Here is a copy of an email sent to my book club, somewhere around December 21st, expressing my vulnerability to experiencing the episodic nature of PTSD, which, having emerged from its subconscious hiding place on Thanksgiving, clouded my connection to clarity until my intuitive powers had time to detect specific triggers that had shattered my current connection to personal safety. BTW: Each year, I organize and enjoy our winter holiday luncheon, though, this year, I found myself unable to attend:
My Dear Friends,
I’m so glad to know how much you enjoyed our luncheon on the mountain, overlooking the valley. Each of your emails made me smile. Actually, I came quite close to joining you until, upon reflecting over times when my desire to enjoy an event with friends saw me stretching too far, too soon, I called upon self restraint so as not to set my diminished energy level two steps back. And with self restraint calling the shots, I decided to deliver the centerpiece and return home to relax—until my phone rang, and Steven asked if I felt well enough to help Celina (who’d been experiencing a great deal of pain) by taking care of Ravi, again.
As prioritizing my family’s welfare over everything else is a no brainer, I replied, of course, followed by asking Will to drive me to the restaurant to which he’d cheerfully agreed, because he’d noticed how naturally my spirit had lifted in anticipation of surprising all of you with the centerpiece that I’d assembled the evening before, and sure enough, I felt my spirit lift another notch while arranging an assortment of festive playthings for Toys For Tots on the table (I’ve had everything in the house for many weeks).
While composing the note that you found next to the centerpiece, my heart filled with gratitude as my mind felt free to express my vulnerabilities without the added concern of protecting myself from negatively focused judgement calls. After all, we can’t know our true friends until our vulnerabilities have been exposed at which time we become aware of individuals whose attitudes prove condescending while others offer up the healing balm of heartfelt compassion, generated by generosity of spirit, which, flowing freely forth on rays of loving kindness, naturally soothes the troubled portion of our souls.
Knowing that we’re all fated, now and then, to be recipients of condescension and compassion, I consciously embrace an attitude of neutralizing my initial reactions by reminding myself of this fact: The little we learn about about another person’s history is similar to judging the size of an elephant by holding on to its ‘tail’ while blindfolded.
As this current episode of PTSD proves to be a doozie (triggered by several current events converging, all at once), I’m thankful that my family has come to understand the complex mental process that I must figure my way through whenever each next episode of PTSD hijacks my logical connection to clarity, and in addition to appreciating my loved ones’ patience with my need to cocoon while piecing together my shattered sense of personal safety, I feel deeply grateful for their loving support until my subconscious retreat into the distant past has had sufficient time to subside within the peaceful sanctity of our home.
Sometimes this complex process extends over days, sometimes weeks, as proved true during Will’s cancer scare, four years back. That event triggered my first full blown episode of PTSD (each of which darkens my sense of clarity concerning reality, compelling my intuitive powers to muster a whale of mental concentration while spotlighting those aspects of a current event, which are triggering an episode to erupt so that those specific triggers cannot shoot my processor’s connection to self respect and personal safety full of holes as the future unfolds.
Presently, I feel tired; however now that clarity concerning recent triggers is mine, I no longer feel mentally confounded so as to render my think tank too dizzy to drive as had been true for several days when my thought processor, hovering between yesteryear and today, felt too light-headed to call forth my intuitive powers to guide my newfound sense of wholeness toward mustering the courage necessary to piece together yet another shattered portion of my self esteem by reassuring my conscious awareness of readiness to release another subconscious layer of fear (repressed during childhood), so as to empower my adult intelligence to take a leap of faith toward fully embracing this current growth spurt at hand.
As to Celina’s pain, a trip to the ER determined her bladder blocked, and when the hospital sent her home with a catheter inserted rather than admitting her, I saw red and had to calm my frustration, concerning money grubbing insurance companies, which turn a blind eye to the importance of compassionate patient care. The catheter was removed three days later in a urologist’s office, and other than continuing discomfort, Celina is voiding; however, we still don’t know what’s wrong, so Will and I have been taking care of Ravi’s sweet smile, ensuring that her energetic spirit experiences good reason to recharge, every day.
David flew in with his ‘little brother’ Bryan, and they’ve been helping Gramma and Papa to keep Ravi’s active three year old, high octane energy level fully engaged with fun.
Ever since learning that her Papa is a doctor, Ravi, holding her doctor kit in hand, runs straight to Will whenever she has a booboo, so that he can examine her, after which she reassures Dr. Papa that he has helped her to feel better.😊
Last but not least, I’d like to thank Gabbie and Renie, who, after the luncheon, left the festive table decorations at my front door—upon finding them, I wondered if one of Santa’s elves had stopped by, most likely while Papa and I were accompanying Stessa, who enjoys taking her dolly for a walk behind our house late in the afternoon.
Today, David, Bryan, Ravi and I plan to drive to the local fire station where we’ll drop several cuddly little critters off at Toys for Tots. Bryan has been David’s ‘little brother’ (and an integral addition to our family) over these past eight years. Perhaps you met Bryan at our 50th anniversary celebration. How can that be almost a year ago, already?
Thanks for listening to the Cliff’s Notes version of my past two weeks. Imagine my spirit smiling at my good fortune for countless reasons, eight of which point directly to each of you.
On the up side, my need to cocoon (until intuitive thought cleared this episode of PTSD out of my mind ) offered me down time to read several books that we’d chosen, last Spring. Secondly, Ravi’s sweet presence acts like a straight shot of dopamine. At times, when I’m resting, she brings her doctor’s kit to my bedside, examines me with each plastic instrument, offers me medicine and tells me I am feeling better ... and out of the mouths of babes, Dr. Ravi is right. I am feeling better.😊
And now, with my spirit floating on heartfelt clouds of gratitude, I’m wishing all of you a jolly holiday season and a healthy, peaceful New Year
😊💕🎄🕎🌈🌻Annie
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