Alexis Rose's Blog, page 34

Lessons of the Flowers

I take with me the lessons of the flowers. 

I will persevere  and grow

silently displaying my beauty and strength.

I will  reach towards the sun

hold fast during storms

I will live  life  fully in bloom.

 

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©Alexis Rose, image source:pixabay

 

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Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

 

 

A Finished Manuscript

Two years ago today as my fingers were steadily typing out the words flowing from my brain, I stood up, heart beating like a hummingbird, started doing a dance to the tempo of the sound of the keyboard strokes and exclaimed, “I think this is the last paragraph.” My memoir was done. A huge milestone, an incredible accomplishment.

When it was published a few months later (after the grueling editing process) I set a goal to sell a certain number of books in two years. I am 13 books away from that goal. I’m so excited. When the book release anniversary date comes around, I will update you if I made that goal. But this close to reaching that goal on this very special day brings back that wonderful feeling I had when the manuscript was completed.  Thank-You, to all of you who have read Untangled, told your friends/family to read it, and shared it on your blogs. I continue to be humbled and full of gratitude for the incredible support and positive reviews.

Enjoy, the Introduction from Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

My body is streaked with sweat and dirt from my desperate search to find safe shelter. I’m barefoot, in a grimy torn t-shirt and shorts; my hands and feet caked with dirt. My hair is filthy and matted. My mouth is dry; I can smell and taste the gritty dust that hangs in the air. I sit down on a curb at the side of the road, and I know it’s over.

I’m unbelievably weary, all my energy spent in the act of sitting down. I’m devastated…emotionally, mentally, and physically, and the worst of my wounds are invisible. My eyes fill up, but no tears fall. I can only sit amid the rubble, trying to trust the safety of the gray, silent sky.

Six years later, the scene has changed. I’m no longer living in fear of the tangled web of sadistic people who use threats to keep their victims terrified and questioning their sanity. I feel grateful. The therapist that I call my Sherpa is sitting next to me. He’s listened to and witnessed my entire story, and never deserted me. He understands my journey and sometimes shares my grief. He’s helped me honor my resilience; taught me the value of telling my story and the importance of just sitting with my truth. So we sit here together, quietly resting in that truth.

I’ve fully remembered and told the story of my first twenty years, of surviving the abuse, neglect, abandonment, and fear. I’ve left behind those who terrorized me. I’ve untangled myself. My courage has set me free, and now nothing can keep me tied to the past. I can truly live today with blinders off and eyes wide open.

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Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

 

Triggers and Tools

Living with PTSD often means understanding that there are triggers, triggers everywhere. Coping with PTSD often means learning the tools to handle the triggers. 

Before I was diagnosed I had no idea what was wrong with me. I was quirky to my friends and family, but inside I felt out of control and crazy. I could tell that the people I was with didn’t react the same way I did to certain situations, but I couldn’t understand why.

People can sometimes sit down at a restaurant and marvel over the choices on the menu. I become anxious and lose my appetite because the choices are overwhelming. Walks in the woods typically are filled with deep breathing wonderment at the smells and sounds of leaves rustling and crunching. I would cringe and keep looking over my shoulder because the crunching meant someone was running behind me to catch me. 

The sound of distant fireworks is often a sound and a sign of summer festivals and fun. I bristle and remember a time when I heard guns or bombs. The beautiful full moons shining brightly in the sky brings a sense of awe.  I often feel left-over dread and fear for the rituals the solstices brought in a place long ago, but not so far away. 

These are just a few triggers that I have to manage living with PTSD. 

 I used to flounder and drown in the vortex of my symptoms, but now, I have the tools to help me cope. I understand that there are triggers, triggers everywhere and I know the reasons why. Knowing the truth and understanding my past has been a huge help for managing my mental health. 

I understand what flashbacks are, and while they are terribly uncomfortable, I have the tools to cope with the aftermath. I have the tools to work through panic, anxiety, and fear. 

I have a plethora of distress tolerance tools and I have to employ them daily. There are days it feels like my full-time job is consciously finding something to ease the distress, but it is time well spent. 

I understand that going to a restaurant, grocery store, library, or a place with a lot of stimulation, brings some responsibility on my part. Perhaps I can look at the menu online and find something to eat before we get there. I may need to put a book on reserve and pick it up vs. wandering the shelves of the library and becoming overwhelmed by the choices. I have to communicate before my anxiety ramps up,  but I also need to remember and acknowledge if all is well, giving myself a mental pat-on-the-back. 

One of the tools that I’m appreciating the most right now, is that I’ve learned to enjoy the moments when I’m not symptomatic. I’m still hyper-vigilant and my startle response is off the hook sometimes, but I’m not necessarily waiting, or looking for someone or something to happen, and I can calm myself a lot quicker with my learned tools. 

Reminding myself I’m safe, understanding that my intense symptoms caused by triggers are time limited and that I’m okay helps me live with PTSD. The tools help me cope and accept PTSD and all the symptoms that come with it. 

Some day it’s still a tricky dance and I find myself stunned by the experience. I feel clumsy and inept, but with continued practice Im hoping for a symbiotic relationship between triggers, triggers everywhere and the tools to calm and soothe. 

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image source: pixabay

Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

 

Secrets of 1,000 Lifetimes

The secrets of 1,000 lifetimes

lay within those deep dark eyes.

When she sits upon the water, she shares her burden

with the ancient ears of the seas.

Breathing in, she closes her eyes

feels the crest of the wave wash over her.

She is at Peace.

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©words and photo: Alexis Rose

 

 

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Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

 

I’m not flying solo

It may look as if I’m flying solo

but I’m remembering to lean

into the wind, find comfort

in the safety of the clouds and soar

into the shadow light of the sky. [image error]

 

©Of Earth and Sky: collaboration; Alexis Rose, Photographer: Shelley Bauer

Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

 

The Mirrors in our Life

This past year has been a time of change. Some of it wonderful, healing, inspirational. Some of it sad, disappointing, shocking, leaving me stunned. That’s the beauty of understanding impermanence. Things change, everything changes and we change with it. Sometimes it’s been easy to let go of things, with a nod to the experience, other times it takes me months to process, understand, and accept. Sometimes the changes have been quite personal, other times on a national or global level.

The most valuable lesson I’ve learned the past year is to acknowledge the mirrors in my life. Sometimes these mirrors were the ones that ripped the mask off and exposed the person I didn’t want to be. Discontented, bitchy, clinging to things that no longer serve me, or trying to please people who try to control me, leaving me feeling less worthy. The other mirrors, the ones I gravitate towards the most are the ones who reflect back who I want to be, who I am without any masks. The person I have been working hard to become, losing the shame, the perfection, letting go of the control and coming from a place of love and altruism. Both of these mirrors have been important in my life.

Another most important mirror I need in my life is the mirror that reflects my struggle with healing from trauma.  Sometimes the loneliness and pain from managing my PTSD symptoms feel unbearable. I ask myself what am I doing and why? I have to watch that I don’t go down the slippery slope of denial and convince myself, that my life was easy when I had my memories repressed. I was living an inauthentic and never allowing myself to be vulnerable life. It was awful, I was miserable on the inside. The only thing a mirror reflected back at that time was fear, shame, terror, and a vague sense of invisibility.

Now that I live more authenticly and allow myself to be vulnerable, I’m happier with the kinds of relationships I have in my life. I no longer surround myself with people who want me to act a certain way, act accordingly, hide any emotion except happiness.  I have kept some wonderful stood-the-test-of time relationships and formed new ones who are my mirrors, and I am theirs. It’s reciprocal and that brings a feeling of contentedness.

Some days, its still a lot easier for me to be someone’s mirror, then to accept the goodness that they reflect back to me. But I’m working on it.

When I get down, and the exhaustion of healing begins to get the best of me, I stop and acknowledge the wonderful mirrors in my life.

When I need reassurance on those really, really bad moments, I ask,  “What am I doing?” and hear mirrored back to me, “Healing.”

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Image source: pixabay

 

 

Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

Reflections

Reflections of those we love

shimmer upon the water

bringing comfort and strength

even as they soar beyond this moment.

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photo: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

If I Could Tell You How It Feels…

From shattered oblivion, I crawled back from the depths of despair. Never knowing and always terrified that PTSD would be my demise.

It’s bullying way of hurling me from present to the past often left me winded and frightened. Triggers still happen, I’m still winded, but now I understand the fear and patiently, uncomfortably wait it out. Knowing, it will pass; symptoms are time-limited.

The loneliness on the journey of remembering, processing, and feeling has been eased by forcing myself to sit with the truth, which brought acceptance. It’s not an easy truth, but it’s mine. It’s my life, my past. I understand what happened.

Most days, the grief for a life interrupted is replaced by the solace of knowing the who, what, when and how. For me, it feels better to have a congruent timeline for my first 20 years. To no longer live under a “cover-story,” because of threats and fear.

Still practicing the independence of using all my tools to cope with the effects of my trauma. Sometimes feeling like a stranger with no purpose other than to heal. But then remembering that my purpose through this healing process was to live, so I can live, not just survive.

From shattered oblivion, I broke free from the choke-hold of silence. My open traumatic, psychological wounds are scarred over and I’m standing on firmer ground.

If I could tell you how it feels…I would say, today I’m letting myself feel triumphant!

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Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

 

The Pain in Someone Else’s Eyes

They look so serene sitting straight, hands slightly clenched, gently laying in their lap.

The cadence of their voice is slow, even, steady, and clear.

The conversation flows.

But, if you look into their eyes, the pain of hidden burdens echoes from the windows of their soul.

You lock in, trying to console the dark, deep pain that oozes quietly, insidiously trying to erode their dreams of tomorrow.

Giving comfort with a nod, a smile, and mirroring a silent acceptance of who they are.

Reassuring them that, they are seen, and as time passes, it will be okay. Seeing and respectfully acknowledging the pain in someone else’s eyes.

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Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

Hope is…

Hope is the involuntary breaths I take to live. 

It’s always there as I encounter obstacles in my path.

With hope, I can conquer mountains.

I know it may be hard, sometimes 

emotionally, and physically painful, but I can do it.

With hope, I can change and become who I want to be. 

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image of hands: pixabay

[image error]Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph

http://www.amazon.com/Untangled-story-resilience-courage-triumph/dp/1514213222

https://www.amazon.com/Untangled-story-resilience-courage-triumph-ebook/dp/B013XA4856