENT, this control over many years.
when something rattles those carefully placed incidents, my madness is awakened. all my strange tricks scurry to get everything back into its place.
hmmmmm. madness, control, careful placement, order, tricks to maintain that order... all different components of the SAME spectrum.
i'm experiencing the tremors of a foreseeable personal earthquake. my order is getting shaken; things are falling OUT of place; my madness is yawning in its newly agitated revival. impulsive ideas bounce around my cerebral cortex...turning into tricks to keep the madness at a managable distance.
my hysteria is effervescent...on it's rise to my surface.
therapy is more difficult than ever imagined, more frightening, and brings about more sickness in me than i thought possible.
thank you for reading....as attempt to empty my mind...and face adversities.
I have often felt like that... As though if I didn't empty my mind, I'd go mad... Sometimes that has meant writing. Sometimes my ED behaviors performed that job. I think writing is the better option. ;0)
Yes, therapy is terribly difficult... I relayed a story to my therapist the other day about this... I told her about when my sister was in middle school, and she was suicidal. My mother, ever the snoop, found some dark poetry she'd written. Instead of getting her ACTUAL help, my mother THREATENED her with THERAPY!!! LOL! Yep... That may explain why my sister doesn't agree with therapy today. And why it took me so long to get help. And why I felt so guilty for being there, and sometimes still do. And why, even though I sometimes actually ENJOY being there, I can't seem to get comfortable... My therapist has tried to get me to relax on the sofa. Ha! Not there yet. ;0)
Anyway, yes, it's hard... For a multitude of reasons. Beyond my surface scratching, there is the truth that we loathe to break open beneath the surface... It's never comfortable. Or easy. I don't think its meant to be... But we're strong enough. YOU'RE strong enough. :)
trueimage and skywriter jen--
thank you for assuring me that i am not alone... and for your kind words....
thanks, jen, for the giggle about getting comfortable on the sofa during therapy sessions. before i sit down, i arrange a few pillows behind me so i'm sitting on the edge of the chair... can't relax at all, really.
i have to report to my doc today for a blood pressure and weight check. uuugh. i hate this.
what ties me up in knots and entangles me the most- is that the more i try to walk TOWARD all this discomfort in the effort to obliterate my oddities, the more crazy and uncomfortable i am in my own skin.... sitting with this feels unnatural... and? this past week was my first *weekly* session... not enough time in b/t sessions- i don't know how to process all that is being revived within me...
but, i do have a bit of good news to report: i actually slept last night. :) my self-induced coma allows a full night's sleep but renders my brain USELESS the next day... and when i'm in a coma, i am unaware of needing my pillow-props to sleep... so i'm achy and brainless this morning. it's soooo worth a day like this in order to get some sleep.....
as always, i am grateful for this wailing wall and for my attentive sisterhood.
namaste-
xo
It feels like that for a while... The more work you do to unearth things long buried, the more raw and exposed they feel. Painful. But the pain does ease... I know we're feeling different pain, but I think pain just works that way, regardless of the source. ♥ Sometimes, even for wounds to our skin, we have to remove the bandage and allow some natural air to begin healing... It stings. And then it repairs. In therapy, we have to dig into the healing process and push ourselves along, often right INTO the sting. Which IS unnatural. And intense and overwhelming.
I dumped a ton on my therapist last month. Week after week. And now, she's giving me a bit of breathing room. The mood has been lighter. Laughter. Jokes. :) My surgery is coming this week... And then I'm sure I'll have to refocus my therapeutic energies on opening the wound once more. :P It's a long, hard process. But worth it in the end. ♥
It sounds like the weekly session for you, while uncomfortable and painful, allowed you to feel a bit of ease... Or at least to sleep. :) Sleep, I've found, can be every bit as beneficial as a session of therapy, though perhaps not as long lasting. ;0)
I seldom lose my pillow due to a self-induced coma. ;0) But I am frequently shoved off my pillow by a siamese cat. LOL! I am familiar with the aches and pains. ;0)