How long before I
shatter (how long since
the first time?), shards fracture,
scatter across floors,
life forces pour from
structures meant to hold
me in;
only to gather each tiny shape,
hold it to the light, marvel
at how I keep carving
something new, before I put
my pieces back
together.
What type of break comes to mind?
Is it something you do, or something that’s done to (or happens to) you?
In what ways can breaking be beneficial to recovery?
Feeling this word. I’m wrecked; too many 14-hr workdays leading up to this week’s conference. Pain is frantic-level, energy hovering on empty. I don’t know how I’m going to find the strength to pack, let alone power through 4 nonstop days in a crowded convention center. Always on, always my A-game. (Even when I have to use a cane. I don’t want to, but it’d be foolish not to bring it.)
It was 13 months ago when my central nervous system first noped out on me for real, and only 6 months since I flung myself into this space, this work. Since then, it’s been one long puzzle – not just putting the pieces back together, but figuring out which ones fit, which ones to toss.
Last week, when I took a break from work to see a new practitioner (livin’ the dream), for the first time I heard the term CPTSD in the context of my physiological health. After a thorough discussion of conditions, signs, and symptoms, he asked if there was any traumatic event or ongoing trauma I wanted him to know about as part of my medical history.
I liked the way he phrased the question – complete agency to discuss or not, but also, validation that *of course* decades of hypervigilance have trained my body’s systems to attack me. We’re crafting what appears to be a legit plan to trick my immune system into getting all of its friends to behave (don’t worry, it’s not the apocalypse, none of it’s covered by insurance, so yay more freelance).
I’m tired – tired, and angry, because part of this was preventable. All She had to do was protect me from Him, instead of protecting her status quo.
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