There will never be a book


Writing (Photo credit: jjpacres)

I love to write.

Although I do not have enough time, and sometimes I lack ideas. I love to see the words form, and sentences get meaning. Writing this blog has been so important for me. The issues that I managed to put into words, all those difficult things that I never could talk about. I wrote. I could hardly look at comments and “likes”; it made me really nervous. In retrospect, writing helped me to make all the dangerous stuff less dangerous. I found that I could think about it without ending in hopeless flashbacks. It was never good, to write, as in “getting it off my chest”. But I think that by writing, I got to use something not so closely connected to feelings, I had to be specific and clear, to the point. Set all feelings aside for a while, though my hands were shaking, and I cried sometimes. I had to plan, to decide what to write about as I sat down to do it.

‘You should write a book’, my therapist said.

Maybe I will someday. But not about this, not about, PTSD, child abuse, insomnia, flashbacks. Me, as a child, can rest now, I think. I feel ok about it all, I never would have guessed that last spring, before I started this blog. 🙂

You are all an inspiration. Thanks 🙂

No, not good, not at all…

sternocleidomastoideus muscle

sternocleidomastoideus muscle (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The nerves of the scalp, face, and side of neck.

The nerves of the scalp, face, and side of neck. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

An MR machine is not like on “House”, where the patient has lots of space, light, and seems to have a good time. It’s NOT! I think today, that my nose was two centimetres from the ceiling of that very noisy machine. I did have the alarm thing in my hand, but the thought of not doing this now, and use months thinking about doing it again, kept me from pushing the button. My neck was locked in a bracelet, and I had bell shaped hearing protection over my ears.
I cried a bit.
Then I had to do x-ray.
I cried driving home as well.

Earlier today, I went to physiotherapy. He (the gorgeous looking one) is not as optimistic as he was after the first sessions. Most of last week went by trying to ignore pain and headache. Think I succeeded, in a way, but it makes me so tired.
Instead of beating up all those sore points where the muscles and the nerves are attached at the back of my scull, he worked on all muscles around the clavicle and the sternocleidomastoid muscle. This is one of the most important muscles in the neck, sort of goes from the clavicle to the ear. Apparently mine is extremely tense and strung up, he had problems trying to get hold of it at all. I was in so much pain I had to get his hands off me a couple of times.
I don’t really like to be touched, I think. He worked so close to my throat, that I found myself trying to avoid it, and him, by clutching my legs to the bench, and sliding my upper body to the side. Hanging on by my feet and some stomach muscles I didn’t know I had. Tears streaming, and my top was wet all through from cold sweat.
Right now I wonder if there is something wrong in the upper part of my vertebrae too. I, and the doctors and therapists have considered all of this to be consequences of a whiplash after the unfortunate crash between my head and a brick wall while cycling. (USE BIKE HELMETS, I did!!) My current diagnosis is cervical headache, and it is only on the left side. Now I am not sure. There is something wrong with my C1 nerve, for sure, but all these f***ed up muscles too? My physiotherapist says that time has made it all this painful. Right now, it feels like my left side has been hit by a bus, it aches in my arm, shoulder, all muscles around my clavicle, my neck feels swollen. To top it up, my headache is out of this world.
I think I’ll allow myself one tiny little depression tonight, grab some painkillers and go to bed.



Dreaming (Photo credit: Sean MacEntee)

I have had so many strange dreams lately, which is quite unusual for me. I hope it means that my sleeping pattern is changing, after cutting back on sleeping meds. I don’t really believe that dreams are all that important, or that there is a meaning to all of these strange things that gets into my head while I am sleeping. That would make life VERY complicated. 🙂
My dreams tend to be quite chaotic, and sometimes I wake up, just knowing that I dreamt something upsetting, without remembering what it was. I haven’t had any flashbacks or flashback-“dreams” for weeks and the last ones hasn’t been all that disturbing.

I think my sub-conscience is trying to figure out something. It’s been about a car accident that happened when I was a child. I don’t know exactly where it was. I just remember the car going off the road, and downhill very fast. There is a wood, many trees, and it is quite bumpy. This was long before there were seat belts, and I am on the floor between the front and back seat. My mother is driving. My brother is also in the car. I’m afraid, of course. That’s all that I remember. I tried once to ask my brother what had happened, but he won’t talk about it. Even if I asked him quite late, after he had a few beers… He said that we spent the night in a house next to where it happened. I don’t remember any of that. I don’t know if anyone got hurt, maybe I remember some pain in my head. But I’m not sure. Other than this, my flashbacks seem to have taken a break, it seems. I hope they are gone for good 🙂

But just this other night, I dreamt, we were running a petrol station, some of my friends, my youngest daughter, one work colleague and me. It was really very busy, and everything that could go wrong did. We ran out of diesel, people stole chocolate from the store, many were mad because they couldn’t fill up their cars, the queue of angry customers went all the way through the front door. We didn’t handle the situation very well. It was like when you have four people in the kitchen trying to do the same thing at the same time. When it finally calmed down, we went to sleep on the floor. It was like NOW I am going to sleep for SO long! I was just so tired, after working for days. And as I came to that conclusion and kind of felt the sleep coming, the alarm on my iPhone set off. I woke up angry…
Didn’t last for long though.

How to communicate the content of feelings that has no language?

English: Band-Aid logo designed by Dresser Joh...

Got one for my flashback anyone?(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If I get burnt on the kitchen stove, I’d go “ouch”. Or some four letter word. Some years back, I wouldn’t, I’d just be silent. My husband is always VERY frustrated when I accidently hurt myself, because I go absolutely quiet. I can’t speak. It is as if all the feelings are going inwards. And he stands there looking at me, without knowing what on earth happened. Where does it hurt? What happened? How?
If I cut myself chopping veggies, he’d see me bleeding, those are the easy ones. But if I get my finger in a squeeze or something else that doesn’t show, I can’t speak. When in pain, I go silent. Whatever kind of pain.

In therapy, this is sort of stupid. How many wants to go to therapy, and talk and talk your guts out? Raise hands please…

Me too. But as soon as it starts to hurt, I go silent.

Am I shy?
It’s not like I can’t talk, in any other situation. I know the words. I talk to lots of people all the time, in several languages, and I am never lost for words. Except in therapy.

Am I embarrassed?
After so long trying in therapy, she knows my story. No, I don’t think I am embarrassed. Nothing was my fault. And I don’t think I have a problem with self-esteem either.

Maybe. Sometimes, after the worse flashback-situations, I feel like I am floating around, and need to pinch myself to stay afloat, to stay in the room. Not just float away into those strange fragments of memories. Yes… sometimes scared.

Otherwise talkative and blabbering, when in contact with those flashbacks, language disappears. I sometimes think of them as sets of images, passing in 800 km/hour, round and round inside my head. They blend in a mixture of other impressions, sound, pain, smell. They stay for a while. I can’t breathe.

It’s not like I think there are things left to explore. The whole picture is not that difficult to figure out. The flashbacks haven’t changed much this last year (or something). And they don’t appear as frequently as before, which is very good.

I’d like to figure out the lack of language, the feelings that are not verbal. Why is it like that? (And it is NOT that I don’t want to).

I would like the flashbacks to go away and never haunt me again. In a mindful-kind of way, I’d like to breathe through them. I think that will happen sometime. But I don’t think they will ever have a language.

Anyone can help me here?

Fragment (consider revising)

English: Vector graphic of a jigsaw puzzle out...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I once went to this job interview. It was like a questioning about my life, chronological. They were three, I was nervous. I never got the job, of course, and I can’t remember if they actually got to hire anyone. The technique was weird. Maybe they were just as nervous as me.

Life is never chronological. If someone asks me how I feel, or if I had a good vacation, I answer without having to make sure they know all about what has happened ever, until the moment of their question. I don’t pass my Curriculum Vitae around if I go places where I might meet people that want to talk to me.

Nobody does.

The things we tell each other, are all fragments. If you met me, you’d put together fragments, the way I talk, what I say, how I look, my body language, my crazy hair, and you’d put together a picture. I always think I am not “giving away” too much. At least when I am in professional settings.
I am probably wrong.

Feelings are just like that too. This morning I had trouble getting out of bed. (This head/neck-thing). I must have gone through at least one hundred different feelings or imaginations before I actually got out of bed. I woke up at 5:45. And it went like this:

No, I need more sleep (set the alarm on my iPhone to 8:00)
I don’t want to feel this pain again, I am so dizzy
I’ll text my boss, say I’m not coming in
I am sad, I am aware that I feel sad
Yesterday’s blue mood…
No, this is not going to be my feelings today, I need a good day!
I need more sleep, I can sleep for three more hours for f***’s sake!
The wind through the window feels good as it strikes my chin; it’s so calm and quiet outside.
Just breathe…
A seagull, a sheep
Breathe (damnit)

It just goes on like this, I think, for all of us. Sometimes it rushes through at very high speed, sometimes I get to contemplate and concentrate (luckily), and often the impressions are without words. And somehow, the mind is able to put it all together into something sensible. I love it when I manage to find calmness, it eases the constant pressure of things going on. Sometimes during meditation, this happens, and it feels just good. The opposite are my horrifying flashbacks with high speed, fragments, no language.

I got up, and was at work at about 7. BTW grammar check in Word “Fragment (consider revising)” is also a fragment…