Dealing with trauma triggers - part 3

Healing from trauma is not easy. It is a daily struggle that can make you feel intensely alone and lonely. Because so few understand what you are going through. As with Fibromyalgia, and the sacrifices it forces you to make, only those who live(d) the same experience are able to grasp your reality, if only to some extent. 

It was my dear friend Birgit who first came up with the hashtag "little boat of healing", after I had mentioned it in one of my poems on Instagram. Since then I posted several very personal pictures on Instagram, and inevitably, I got judged for being too sensitive, too negative, too dark. I stepped away from social media then, wondering if I should continue. My primary goal for the posting was trying to help others in similar predicaments. I know I'm not the only one dealing with this kind of trauma. Instagram-friends acknowledged that, stating it is my account, and I decided what content comes on it. But after I threw myself into my pit of darkness, a response consciously triggered by my ex who is suddenly being the best dad ever and takes my son out to do all sorts of activities he knows I am unable to do, I stepped away again. I needed time to reflect on what is going on. Inside. My mind often feels too full to function correctly, I get lost in my own thinking. I now part of this is caused immense exhaustion of being wary all the time, of carrying the Fibromyalgia pain, of being at constant war with myself. I had just started a Ginger Kitty Sketch theme on #littleboatofhealing, raw sketches only, but I do feel the need to draw more elaborately, freely. Because as the posting I did on Instagram did help me find some order in chaos, so too does my drawing. To be able to put thoughts onto paper in the form of images that mean something to me as well as other people, is a great asset I am pretty proud of. And I do not pride myself on something easily. As a matter of fact, that is one of the side paths I know I need to walk, while trodding on that big path of healing.

✸ As Tara Brach asks in one of her guided RAIN meditations: What would happen if you did not talk to yourself like that? What would happen if you let those thoughts go, what kind of person would you be?

I am seeing more patterns of trauma response daily now. The way I try to compensate for my ex's erratic behaviour towards our child, so similar to how I tried compensating towards my mother for my brother's wickedness. The blaming myself after I fell into yet another trap of my ex's, the way I always blame myself after something went wrong, even if I had nothing to do with it. The shutting down completely when the Darkness arrives and the desire to cut loose every bond I still have, so similar to how I used to confine myself to my room, unable of any kindness towards myself or the world. The blaming of others for the way I feel, when in fact a lot of my misery is kept alive by myself. As Tara Brach asks in one of her guided RAIN meditations: What would happen if you did not talk to yourself like that? What would happen if you let those thoughts go, what kind of person would you be? I reflect on that a lot, both in my own RAIN meditations as throughout the day. I often think, regardless, I would be a much kinder and nicer person had the trauma never happened. If my mother had been able to muster up her own courage to seek healing of her own. Instead she turned my family against me and blamed me for being so miserable. Amongst the beatings and all the other psychological warfare, that is. But it would be easy to blame her, and it would not help me to step out of the trance of traumatic response, which is why I need to work on me.

✸ I had just started a Ginger Kitty Sketch theme on #littleboatofhealing, raw sketches only, but I do feel the need to draw more elaborately, freely. 

Ginger Kitty Sketch will surely help me. And I will, eventually, return on Instagram, but just not now. I really need to get myself back on the road to healing again, and that requires focus on myself. Not in a selfish way but in a kind and caring manner, so that my self can grow while healing from those cracks and dents caused by the past. I am not naive, I know I will never heal completely and the scars will ache and itch from time to time. But to be able to recognise the dynamics, to see the patterns, and to acknowledge my own responses to situations - without judging them and without judging me - is essential. Right now, this self of mine is far too fragile, too susceptible to what others think I should be doing. I lost my self for a long time, and now that I found it again, I will not risk losing that connection. I will still get into trance, I will make mistakes and get overwhelmed by the Fears and the Darkness. It is an inevitable truth. But with each day passing I am confident I will grow to see those experiences as opportunities to grow from. It is a long, winding road that will continue throughout the rest of my living days. But now I know, deep in my heart, that I will not have to walk it alone. 

Dealing with trauma triggers - part 2

It is a difficult thing, growing. Especially when you were brought up to believe you are worth less than a fly's crap on the wall. It also is difficult because of the flashbacks and the night terrors, and the overall need for being vigilant. To be wary all the time is exhausting. It likely caused my body to develop both colitis ulcerosa and Fibromyalgia. While the first chronic illness is well under control and poses no issue, except for the hospital meds drip every 8 weeks, the latter caused me to lose my job as a children's therapist. It robbed me of much more, socially and financially, as well as freedom and connectedness. And my EMDR therapist acknowledged the base of it is likely rooted in childhood trauma. Thank you so much, mother, and father, and brother, for so cunningly creating the opportunities for the Fears and the Darkness to move into my self.

My earliest trauma memory pinpointed at age 4, with my mother pinching my nose forcefully to have me eat cold and thickened in oatmeal porridge. I am wearing my beautiful red terry cloth apron, with a fir tree and a deer on it. And I only feel fear, a deep deep threat, when I think of that moment. At that time, my brother was. He was a terrible pain in the ass. He could be quite gentle, but had a streak to his character that was right down vicious and evil. In time, that streak grew to become his main character. My mother lost control over him as soon as he turned 4. And that must have triggered a lot of trauma in her own being - she herself was seriously abused during her own childhood, by seemingly everyone of her family, but most by her parents. 

✸ The Darkness was so suffocatingly strong, I could barely see where I ended and the Darkness began; I had turned into it. 

The Fears and the Darkness have ruled my life for as long as I can remember.
That is, until the divorce created a schism. 

Because that divorce symbolised me saying: I deserve better than to be treated this way. I did not deserve his narcissism poured over me every single day, my child did not either. I certainly did not deserve to live the rest of my days in fear of what would happen if *he* lost it. I have only a slight idea about what he is capable of, and I did not risk to wait to find out. 

This change in my normal proved essential for growth. As I mentioned, I went looking for help, in order to save myself. That can be understood quite literally. The Darkness was so suffocatingly strong, I could barely see where I ended and the Darkness began; I had turned into it. Being always short on funds, as I am disabled and financially dependant on the Government for welfare income, I had no money to get proper therapy, but also, I had ambiguous and even bad experience with four different therapists earlier (one I was appointed to by the Pain Clinic, 3 others were relationship counsellors who each sided with my ex and made me responsible for the health of our bond), so I did not want another classic therapist.

✸ It became clear that my trauma wanted out. Out of my system. Out of my mind.

I turned to a coach, for highly sensitive people (HSP). That step proved also major in me looking for alternative ways of healing. I went to see the coach only twice, and later also a couple of times with my child, who is HSP as well. It became clear that my trauma wanted out. Out of my system. Out of my mind. I looked for meditation apps, and re-invested in my yoga practice. Later I also contacted an EMDR therapist, to dig into the core of trauma - when covid-19 shut down life as we knew it, this therapy was helping me greatly and I even experienced alleviation of my Fibromyalgia pain, but it could not be continued, as EMDR demands safety in face-to-face contact. We scheduled a video conference but then she forgot to actually schedule it and I felt forgotten, and unimportant; trauma trigger, indeed. We were able to do the conference anyway, and I did mention how I felt, and why - she was a bit taken aback by it - but since then there has been silence, and I am afraid to reach out, fearing she does not have time for me; yes, trauma trigger again. I have no idea when I will have the courage to step out of that triggered thinking.

In the meantime, I focus on meditation and yoga, and I also dare to reach out to those special souls who have supported me for so long. That, too, is growing, if you ask me. Because with these friends, even though the Fear of Abandonment is still strong, I feel I can risk to be open. And with the RAIN meditation I am able to both acknowledge, allow and soothe the Fear.

Dealing with trauma triggers - part 1

Looking back on my life, my growing up to the person I am today feels like an entanglement of traumatic episodes, kept alive by attaching myself to similarly toxic persons as the one who started the primary narcissistic abuse. Those episodes, in addition, are not seldomly triggered by seemingly innocent events or confrontations, pushing me into the corner of defense and self-destructive talk, leading me time and again into a vicious cycle of hamster-wheel running. And I get tired of it, literally and figuratively speaking.

So, where to start in the attempt to get out of this trance, as Tara Brach calls these moments of being caught up in the emotional backlash, the limbic response to life?

For me, change subtly took off when I got divorced. Seemingly amiable in nature, this divorce was in fact mean and slick. It was a matter of conceding on my part, and loads of resistance on his. We had made a list of things we each liked to keep, equal in worth. It turned out, as I realised years later, that I had willingly given up a lot of stuff that was in my right to keep. He never mentioned that of course. He even got upset when I insisted on keeping the good steaming iron as my - weird - parents had given that to me as it is an easier and much lighter one than the old iron. There was a minor quarrel over books to keep; minor, because I soon gave in. I was reluctant to start bickering over that - books were stuff, not things I absolutely wanted to take with me. As far as I was concerned, I just wanted out, to be safe. And I wanted my child out too, for his safety. My ex was a very unpredictable force of darkness back then, and he was frightening me.bulging under frustration.

✸ I would talk myself right into my own pit of darkness, deep enough to be unable to see any flicker of light.

His darkness since then crept back under his skin, seeping through in carefully timed flashes, mingled in with neutral or even kind conversations, flipping the scales straight back into the turmoil of the marriage. Now that I am physically away, it feels easier to take those moments on, but only slightly so. At first, I fell into every single trap - he would say something he knew triggered me, and I was on it, head on, bulging under frustration, anger, self-resentment, blame and guilt. I would talk myself right into my own pit of darkness, deep enough to be unable to see any flicker of light. Two years after the divorce, things got so bad I realised I needed help. Right away. That decision saved my life.

This is the fourth year after fleeing the marriage, and I have been working on dealing with my childhood trauma which got enhanced by both the marriage and the toxic friends I mingled with. It is a strange thing, the way we look to attach to what we know to be normal. Not too long after my initial EMDR therapy sessions I recognised how I desperately try bonding to people who are similarly toxic as my mother and my ex are. It still is mind-blowingly baffling to me. I have put myself in emotionally destructive situations, just because they were familiar. As a result my responses were inevitably trauma triggered: I'd lose myself into blaming them, blaming me, shaming myself, resent myself and wanting to disappear because I was as useless as a pig's backside (as my mother used to snap at me; another favourite was that I was too stupid to dance for the devil). I'd shut down completely and attack the friends triggering me, posing myself as a miserable piece of shit that they maltreated consciously. no wonder I lost so many people back then. No wonder I started to think nobody loved me because see, they were always leaving me, sometimes after yet another trauma tantrum, or after they had used me for whatever healing they needed me and then lost interest. Both happened on a regular basis, I just kept blaming them and blaming me, and failed to see what was underneath it all. I call them the Fears and the Darkness. 

Peach, A story of Trigeminal Neuritis

It's been a while since my last update on the cats and their NHV supportive system. Yesterday I added this year's medical course in the family diary, just to keep track of things, and to have all information listed in one spot. This year already is proving to be very challenging, what with Tiger's Hyperthyroidism and Peach's Trigeminal Neuritis. There is treatment for the first; not so much for the latter. And this is where NHV, once again and thank goodness for that, steps in.

No lust for life

When Peach first showed signs of struggling, it was early March. He stopped eating, got very uptight, and lethargic, as if life lost all meaning. As a normally social and entertaining kitten - he had yet to turn 2 years old back then, but we keep referring to him as a kitten - he grew distant, grumpy and he started keeping to himself. He started keeping his mouth slightly open, without any significant reason. He lost weight too. I checked his gums and they showed a thin blood-red line right above his teeth, there also seemed to be a tiny ulcer in his throat. My hopes that maybe he had eaten something bad in the garden, faded quickly.

Within 5 days - with a weekend in between - I contacted the vet. X-rays were taken, blood was drawn, vitals were checked, gums and throat were closely looked at. She did not like the mouth staying open. At all. She feared a heart issue, and since he is so young, she ruled that out first. The blood test came back okay, luckily.

The X-rays she took then, showed no infection of teeth or jaw bone. His 

gums showed mild inflammation but not as bad as for him to stop eating. The ulcer in his throat posed no issue, either. "However, there could be inflammation of the jaw joint, and that does not show on the x-ray." So he was treated for that: Antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory/painkiller, for about a week. The gum issue would heal that way too. (Treatment from March 11 until March 20.) Not too long after we discovered that Peach had some urinary issues as well: There was grit found in his bladder. So he was put on Hill's k/d dry food to help ease that. I could always soak the kibble in water if he was unable to eat it. 

In the meantime I contacted NHV who have been very helpful in the past, with Spook, and stepped in with Patches' flakey skin as well as Tiger's Hyperthyroidism. We agreed to give Peach Tripsy to support his kidneys, and also Mouth Drops for gums and Turmeric to boost his immune system. Though he likes the Tripsy (he licks it straight from the dispenser), he detests the bitterness of the Turmeric and the sharpness of the Mouth Drops, so at that time, I took to giving him only the Tripsy as he started to hide from me at dinner times.

Steroids treatment combined with NHV supplements

After the antibiotics treatment, we had to wait and see how things went. It was easily noticed: Eating remained a big issue. He'd grow tired while eating, he refused anything that he could not lick up. As weeks went by, he'd sometimes skip meals all morning, but take to afternoon meals like a wolverine who's been on a hunger strike. Then, all of a sudden, the dry kibble proved to be easy manageable again - if only as fast snack times.

By the end of April, the vet and I talked about possible medical treatment and decided to put him on a short treatment of steroids. It might help with pain and discomfort. I got back to the people of NHV and we decided to add Turmeric and Yucca. 

The - short term - steroid treatment did not do a lot for his issues, but during that time, Peach seemed to return to his frolicking, cuddly self. He would again ask for scritches and hugs, he would play again with Spottedleaf, he would run in the garden and even snatch a blackbird chick from its nest.

In six weeks (April 28 until June 7) he was safely put off the meds, but we continued giving him the supplements. 

What now?

After I wrote the vet an update on both Tiger and Peach, he got back to me yesterday. We talked about the progress of the Trigeminal Neuritis and a scan to determine how bad the jaw is affected. The vet advised against it, stating it would not be helpful regarding treatment (as there is none for a cat this young, and we had just discovered the steroids are not that effective), and it would need Peach to be anesthetized, which he'd rather not to for something that would not be helpful. Plus he said, knowing my financial situation, it would also be quite expensive for something that would only confirm what we know and not be a guideline towards healing. He will struggle with eating for the rest of his life but at least it is unlikely the illness will progress to affect his entire face. 

So today we celebrate Peach and his tremendous courage, for strutting his way from a stray 5 week old kitten to a loving 2 year old companion who comforts you when you are sad and who treats you to melodious purring when you gently massage his face.