Alexis Rose's Blog, page 20

It’s Okay; You’re Okay!

It’s okay to just be in the moment

of love, acceptance respect, and friendship

It’s okay to let yourself feel

love, acceptance, respect, and friendship

It’s okay to give

love, acceptance, respect, and friendship

You’re okay and worthy

of being heard, being seen, being loved

The squeeze of a friend’s hand

That reassuring knowing

that whatever version of you shows up

it is okay; that you are okay.

Being in the moment

Feeling the love, giving love

It’s okay, you’re okay

And the world shines brighter

Because you are in it!

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©words and photo: Alexis Rose

Thank you for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

Soul-Mates

Two brilliant souls, two hearts

Both young, but wary, cautious, careful

They listen to the call of the crystal clear water

Hearing the song of the oceans deep wisdom

it sings, It’s okay to love, trust

and crave togetherness

Soul-Mates finding that each tomorrow

brings more love than yesterday

Forever entwined in friendship, kindness, respect

Knowing the magic and wonder of mirroring

who they really are…Soul-Mates

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©Alexis Rose; Soul Mates, for Aria and Gabe, image source: Pixabay

 

Silence

Dedicated to all the survivors I’ve met and the ones I’ve yet to meet along the way. For those who have found their voice and those who are still working on finding it. Silence can mean so many things…this is my interpretation of how the silence felt. 

The silence was the worst sometimes.

That moment when an abusive event ends.

The silence is sometimes the most uncomfortable part of being hurt.  It’s a strange feeling to see someone who has just hurt you in ways that are abhorrent just turn around and walk away.

Watching them leave. It felt as if they were also taking a little piece of my spirit with them leaving another tatter, another rip in my already shredded soul.

It wasn’t very often that my abusers would say anything when they are finished.

The feeling of invisibility was palpable.

No yelling, crying, blaming, scolding; they just simply finish and leave. It’s a rather powerless feeling because they don’t acknowledge me, or what they did.

That spirit shredding powerlessness left me with a dark heaviness.

I’m sure sometimes I was crying as they left.  I know I was certainly in enough pain physically, emotionally and psychologically to cry. But often I would just stare at them as they walked away.

Watching them go, I sometimes asked myself, why did that happen to me?

But other times, I silently observed as they moved away from me as if I didn’t exist.

As if what just happened didn’t really happen at all.

Their demeanor towards me was complete neutrality. It was as if I was a stranger who was just in their airspace, detached in a way, that if they saw me on the street in five minutes, they wouldn’t even remember who I was.

There was always that little while, no matter the place, the who, or the when something happened, that the “after” was accompanied by a thick silence.

Alone, with my mind now telling me, “okay, it’s over; stand up, clean up, unconsciously compartmentalize what just happened, and move on to survive whatever comes next.

The silence can be the worst sometimes.

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image source: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

A Wonderful Podcast Interview Experience

I had the wonderful opportunity to be interviewed by Matt Papas of Surviving My Past. (https://www.survivingmypast.net/tools-and-insight-on-living-with-ptsd-with-author-and-survivor-alexis-rose/) I have been listening to Matt’s podcasts for a while, and find his interview style very interactive, relatable, and real.  He has a wonderful way of putting you at ease, and the conversation flows.

Surviving My Past exists to validate and encourage all who have survived the trauma of abuse. Matt is a survivor of Childhood Sexual Abuse, Narcissistic Abuse, and Bullying.

On his site, you will find blog posts written not only by Matt but also guest bloggers who have decided to share their story and let the world know that they are not ashamed! You’ll also find podcasts where he interviews Therapists, Life Coaches, Mental Health Advocates, Bloggers, and others who have a passion to help raise awareness and do their part to help erase the stigma of mental health challenges and survivors of trauma.

Check out his website and when you have some time, I would love it if you listen to my interview with Matt.  You will definitely be able to hear my very Minnesotan accent come through loud and clear.  https://www.survivingmypast.net/tools-and-insight-on-living-with-ptsd-with-author-and-survivor-alexis-rose/

 

Thank you for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

 

 

 

Self Doubt: My Unwanted (but invited) House Guest

I was offered (and I accepted) an amazing opportunity to co-facilitate workshops for a wonderful program for trauma survivors beginning this Fall.  After the initial excitement and the happy dance, I felt an old familiar internal nagging, and then my unwanted but invited guest stop by…

A familiar knock on my self-esteem’s door seems to happen when I’m making a big change, taking a risk, sharing my writing, speaking in front of groups, or accepting another layer of learning to live with the limitations of PTSD.

I would like to say that self-doubt comes uninvited to my self-esteem’s house during these transition times, but that wouldn’t be honest. I don’t believe Mr. Doubt (as I call it) would come calling unless it was invited. It may be unwanted, but since it arrived with hat in hand, I ask it to come in for tea and tell me what it thinks of me.

Outwardly, to others, it appears I have no problems learning, growing, changing, taking risks, writing books, writing articles, speaking in front of groups about living with PTSD, and working very, very hard on living with the deficits that plague my mental health. Outwardly, I look strong and determined.

I am strong and determined; But as self-doubt sips its tea and begins to play the old tapes and drones the familiar chants of, “You’re not good enough, not worthy, not well enough, smart enough, you’re a poser,” and lists all the reasons I shouldn’t try or that I should give up, fear and rejection hang in the air between us.

Somedays I listen with respect, compassion, and a loving ear because I know self-doubt doesn’t come uninvited. But, there are other days when I’m tired or triggered and have a lot of symptoms. I can feel the sinister dark-dread begin to blacken and shred the self-esteem I have worked so hard to foster. The grasp of my thinly held mantra, that my inner beauty, strength, and talent, far outweigh any deficits I may have, begins to fade as self-doubt tries to extend tea time into a meal and a nap.

I’ve eventually heard enough, felt enough, and acknowledge that this is a pattern. Self-doubt comes when I’m on a precipice, and I can choose to entertain it longer or thank it for the visit. I can tell it we’re done and show it the door.

As soon as it’s gone, it’s easier to take control of my internal thoughts about myself and how I’m navigating the world around me. I give myself room to breathe, change, grow, share my experiences with others, and emerge from the shadows of the shame of living with PTSD. It’s not comfortable a lot of the time, but that isn’t because I’m the terrible (fill in the old-tapes) person. It is simply because that is where I am at this time in my life.

As this bout of self-doubt fades onto a distant shore, I understand that I may hear this familiar knock on my door again, and if I do I’ll invite it in for a cup of tea and listen with a loving, compassionate ear. Because I know, self-doubt does not come uninvited.

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Excerpt from the book: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, artwork: Janet Rosauer

 

Thank you for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

 

 

Victim Yes, Survivor, Definitely!

vic·tim/ˈviktəm/Noun

A person harmed, injured, or killed as a result of a crime, accident, or other event or action.


A person who is tricked or duped

I don’t like it, but by definition, I was a victim. From the earliest of ages until I was twenty years old, I lived a life of unimaginable abuse, neglect, and terror. For years, I was threatened to stay silent or suffer the consequences. The message was always a simple phone call with a person on the other end saying, “Nothing has changed.”

My therapist worked hard to teach me that one of the nuances of a traumatized person is that they believe that they are somehow to blame for what happened to them. Whether it is the abuser’s message or a way for a person to try and make sense of what has happened to them, it is something that people who have been through trauma have in common.

The word “victim,” can be rather stigmatizing. It’s sometimes bantered about when we talk about someone who won’t or chooses not to change their situation. How many times do we hear someone saying, “she/he’s such a victim.”  It can be confusing, because we don’t want to be a victim by an abuser, and we don’t want to be a victim by not standing up for ourselves. Two very different situations, but still the same word.

I understand I was a victim. I understand how my many perpetrators victimized me. I have let go of the false belief that I had been a willing participant in the events that happened to me.  This knowledge doesn’t take away the facts of what happened or the feelings that go along with what happened, but it does assuage the guilt.

I was programmed (for lack of a better word) to hurt myself should I remember, tell and/or try to heal from all that was done to me. “They” were thorough in ways to protect themselves and make themselves untouchable. I know and accept that I was a victim of extreme and senseless abuse, neglect, and torture.

sur·vi·vor /sərˈvīvər/ noun 

To remain alive or in existence.
To carry on despite hardships or trauma; persevere.
To cope with (a trauma or setback); persevere after: survived child abuse.

However, they could not touch the core of who I am and my innate need to remember and heal. They could not anticipate that I would eventually figure out the more I stayed silent and crouched in terror, that I was only protecting them.

They never realized that I would learn that when I began to talk, I was safer because if I were to suffer the consequences that they had threatened me with, then it would only bring to light that what I was saying was the truth. They could no longer hide in the shadows of my mind and strike.

My perpetrators can write me off as a liar and/or crazy, but that doesn’t have any effect on me. I know my truth, and being called crazy is just sticks and stones.

So yes, I was a victim, Now I am definitely a survivor!

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Excerpt from my new book:  If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

Photo by Matthew Smith on Unsplash

 

 

Morning Mantra

I am one with the movement of nature… I am Peace. 

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©From the collaboration, Of Earth and Sky, Alexis Rose, photographer: Shelley Bauer

Thank you for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

The Crystalline Tree

What will happen to the crystalline tree

that sits under the streetlight?

She is glistening confidence

standing beautifully alone

as the cars drive past

not noticing, not caring, not seeing.

When the ice melts do the fairies that live

in the branches come out of winter’s hibernation?

Is that when the crystalline tree will go to sleep?

Does she rest after months of protecting

her roots, branches and all those who use her

as a place of refuge?

Or does she bloom bright flowers

and release her seeds when the wind blows

across the parking lot

creating a dynasty of crystalline trees that take root across the land?

Do the ice fairies light the night sky as fireflies or

do they find their way to the fairy houses in

the gardens in the city?

As we listen to music, talk and laugh the sounds of friendship

I look out the window and wonder

when the touch of mother nature’s hand melts

her branches winter coat

What will happen to the crystalline tree?

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©Alexis Rose, image source: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

Easing into Spring

The whispers playing off the breeze

entice us to look closer 

at the bouquet of color

rising up  from winter’s cool hands.



We catch our breath

and like  water rushing

around the rocks

we ease into spring.

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©Alexis Rose, image source: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

See Me, Hear Me, I am not my PTSD

The other day, my son checked in with me again to understand the difference between my brain getting overwhelmed when shopping and my brain getting overwhelmed while working. He wanted to know if when shopping,  I recover after a couple hours. He understands that if I push it while working, it can take me out of the game for a whole day. I appreciated he asking me because anything that takes the elephant out of the room is wonderful. But, I also understood that he asked me because I became so overwhelmed at the grocery store when we were shopping together, that he was concerned that my plans would be affected later that day.  I’m grateful for his concern and his honest question because he understands how my life is impacted by my symptoms. I felt both seen and heard.

When I describe myself I don’t use adjectives that describe my illness.  I describe myself as a kind, compassionate, person with a great (sometimes dark) sense of humor who tries to live an authentic life. I have strong friendships and solid family support from my husband and children. That’s how I would define myself. My PTSD doesn’t define me, but it does impact me every day of my life.

The effects of my trauma and the resulting PTSD has changed my life. It prevents me from being able to work,  hopping in the car to run errands, enjoying busy or new restaurants, traveling without a companion. I have to consciously work with the triggers that cause flashbacks, and other assorted symptoms. While that doesn’t define who I am, it does have an effect my life. If you ask me about that, I will tell you.

I’m in a position, as perhaps most people who deal with a chronic or debilitating illness to find a way to live with my symptoms and try to have an illness free identity. It’s hard.  I spent years minimizing my feelings, being angry at my PTSD, thinking that I’m weak; after all, I survived unimaginable circumstances, why can’t I just get over this thing. That thinking wasn’t helping my trajectory of healing and it certainly didn’t honor my past, my feelings, or the fact that I did survive.

While I am not my PTSD, it certainly impacts my life. I am more than my past, more than my trauma, more than my illness. And the truth is that my terrible past includes significant trauma that resulted in an illness. I have found that often when people hear, read, and understand that there are some really awful people in the world, it makes them uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable information, and it should be. We shouldn’t feel comfortable, complacent and unfazed when hearing about abuse. It’s something that can be stopped, abuse is something that is done by one person to another.

To understand what and who we are at our core, our intentions, and how we want to connect with others can define us. We aren’t defined by our circumstances, illness, or professions, but they often dictate how we have to live day-to-day. My illness has been a struggle to accept this in my life. But it has also changed what I’m passionate about. I no longer hide in the shadow of shame and stigma. I choose to speak and write about what it’s like to live with a mental illness. To live with PTSD.  I want to be seen and heard for who I am as a person. I am not my PTSD, but I do live with this mental illness. Ask me about it, I will be glad to tell you what it’s like, the same way I would tell how what it’s like to live with a physical illness.

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image source: pexels

Thank you for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.

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