Getting to know you...or is that me?

[Just Sara]

After more than 20 years of trying to work out what was wrong with me; and this continues, I found the closer I got to being well, the more isolated I felt. The main point of contention has been seeing myself through the eyes of others. When I began trying to identify myself as independent, all hell broke loose. Conflict on all sides, especially within myself. I sometimes want so much to live my life ignorant of what I've learned. Becoming a self aware individual has it's freedom, but it also has a back-lash. For me that means seeing others for who they really are and learning to walk away from abusive people and situations, even if they're family. Becoming who I thought others wanted me to be, has defined me my whole life. I became a fervent observer of human behaviour and interaction to avoid the 'inevitable', beginning when I was only a toddler. Little people tend to blame themselves for the actions of others. So I trained myself to be who I thought they wanted me to be. This didn't work of coarse, but the damage was done and I became a reflection of other damaged people.

I asked myself a few weeks ago; "Who am I in the core of my own heart, my own truth?" and closed my eyes. I saw myself as a little girl in a baby blue nightie swirling around the yard at dawn on a warm Summer's morning. The memory was vivid and I smiled to myself as I watched. I danced and hummed to myself enjoying the light breeze on my face without a care in the world. Then things changed to another scene where I was a couple of years older. I was again dancing in front of the TV when Sesame Street was on. It was a classic jazz number. I felt my heart grow warm and seemed to glow brighter as I reflected on these memories. It was music and dance that defined me, my joy and happiness. I've always been great at event planning, especially parties. And; music has to be the centre of activities. 

I shed many tears that day as the realisation hit. I had been ignoring myself and pandering to others as a matter of coarse because it felt normal/safe. Now that I'm trying to define and create a new me, the anxiety, panic and depression has morphed. Being an individual seems lonely and difficult. Many changes have come about since my mental health declined, but I suspect it is stepping out into the unknown to find 'me', a courageous little girl dancing her way out of my own heart.

[Croix]

Dear Sara and Dottie~

I find my words are not there ready to use so I’m struggling. Friends are a rare commodity. At best perhaps parents, partner, plus a couple or four in a whole life. Discard parents for whatever reason and the remainder are more rare and precious again

To see a friend emerge from hospital when one held grave fears is a moment to be cradled in the mind, a milestone in the order of things

Perhaps my words are clumsy - but what I say is true, never have had much choice on that

I wish you to have …

I remember psych ward. Far too much to recount now except something I said elsewhere:

Standing inside the ward - it was quiet and I was in a little corner by myself, looking out the window I could see the cars go by – they were small as I was high up, their colors muted by the window's tint. I could see pedestrians about their business, crossing roads, going into shops, coming out again. I could see a few scraggly trees with movement at their tops – pigeons

From my high place authority figures, the arguments of others, their opinions, nastiness, worries over my problems - over everything - tended to recede and become less urgent, more remote. Pressure slowly eased

I was fortunate in the psychiatrist that admitted me was understanding. A particular kind nurse gave me simple books to read

I remember coming out too. Suitcase in hand. Wife having to finish a shift and then come from far to get me. Sitting in a café over the road, looking at people, wondering how many ex-patients had sat there, were on other chairs there now.

Calm of new meds plus ward protection versus resumption of life. That was my main worry. Would it last or crumple before the onslaughts of normality? What would those at work and others I knew think, would I be treated differently – even by my family?

I was picked up, I went home. Nothing different at all except love and relief obvious on my wife’s face. Those at work, except for one discerning lady who sent me a card – to the correct ward – had hardly thought about it. “Croix was ill, he's back. Now about that budget meeting …”

I was not treated differently, but I was different. Refreshment of the soul, knowledge of an available retreat, better meds plus more. I saw the world in ways that became increasingly clearer- more accurate. I’ve coped better since and not always fallen down the same pits, or if I have then not so deep.

… hope confidence and an acknowledgment of your strength (yes you too Dottie)

Croix

[Guest_322]

Hi everyone,

Thanks Sara, thanks Croix and hi Starwolf- nice to see you here.

Dottie xxx

[Just Sara]

Hi Croix;

Thankyou..your rendition of events during your own stay on psych ward 'duty' is similar to some of my moments of stillness..candid talks with kind staff, purposeful isolation then leaving behind a fish bowl of odd bod's..my home for 10 days.

A fave pass-time; tree gazing as the wind blew gusty then gentle thru and around them. Sitting in the parkland on a shaded bench gave a front row seat to many aged tree's, probably holding memories of old going back several decades, maybe even a century.

Cigarettes also played a role in routine activity with other patients. Five days ago I hollowed out a very old large bush with overhanging flexible branches. I twisted them over each other, then raked the leaves and butts thrown in there. (hidden evidence) I placed chairs and a butt bin for convenience. It was cool, a relief from the heat of the day. Many secrets and confessions are held in its branches and trunk. (and my memory, never to be revealed of course)

My main accomplishment? Integrating lost, abused, abandoned and frightened child into my adult body and heart..clearing the fog and pain. I'm finally home. (where the heart is) And; safety/independence from 'out there'.

I was tested tonight. A movie with many emotional scenes. I felt my chest squeeze, then put my mind/body/focus to work on grounding and mindfulness. It took around 10 min's, then relief. I did it at a time I would've lost the plot previously. Pat on my back...

Finding balance in an unbalanced mind and world.

It sounds like we both had positivity and healing from our stays. Thankyou for discussing your experience to encourage me to do the same.

Warmth and kindness...friend

Sara

[Wilma1]

Sara, welcome home. Wishful

[Just Sara]

Thankyou Wishful;

It's nice to be welcomed back by you. I'm doing well and posting up a storm to regain ground. It's a little daunting to get around every thread I want, but will endeavour to get thru them over the coming days.

Many thanks again...Sara

[Croix]

Dear Sara, and you too Dottie~

Dottie: I included you in my post about being in psych ward for 2 reasons, the first is because would be hard to do otherwise knowing you:)

And the second, a little more serious, is that I didn't know if either you or Sara had ever been in a psych ward and for you I wanted you to know that it can be a bit like going to the dentist - unpleasant but in many cases worth it. I sincerely hope your are never in that situation though.

I hope you didn't mind me including you.

Sara: As I just said to Dottie I didn't know if you have ever been in that situation before, and if not you might be like I was and wonder if gains made there were going to be permanent. I wanted to reassure you that it is indeed possible for them to last.

BTW I smoked too at the time, you may remembered the post I made on your humor thread mentioned the matter.

Frankly for me the worst thing of all was feeling for the others in there. I remember one lady weeping she had no money and was stuck. I contacted a nurse and said to give her some of what I had (money for books), however I was curtly told to MMOB. So that was that. The money came in handy anyway and bought the books I needed.

Quite a difference in staff - like life I guess, some good, some not. Overall pretty good.

Anyway Sara I can only hope it did you as much good as it did for me.

Nice to see you 'packing' again, though you really do need to re-assemble your assault carbine if you intend to use it:)

Croix

[Guest_322]

Hi,

Thanks Croix and to echo Starwolf and Wishful (hi btw) welcome home Sara.

Dottie x

[Croix]

Dear Dottie~

Normally you have something to say, but your last posts have been v short.

Are you ok?

Croix

[Guest_322]

Hi Croix (shoutout to Sara),

Thank you, as always, for your kindness and sensitivity. I think anyone who reads your posts can sense that from you.

No, I'm not okay. In saying that, I don't really want to talk about it. I just don't see how talking- in general - will make things better for me.

Some people feel better after they tell a story. Some people feel even better after they tell a story multiple times. I'm not in either of these groups- I often find that the more I talk about something, the more painful it gets for me.

I hope this doesn't come across the wrong way. It's not that I don't appreciate your support but sometimes words are too painful. That's partly why I'm so enamoured with music. Music is my language.

Thanks Croix and Sara- keep doing your amaze thing.

Sara, I'm glad to hear that your calm state is continuing. Your hospital stay sounds like it was just the place you needed to be to regain your equilibrium.

It's amazing that you have found home within yourself. Adult and child reunited in you is an incredible achievement.

Well done on passing the movie "test." It sounds like you're going from strength to strength and have found your feet again.

Wishing you continued peace.

Dottie xxx

Dottie xxx

[Croix]

My Dear Dottie~

No some boxes are better left, and talking can be like sandpaper, so feel free to be silent. Hmm -eerie. Maybe you have a playlist you might like to share at some time when you feel like it.

I deliberately did not give you what I was listening to in Croix Parler as I'd been somewhat 'melancholy' recently and thought gloom and doom to music was just a tad too powerful to share, even if it resonated with me.

Maybe I was wrong. I only gave you a silly little semi-hopeful song.

Incidentally if I fluked a smile with the confession of playing the illuminated keyboard it was worth the embarrassment.

You noticed the subtle pun there? Really Dottie, I thought you were sharp - oh you did get it, good.

I'm off (like my joke)

Croix