Darn computers! I was just working on a post...one that needs some editing yet, and suddenly a message popped up that said, "Automatic save is turned off because this post has been published."
ACK! What? I didn't publish that, it needs editing. But I looked at my blog and sure enough there it was. Curse, curse, mutter, mutter. So I did the best thing I could think of...I copied it and deleted!
Whew, problem solved, right? Wrong... I "follow" myself on google reader (because something like this happened before!). I wanted to know if deleting it on my blog would delete it on google reader also...apparently not. It's there.
So I apologize for offending your delicate sensibilities with my grammar and spelling errors...I am going to fix those and repost...sigh!
If you have an email subscription...I don't know if it emailed before I deleted or not...
NOW that we are on the subject though...if you don't already follow on google reader, or email or some other kind of reader, you might want to give it a try! I love google reader. Instead of manually clicking on each blog I want to follow to see if there are any new posts, I just 'subscribe' to them via google reader. Then with one click, all the current blog post from the many blogs I follow are there at my finger tips!
Email notification would be handy too.
Anyway, that is just a thought. As for me, I think in the future, I will do my rough drafts in microsoft office to prevent these "crisises" in the future.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Exercising the Dragon
Sometimes I wish I had kept my blog a bit more anonymous because at times there are things that I would like to say...anonymously. For example, I would like to share a current experience I am having with the Dragon in the Cellar. In other words, where anger from the past meets anger from the present. However there is the possibility that someone could be hurt by that, and I would never want to ease my pain by hurting someone else (accept perhaps my abuser...I won't spare his feelings in what I write.)
So I can only say...I am angry with _________. Because ________ did _________. Can you believe that? I know you would be furious too! My therapist asked me to write a letter (not necessarily to send it!), and express my feelings. So I wrote a letter and I said ____________ and _________ and _________. Then I wrote ______________. It was like creating a door and letting the dragon get some exercise.
The dragon, as you can imagine, is a bit stiff from being cramped up in the cellar for so long or to be more clear, I still struggle to accept my right to be angry about what happened (then and now.). You have heard how abused women will often say, "it wasn't his fault, I deserved it". Well, I don't say I deserved it, but I do make a lot of excuses for this person's behavior.
I think this is the most incomprehensible blog post I have ever written. So, you know the saying, "a picture is worth a thousand words"....so since I don't have the right words, how about a picture?
Yes, I did paint this myself...in my son's kindergarten art class.
It reminds me of those ink blot tests that psychologists sometimes use, Rorschach tests. So I showed it to my therapist. He seemed to find it ver-r-r-ry interesting....
So I can only say...I am angry with _________. Because ________ did _________. Can you believe that? I know you would be furious too! My therapist asked me to write a letter (not necessarily to send it!), and express my feelings. So I wrote a letter and I said ____________ and _________ and _________. Then I wrote ______________. It was like creating a door and letting the dragon get some exercise.
The dragon, as you can imagine, is a bit stiff from being cramped up in the cellar for so long or to be more clear, I still struggle to accept my right to be angry about what happened (then and now.). You have heard how abused women will often say, "it wasn't his fault, I deserved it". Well, I don't say I deserved it, but I do make a lot of excuses for this person's behavior.
I think this is the most incomprehensible blog post I have ever written. So, you know the saying, "a picture is worth a thousand words"....so since I don't have the right words, how about a picture?
 |
| I call this Rorschach as art. |
It reminds me of those ink blot tests that psychologists sometimes use, Rorschach tests. So I showed it to my therapist. He seemed to find it ver-r-r-ry interesting....
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Call me Mrs. Dumpty
I hate to admit this, but I am fragile. I suppose that is no surprise to you, but like I said, I hate to admit it and that admission begins with myself. By now, it shouldn't be a surprise to me either, but sometimes it is.
For the last month (two, three...sometimes I lose track of time) I have been doing a lot better. I mean the emotional roller coaster that is my life, had smoothed out quite a bit. I was pleased and during those times it is easy...I will submit even reasonable....to feel hopeful that I am healing and that the worst is behind me. Unfortunately, that is an illusion. At least for now, maybe someday it will be true, but for now it is not.
So I one day I was cruising all through the daily agenda, as we all do, when BAM, I hit a wall.
Perhaps later I will explain what the trigger was that caused my mental house of cards to come crashing down, but for now it is still too close and too painful to discuss publicly. One phone call, and suddenly I felt as if I were 4 years old again....alone, afraid, in pain, with no where to turn.
Remember I explained to you about my Haunted Mind. I think I need to revisit that and explain it better....but for now suffice it to say that I was in a room and I was four years old and so afraid. Then suddenly I was across the hall and I was an adult, calm and emotionless....call me Spock. Then suddenly back in the room where I was four again, and crying. I spent hours like this switching back and forth between these two rooms. Later, an angry room was added, an angry child.
I am in Spock mode now, or I wouldn't be writing this. Sometimes when I am in that 4 yr old child space, I do write, but only in my journal. I can't share that right now, but some day when I have some distance from it...perhaps. I have thought that some day when I am healed (if such a thing is possible) that I will write a book, it would have my blog posts, but interspersed chronologically would be select entries from my journal..."the rest of the story"... I think for you it would be like watching the movie, Gone with the Wind and then later reading the book. The story line wouldn't change, but a lot of details would be filled in.
Call me Mrs. Dumpty is my way of saying that today I feel like an egg. An egg when you hold it in your hand and squeeze it is unbreakable. Seriously, try it if you haven't before. Squeeze as hard as you can and it will withstand the pressure. Sometimes I am like that. I can withstand a lot of pressure. But take that same egg and hit it on a surface, and it will shatter. Sometimes I am like that. Sometimes I am fragile. I really hate that, but that is life with PTSD and Dissociation. I hope that I won't always be this way, but for now...
Call me Mrs. Dumpty.
For the last month (two, three...sometimes I lose track of time) I have been doing a lot better. I mean the emotional roller coaster that is my life, had smoothed out quite a bit. I was pleased and during those times it is easy...I will submit even reasonable....to feel hopeful that I am healing and that the worst is behind me. Unfortunately, that is an illusion. At least for now, maybe someday it will be true, but for now it is not.
So I one day I was cruising all through the daily agenda, as we all do, when BAM, I hit a wall.
Perhaps later I will explain what the trigger was that caused my mental house of cards to come crashing down, but for now it is still too close and too painful to discuss publicly. One phone call, and suddenly I felt as if I were 4 years old again....alone, afraid, in pain, with no where to turn.
Remember I explained to you about my Haunted Mind. I think I need to revisit that and explain it better....but for now suffice it to say that I was in a room and I was four years old and so afraid. Then suddenly I was across the hall and I was an adult, calm and emotionless....call me Spock. Then suddenly back in the room where I was four again, and crying. I spent hours like this switching back and forth between these two rooms. Later, an angry room was added, an angry child.
I am in Spock mode now, or I wouldn't be writing this. Sometimes when I am in that 4 yr old child space, I do write, but only in my journal. I can't share that right now, but some day when I have some distance from it...perhaps. I have thought that some day when I am healed (if such a thing is possible) that I will write a book, it would have my blog posts, but interspersed chronologically would be select entries from my journal..."the rest of the story"... I think for you it would be like watching the movie, Gone with the Wind and then later reading the book. The story line wouldn't change, but a lot of details would be filled in.
Call me Mrs. Dumpty is my way of saying that today I feel like an egg. An egg when you hold it in your hand and squeeze it is unbreakable. Seriously, try it if you haven't before. Squeeze as hard as you can and it will withstand the pressure. Sometimes I am like that. I can withstand a lot of pressure. But take that same egg and hit it on a surface, and it will shatter. Sometimes I am like that. Sometimes I am fragile. I really hate that, but that is life with PTSD and Dissociation. I hope that I won't always be this way, but for now...
Call me Mrs. Dumpty.
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