Fear and Courage

One of the things I learned recently was that if you don’t overcome fear, you become its hostage.  I did something I was certain would either bring silence or derision.  Instead, it brought confirmation, cheers, and joy, helping to break the bonds of fear.  Incredibly healing.

Encouragement is Sunshine for the Soul

Encouragement is like sunshine: it shines light into dark places and helps things grow.  It warms hearts cold with fear or discouragement.  Encouragement brightens our day.  It reaffirms that we matter, that someone sees our discouragement and cares enough to speak, either in words or actions.

The encouragement mentioned in the last post continues to bear fruit: I'm facing fears, trying new things, and growing in new ways.  All because a friend stated the obvious: I'm loved, wanted, and needed.  Such a gift.

Hell Healed

A year ago was a very hard time, described in the previous post.  Yesterday was almost a replay of that with a day-long Acro workshop.

I reached out to a dear friend who had attended and shared this blog with her.  Here is what she wrote back:

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Sweet Gail.  Thank you for sharing and helping me to better understand.  I'm really happy you felt you could.  I can see why yesterday was an especially rough experience now.

You are always so very wanted.

We love you.💗

You have the capacity for joy of a kid and you're fueled by a desire to help others to grow.  I admire, respect, and care about you.  Watching you blossom as a flyer and now as a base is something that [we] have brought up many times as being something we've enjoyed watching.

Dear Gail, you're loved, wanted, and needed.  Never let anyone dampen your spirit.  The world needs as many Gails as it can get but it only has one. 😢

Love you dearly and please know you can always count on us and always join in play. Xxxxxx

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It is such a joy, blessing, and answered prayer to be "loved, wanted, and needed."

Return to Hell

Little did I know that what I had hoped to be a fun five days of joyful AcroYoga learning would instead turn into a return trip to the hell of my PTSD.

I SO excited to go to Bend, Oregon for the Solar Immersion with Chelsea and Jason Magness. I hoped to get stronger, learn new skills, perfect existing ones, and become more confident in my AcroYoga practice. I did get a goodly amount of that but much of my learning was hindered by the constant triggering of my PTSD.

AcroYoga has been such a key part of my continued growth and healing that I had no idea of awaited me: rejection, failure, and more tears than I've shed in years.

Perhaps it would have been different if the fifth person of our group had joined us so one guy wasn't stuck basing two flyers alone, but that wasn't to be. The other flyer pointed out that she was concerned for the toll it was taking on the base's wrists I had to be the one to say that I would find another group. This just accelerated the descent into a hell of rejection as I wandered from group to group, intruding on their established trust.  If someone had tried to craft my worst nightmare, it would be this scenario: rejected, suspect, unwanted.

It didn't help that I was twice the age of most of the other participants and they had no idea what I could and couldn't do so they assumed the worst. It didn't help that many of the skills they were working were new to me and outside where I excel (washing machines). It didn't help that many sequences merely highlighted my inabilities. And it didn't help that my confidence was dashed early on and I spent most of the week in tears or on the verge of tears from a combination of PTSD and embarrassment of my muscular inadequacy. It didn't help that I was grouchy because of my rejection from those I thought of as friends. No one knew how to deal with me and I couldn't find a way out. Perhaps the hardest part was the base's decision that I was an unfit spotter. Every time I tried to spot -- something I excel at as an former professional gymnastics coach -- he would cut me off and not let me spot, cutting me off from the one path left of showing my usefulness.

So where do I go from here? I need to own my pain, follow the trail and unhook the triggering, listening to the cries of my inner child, soothing her, and finding my way back to the light and joy that I've found in AcroYoga.

There were moments of joy in the sorrow: Susan's kind basing, Patrick's smiles and basing to levels I never dreamed of, Chip's gracious basing when no one else would, Jason's kindness that later yielded a breakthrough in my press handstand practice and Taylor's kindness.

There have been several affirmations of my abilities since my return:

1. I excelled in class on Monday, succeeding in everything thrown at me with Leslie, Shawn and Alice, a joyous healing balm.

2. Then, at the jam, Leyla asked me to spot her on a difficult move where the flyer could be seriously injured with a fall. Fall she did and I guided her safely down from an overshoot. Then Sarah, another senior flyer, asked me to spot her on the same move and I also saved her from falling. And the base who cut me out of spotting saw the whole thing!

3. I was intrigued by the possibility of combining Ninja Star and Barrel Roll into a double washing machine. David based it beautifully and Soo, another senior flyer, complimented me on how far I've progressed.

A trio of confirmations, healing balm to my bruised ego. I feel better for owning all these things.

If I could summarize what I learned from all this it would be:

1. Own your sorrow or it will own you.
2. Celebrate your joys and they will lift you up.
3. Kindness yields beautiful flowers; use it often. 
4. Gratitude is rarely spurned.
5. There is always a reason for what we suffer. Find it or the lesson was useless (and you'll probably have to repeat the class).
6. You can only be who and where you are; all else is self-deception.
7. If you don't forgive, you are the only one who loses.
8. The hard truths always win in the end. Let them win sooner.

Learning and Moving On: Forgiveness is Key

It has been months since I last posted and SO much has happened since then.  I've become a part of a wonderful community of AcroYoga people who have enriched my life immeasurably and are helping me heal.  My life is richer, but a new challenge awaits: forgiving those who started the PTSD wagon train.  I've sent friend requests to the two women who triggered the initial trauma.  Please pray for me and them.  I want to tell them I have forgiven them.  Only time will tell if they will let me.

But you know what?  Even if they don't respond, I can still forgive them.  And the scarier task of finding and friending the ring leader of my sixth grade nightmare lies ahead.  Please pray for me that I might approach all three with true forgiveness.

When we don't forgive, it is like a stone on our heart.  Each unforgiven instance has weight.  Release yourself from that weight by forgiving.  It helps and your heart becomes lighter with each forgiveness.

Better and Better

Each year brings more balance and less writing here.  There are more people in my life now and I do less preventative withdrawal than before.  I'm also learning to deal with difficult people and even like them.  I've also accepted that sometimes I am the difficult person.  Humbling and helpful.

For the first time in my life, I actually believe people like me.  That happened a couple of years ago through an incredible group of women in a Zumba class I've attended for years.  One day, it just hit me: they liked me, they really liked me. Crossing the rubicon of regard has helped me grow and trust. 

I also found another book that helped my healing: John Ratey's "Spark, the Revolutionary New Science of Exercise and the Brain."  The data shows that exercise can help even out the emotional turmoil and bring peace.  While PTSD is centered around the fight/flight reaction and the hippocampus misfire, exercise can reset all those markers to responsive mode instead of reactive mode.  The more you exercise, the more often they get reset.

The other thing I've learned even more deeply is that God truly does work all things to the good (Romans 8:28).  Life is perfect.  We just have to figure out how. (Buddhist saying).  We may not be able to see how things are perfect right now, but I believe one day we will.

 I've learned is that I don't have to monitor others for mistakes or criticism.  I can just be me.  Putting down the role of judge and jury has been freeing.

So the new lessons are:

1. Be Mindful: Inhabit every single second and pay attention. Don't inhabit the past or future.
2. Be Thankful: Live in gratitude for all you love and all you have experienced.
3. Be Kind:  Show compassion, empathy and kindness to all you meet.  Treat people as if they are special because we each are special and unique.
4. Fight negativity:  It is our natural state but we can re-wire our brain to be positive by savoring the good and luxuriating in our blessings.

I still regret that I haven't heard from more people but I hope these posts help you in your journey.

Life Lessons from PTSD Recovery

Here are some of the things I've learned in my journey to overcome PTSD:

1. Goals are fine but progress is what really matters.
2. Life is a journey, not a judgement.
3. Baby steps are better than no steps.  
4. Trying and not succeeding is far superior to not trying at all: you learn more from failure than success.
5. Celebrate victories, but learn from failure: it may be the stepping stone to a future victory.
6. The bigger the challenge, the sweeter the success.
7. Assuming the negative is a sure-fire way to be unhappy.
8. Don't assume: if you are unsure about intentions, meanings, ask.
9. It is much easier to get help if you ask for it.
10. Be grateful, inside and out.
11. Breathe deeply.
12. Enjoy people.
13. It takes time for people to believe you have changed, grant them that grace.
14. The neurons that fire together wire together (Dr. Rick Hanson): strive to welcome people, not doubt them (me).
15. Savor the positive, learn from the negative.

I'd love to hear lessons others have learned in their journey!

Hope and Healing

The time between my posts is getting longer because I'm healing.  Although my PTSD triggers may always have some pull on me, I've moved from the survival mode hell of assuming the worst into a more considered life that has the possibility -- trending to the likelihood -- that everyone doesn't hate me and want to embarrass me or hurt me.  On good days, I even manage to appreciate others and enjoy their company without being on edge, waiting for the cruelty. There were two experiences that were key to the progress I've made a news article and a positive role model. 

The Article
 
The news piece was about a new book  Hardwiring Happiness: The New Brain Science of Contentment, Calm, and Confidence.  The article was an interview with the author.  The part that touched me  profoundly was a discussion of how our brains evolved to focus on the negative for purposes of survival.  Our ancestors HAD to focus on the negative because identifying threats -- predators, hazards, etc. -- and reacting to them was critical to survival.  While food, shelter, and procreating were essential in the long term, there was always tomorrow for those things.  If they missed a threat, there might not be a tomorrow.

While this may seem obvious to you, it touched me deeply.  My PTSD had simply amped up the volume on a tendency that came naturally.  EVERYONE has a tendency to do this, it was just that my instincts were in overdrive.  Somehow, that gave me peace: it wasn't my fault; everyone dealt with this to a lesser degree.  I was finally able to let myself off the hook a bit more.  There was a part of me that was blaming myself that just let go of the blame.

The Role Model

The second experience was meeting a person who seems to view every encounter with others as a treat.  The person seems SO GLAD to see each person and genuinely interested in the person in front of them.  I saw how people reacted to that welcome, coupled it with the article and it was revelatory: people felt SAFE.  There was nothing to get their instincts riled up.  They relaxed, opened up, and enjoyed their interaction.

This experience made me realize that my hyper-vigilence wasn't just exhausting for me, but also for those around me.  How much more pleasant life is when you truly enjoy those around you. 

Life is SO much better enjoying those around you.

Painful Truths and Avoidance

In some ways, PTSD can be like the blister that never goes away, always getting rubbed raw just as it was about to heal.  That's the bad news.  The good news is that I see things I wouldn't have seen before because I was too much into protect-myself-and-survive mode.  Slowly "new" truths begin to emerge from the depths, helping me to understand some of the reasons I do the things I do.  These truths are often like layers of an onion; you come across them again and again but on deeper levels.  When the truths first bubble up, they are raw, bringing fresh tears.  Tears outside of movies are rare for me, so I know I've touched something deep when I makes me cry.

I'm a bit of a recluse at times and now realize I withdraw to protect myself.  The painful truth I realized this past week was a new facet of my seclusion: I don't reach out to others because folk rarely reach out to me.  No one in my family has called me in almost a year.  To be fair, I haven't called them either but it leaves me feeling sort of alone in the world.  I've got God, but sometimes you just need a shoulder to cry on or a friend with whom to laugh.

How I came to realize this was interesting.  I was talking to my therapist about how I had a hard time finding a way to help a friend going through a rough patch.  We talked about different ways and one of the things I realized was that I could send her a card.  I wondered why I hadn't thought of that before; I know she loves cards. 

Then I realized why:  I don't reach out just because I fear rejection but because it reminds me how seldom others reach out to me.  While I do enjoy being alone, there are many times that I'm lonely and I rarely do anything about it.

So I've resolved to at least try to send those I love little cards from time to time and not expect anything in return.  It is okay to give and it not be returned.  I can be okay with that now.

Bricks and Balloons

I find that looking at the same thing from a different perspective can help deepen my understanding, whatever the topic might be.  This is especially useful with PTSD since the condition can cause you to miss certain aspects and exaggerate others.  A favorite set of questions returned to me recently:

1. What are the bricks I'm weighing me down? Bricks are things that impede growth/progress, making both more difficult.


• Hidden compulsions of PTSD:  I catch myself doing/saying/thinking something inappropriate because of past events that have nothing substantive to do with today, other than the fact that my limbic system thinks they do.
• Truths that I'm hiding: Things that are uncomfortable to see.
• Lies that I'm telling myself: The window dressing I put up to hide the truths.
• Inertia/Resistance: There is a part of me that doesn't want to change.


2. What are the balloons that are lifting me up? Balloons are the things that improve the likelihood of change/growth and are often catalysts or comforts along the way.


• Knowing it isn't my fault.  While I still struggle with self-recrimination for things, I no longer blame myself for not being able to "get over" what happened to me as a child.
• The ability to see what I'm doing.  The puppeteer is no longer invisible. It is known and a known enemy can be defeated.


3. How has this changed? This has three components: timeframe, what changed, and the impact of the change.


•  A year ago, I was just beginning to realize that something was wrong and get a glimpse that it might not be my fault.
• Now I am getting help and at least see what I'm doing wrong, even if I can't always do what is right.
• There is hope for the future.  Having made some steps forward, I've courage to keep trying.