Don't you hate those words and even more, the thoughts behind them, and even more, the feelings they bring up? My subconscious is so finely tuned that just hearing someone say those words can start my heart rate accelerating. When someone says to me "I am so stressed out.", I feel it. I can get the fear thing going just hearing certain music on movie sound tracks. I can have my eyes shut and feel the tension right down to the center of my gut.
Mostly, I have worked out ways to deal with this. Sometimes, such as during the worst of my dental ordeal last year, I had to call on a higher power, Ativan. But, mostly the older more conservative Higher Powers work out fine. Breathing deeply, counting breaths, meditation, prayer - - old friends which are tried and true.
But the mind, which I celebrate fully, can be my worst enemy. "What if?" Such an innocent opening for what can come after. The thing I have practiced over many years is fulling my head with something else before the fear, stress, anxiety thoughts can get a grip. Often I feel the bad thoughts coming before the thoughts form in my head. I get a tightening around my heart. Then, if I am alert, I can start a mantra or a distraction fast.
The situation in which this doesn't work is with Post Traumatic Stress, at least in its early, just emerging stages. One has to learn when the attack is coming and be prepared to combat it with everything you've got.
This is a dumb example, but also one not very heavily charged for me any more: When I had my kids at home and at college and I was earning $25,000 a year as a Waldorf School teacher, I could never keep up with the bills. I did a bunch of part time jobs as well as being a single parent, teaching full time, having a few refugee kids in my care. I did free lance editing in the wee hours of the morning. I took care of an old man a few times a week, basically, I did anything I could find to do. The bills had no notion or care for this. We spent several Christmases with the electric off. We ordered food wholesale from the health food distributor, we bought all our clothes at the $1 a bag second hand store.
Still, I got to the point at which I only opened the mail on the day after I got paid. I had a box under the mail slot. What was the point? With no health insurance for any of us, I got the Barefoot Doctor Book and we home treated almost everything. None of this was bad compared to people who have no jobs or no education or no health or no homes. I get that. What is bad is that I still get a headache when I pay bills. My hands still shake when I get a letter from the IRS. I still try never to go to the doctor because I can't figure out what Medicare will pay for.
Such a little and stupid thing and it still haunts me. I now understand the people who went through the Great Depression and ever after couldn't throw away an elastic band, or a piece of string, or an old pair of mittens. "It might come in handy some day."
And I have huge sympathy, HUGE, for people who have real Post Traumatic Stress from life altering events. They must have to work so hard to keep their minds from spinning out and their adrenalin from flipping its shit. I can't even imagine the inner work they have to do. But I can figure out that facing stuff in daylight brings the first whiff of healing. I open most of my mail now when it comes, but I still feel all wrung out after doing simple business stuff.
I hear you. A wise person once told me to recognize that old feelings and responses can't re harm me, that old thoughts are just old habits trying to hang on and the only way to de energize the reaction is to focus, recognize and shake them off. Otherwise, nothing changes. Ever. Thanks.
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