Alexis Rose's Blog, page 23
February 5, 2018
Isolation
This very new blogger is a friend of mine with an incredible story. She is truly an inspiration. Check out her blog and give her a follow.
I love my job. I often say I have the best job in the world and I believe I do. I am an adult foster care provider. I have two adults who live with me. They have cognitive impairments. I have been an adult provider for 31 years. I am grateful every day to have a job I love, that I get to share my life with these wonderful individuals and that I am paid a livable wage.
I started doing foster care when I was single. I stopped after four years. I got married. When I became pregnant I had an opportunity to do foster care with someone I knew and so I started again when my oldest was two months old. It was a way I could stay home and be with my child. I had another baby and was thrilled that I could stay home with them…
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You Don’t Look Sick, Can’t You Get Over It?
Many of us deal with an invisible illness (physical, emotional, mental), and/but we don’t look sick!
Typically, if we are out and about and even within our own family, if we see or know someone that looks outwardly ill or has a visible disability, hopefully we feel compassion, give them space, and help them, usually without thought or frustration.
Sometimes, out of pure surprise, when people find out I have PTSD, they say, “You don’t look sick.” I don’t take offense to it because it’s a natural thought. It’s not coming from a place of dismissal, or maliciousness. But, I do take offense when the next words of “Can’t you just get over it?” are said aloud.
I don’t know why, but there is something about those six little words that rub me wrong. I had a doctor say to me once, “You look fine. You survived. Can’t you just get over it?” Strange, coming from a physician’s mouth, and I’m smart enough to never go back to that person again. But, whoa, that stopped me in my tracks. I looked at her, and said, “Did you really just say that?”
When I’m triggered, I don’t freak out and run through the streets ranting, raving and screaming; but I do get out-of-sorts, can become kind of spacey, decisions become impossible and I’m sure I look shut-down and unhappy. Or, there are times I look shut-down and have that ridiculous, I’m okay smile plastered sweetly on my face.
When I’m out with friends it usually not a problem because they are aware of me and know my “tells,” but if I’m with people who don’t really know me, it can become uncomfortable for them. I don’t like feeling like the elephant in the room, so I will try to talk about it.
I recently had breakfast with my good friend. We have known each other for years. We were talking about how after my recent travel experience, I realized that my family and friends have created a “new normal” for me because of my many deficits. When someone wants to hang-out, they tend to say that they will pick me up. When we go to restaurants, we tend to go to the same place, so I don’t get overwhelmed with menu choices.
My boss will end a meeting if she sees my concentration waning. A 2-hour scheduled meeting may end after 15 minutes. My breakfast buddy was nodding her head in understanding because she has had two knee replacements in the past year and has had to make changes in her life because of physical challenges. We were getting ready to leave, and wincing, my friend said her body was sore from the weather changing. My tongue-in-cheek response, was, “Really, you don’t look sick!” We laughed and laughed because that’s how easy the thought and words can form when we don’t see someone’s challenges.
For many of us who have survived trauma (I expect it may be the same for people who have a chronic physical illness), we can be the master of minimizing our experiences, with our own tired, worn out mantra of, “I survived it, so what’s the big deal.”
I know I have questioned ad-nauseum to myself and my therapist, why can’t I just get over it? It’s tired and worn out because why would I just get over it? And if I could, I would have chosen that a long time ago. I wouldn’t ever expect someone else to just be okay, would I? No, absolutely not. A person feels the way they feel until they have processed and passed through all the transitions of healing. And if there are multiple events, it will take that much longer.
I can’t even imagine the depths of grief that still lingers inside of me. Part of the grief is sadness for the life I know I was never destined to have because my decisions were pre-determined for me for so many years. But, despite that, I chose to make a good life from my lied to, tattered soul.
Part of the grief is sadness for the life I had for the first 20 years, and for the pain, the suffering, and the squashing of my potential. But I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished despite what happened to me.
So, when others say to me, “Why can’t you just get over it? You survived and have a good life with a great family and lots of great friends and support.” I say, “Yes, I did survive because I stuffed all the feelings, emotions, abuse, terror and pain down as deep as they could go.”
The plan was never to resurrect any feeling or memory, but PTSD doesn’t work that way. I know I don’t look sick, and I probably will never get over it, but I have learned to live with PTSD.
Thankfully, I did survive, but just surviving doesn’t suit me any longer; living and thriving is my gold-standard now.
(Excerpt from the Book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels)
February 3, 2018
Welcome to Minnesota: A Primer – Surly Brewing Co.
I live in MN and the world had descended upon us for the Superbowl this weekend. There have been a lot of great things to do in Minneapolis this week, including zip-lining across the river in 8 degrees above zero. Brrr!
We are a special breed here in the frozen north, so one of the breweries kindly wrote a pretty hilarious primer for those visiting MN on this cold snowy weekend. Yep, we talk about the weather around here!
Check out the link for a smile: Welcome to Minnesota: A Primer – Surly Brewing Co.
February 2, 2018
Our Life Cheerleaders
“You’re a hard stick.” I hear those words each time I have blood drawn. The other day, after four sticks, for five tubes of blood, and a very upset phlebotomist, I found myself cheering her on, telling her she can do it, she’ll have a great day once she’s found a vein, all you need is confidence. I was determined to have her shake it off and find a vein because she was the only one working. She couldn’t pass me on to a co-worker and I was not going to come back another day, to hear the same words, “You’re a hard stick.” That’s the kind of stress I prefer to only have once a year if possible, not two days in a row. She finally found a blood-giving vein and off I went, hoping to never lay eyes on her again!
I love the term corner coach. I used it with my kids growing up. When they were nervous about a test, activity, any kind of fear before the unknown, I would encourage them, telling them, “I’ve got you, I’m in your corner.” It was easy to be there for my kids that way. But I haven’t asked for a cheerleader, corner coach in my own life until recently.
I whole-heartedly believe that learning to live with a chronic illness takes support. Support can come in many forms. It can be family, friends, pets, therapists, a supportive blogging community, whatever feels safe and supportive. Making changes, transformations, living with an illness, healing from trauma is a lonely journey, but as I’ve said many, many times it doesn’t have to be an alone journey.
I work very hard to accept that I’m living with an illness, I’m living with PTSD. It doesn’t define me, but it is part of what I cope with on a daily basis. With this acceptance comes doubt, nervousness, sometimes feeling defeat and extreme exhaustion. There are times when I just want to sit down in the middle of the ring, have the referee give me an 8-count and quit the fight. That’s when I need a corner coach.
There were many times, when I looked at my therapist and said, “I just need you to be my corner coach right now.” He got it and said all the correct: I’m proud of you, you can do it, you’re doing great, you’re kicking-ass kind of things. With that kind of support, I’m was to able to stand up and can get back into the ring of life again.
Now there are times when I say to my friends, I need you to cheer me on right now. It was easier to trust my therapist and ask him to do that. It’s been a steep learning curve to ask for that from my friends and family. I always had that role. The cheery, happy, you can do it, I’m right there beside you role.
I’m continuing to learn that I have to ask my friends and family for that kind of support. To infuse confidence, to see me, hear me, rest with me, hold my hand, go out and play a bit. And how have they responded? They are right there! Coaching, cheering, holding my hand, and pushing me to have the confidence I need to continue on whatever path I’m on at that moment in time.
At times, I’m exhausted from living with this complex-PTSD. But I know that each day I grow stronger. My determination to recognize the times of contentment and peace increase all the time. One of the reasons I’m stronger is because I know I need to have a support system of coaches and cheerleaders. In my life that includes: family, friends, my pets, and a supportive blogging community. It’s been a lesson in vulnerability to cultivate, but, for me, it has helped me grow and heal.
Do you have people or animals in your life who will get you back in the ring? To sit beside you, rest with you, letting you know that you’re okay?
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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.
January 31, 2018
Enter the Garden
Enter the garden
which grew out of friendship
trust, and tender care.
The delicate petals hold our secrets
gently and safely urging
us to let go, grow, and breathe
the colors of peace.
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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.
January 29, 2018
Two Roses
Two roses stand strong
within their protective thorns.
Entwined by years of friendship
they share secrets, thoughts, laughter, and tears.
They sway with the whispering breeze
as they bloom and grow.
Mesmerizing all with the wisdom
of their ageless beauty.
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©Alexis Rose; image: pexels.com
Thank You for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.
January 27, 2018
Now in Paperback; Thank You for the 5-Star Reviews
If I Could Tell You How It Feels, is now available in both paperback and ebook formats. I’m filled with gratitude that the book has caught on so quickly. In a week’s time, we already have some 5-star reviews that I wanted to share. Thank-You so much for reading and giving such wonderful reviews!
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5.0 out of 5 stars A Thoughtful and Authentic Glimpse into Living with PTSD
With incredible insight and eloquence, Alexis Rose helped me see more clearly the intricacies of living with PTSD. Her thoughtful and authentic descriptions of the challenges in her daily life gave me a glimpse into the complexity of this disease that affects so many people around me right now. I appreciate the beautiful artwork that compliments many of her short essays – and how it adds another dimension to her important messages. Alexis Rose has certainly found her voice – and this book is bound to help many others find their voice as well. A great resource – Bravo!
5.0 out of 5 stars A beautiful book that is filled with writings
A beautiful book that is filled with writings, poems, and pictures/images that describe the author’s experiences with language that is so descriptive you can often not only understand, but also get an idea of what it can really feel like to face some of the challenges of PTSD. It is a fast read, that you can do from front to back, or in snippets when you are needing something uplifting and hopeful. It is a book I will definitely buy a paper copy of in order to be able to have it on hand and within easy reach so I can pick it up when I am needing a little pick me up myself.
5.0 out of 5 starsExcellent summary of persistence and brave, giant efforts to live beyond survival mode after long term trauma. This will be a wonderful therapeutic book for so many people who are going on their own journeys of healing.I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who has suffered trauma and is in need of support while taking steps toward their own journey of healing.
Thank you for reading, If I Could Tell You How It Feels, my life journey with PTSD
January 25, 2018
Listen to the whispers, before they become screams
I have become this oddly worried person the last few months. My children and my husband have all gone through tremendous life changes since November. Some exciting and joyous, some scary and devastating. As with all crises and life-changes, things eventually even out. We begin to operate on a new normal, and what was once scary and heartbreaking morphs into something that may be better. We know for sure that everything is impermanent and things change constantly. But when the changes happened in a matter of six weeks, it was easy to let the day-to-day worry seep in and take over.
I suddenly became that person who worried her hands, was anxious all the time, wondering if the snow would be too much, or if my husbands cold was something more, or if the kids would find happiness if they felt stressed for an hour. I was catastrophizing everything and it felt terrible.
I could tell it felt terrible, by how my chest was constricted, I felt on the verge of panic attacks, obsessively cleaning my house, and worrying, worrying, worrying all day long. I couldn’t stand to be inside my body. I was becoming a person that I didn’t want to be or live with, and my self-esteem was tumbling. Something had to change!
Late last Fall, I knew I needed to find a new therapist. I had been “graduated” from therapy for about 8 months but I felt I needed someone to help me continue to learn to live with my PTSD symptoms. Even using all the tools in my toolbox, I found myself still fighting them and being angry at them every day. After a long search, I found a new therapist and had my first appointment in January.
Last week during our session, I told her how I had become this worried, anxious person who felt terrible in my mind and body. I had an understanding where it was coming from, and I knew why it was happening. I didn’t need that kind of insight. What I needed was to learn how to put things in perspective so I could begin to feel better, and to stop any downward spiral into crisis.
After I described how I felt physically, emotionally, and my thought patterns, she taught me this: Listen to the whispers in your body. (the fatigue, the need for rest, the need for peace and quiet, the way the body wants to exercise (does it need yoga or aerobics). She explained that my body and mind were whispering to me. If I could stop, and listen to those whispers, then my body, and mind won’t have to begin to scream at me. Screaming at me may manifest into crisis.
I stopped and aptly listened as she was teaching me this technique. It sounds so easy, and of course, we hear (and I say to others) just stop, don’t forget to breathe and rest. But when it comes to myself, those are often just words. There was something about the lesson of listening to the whispers that make sense to me and felt doable.
With that lesson learned, I have been practising listening to the whispers of my body and mind and trying to hear and honor what they are saying. I’m not perfect at it, I’m still trying to metabolize what that really means for me. But, I’m going to use it as a daily practice. I hope a lifelong practice.
Do you listen to the whispers in your body and mind before they become screams?
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Thank You for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels. Available in both Kindle and paperback.
January 23, 2018
Always in our Hearts
As the rain gently falls
we remember those who are
with us in our hearts.
They will always be a part of us.
With a silent prayer, we honor
their heart, their soul, their essence
by tending to the flowers in the earth.
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©Alexis Rose, image source: Pixabay
Thank You for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels
January 22, 2018
As the Season Changes
As the season’s change
I think of those hands that courted me with flowers
put a band on my finger
held our babies
dabbed my tears as we walked through our empty nest
and now hold me close
as we enjoy the twilight and settle in for winter’s embrace.
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©Alexis Rose, Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Thank You for reading my new book, If I Could Tell You How It Feels
