Alexis Rose's Blog, page 44

When do You Listen to the Truth

The truth is a terrible wonderful thing.

Once you know it, can you deny it?

 So many times I have denied the truth.

The truth about my past, my life, of who I am.

When do you listen to the truth?

When do you listen to your gut?

When do you listen to that voice that tells you

that even though things will be hard

and the unknown is terrifying

the benefit in the long run 

is peace of mind, peace in your soul, rest for your body.

When do you listen to your truth? 

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

Listen to the Silence

Become still and listen to the silence.

Your mind clears, breath become deeper

your body is almost light and floating

while still feeling the earth under your feet.

The sound of peace.

 

©Alexis Rose, photo: Shelley Bauer

 

 

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

Giving Thanks For…

Giving thanks for

breathing deep, feeling love

smiling at the innocence of a child

and appreciating the people

in our  lives who bring

peace, hope, and love to our world.

 

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

Ashes to Freedom

One year ago, I unpacked the final box of secrets hidden deep in my mind. They were secrets, that weren’t necessarily repressed, they just were going to sit in storage, never to see the light of day. I had a choice to make; call the work of processing memories done, or tell my therapist and unpack the final details of my past.  I worked hard to get to where I was, and I felt I owed it to myself to go all the way. So I revealed the last puzzle piece. It had no real impact on my therapist because he had figured it out a long time ago, but for me, it put together the big picture. The who, why, and the extent to which people went to control those first 20 years of my life, topping it off with an additional 17 years of threats to stay silent. This last secret was by far one of the hardest things to reveal, and then begin to process what it all meant.

Once it began to metabolize a little bit, I noticed I began to think differently. I believe it made room for my mind to discern the bigger picture. It was frightening to realize the extent, the sinister intentionality of what went on with my life. The more I began to think about it logically, I understood the even bigger picture of my past. Even with the intense disbelief, belief, grief, fear, and deep sadness,  my mind was starting to knit together and solidify the truth. 

One day, I was telling my therapist a story of the time I bought a blue bottle, and the reason I bought it.  I thought it was still in my save-box. I had no recollection that I had given the bottle to my therapist for safe keeping. Throughout these eight years, I had given him many, many things that I had saved from my childhood. I thought they were my smoking guns, he always told me they were my breadcrumbs. The breadcrumbs that helped lead me back to a repressed past, that I knew someday I would be able to untangle. When I would bring my “breadcrumbs” to my therapist we never talked in detail about them at the time. I just needed them out of my house, and I was too triggered with recalling and processing memories for us to talk about where, and why I had these many objects. I just knew he would keep them safe for me. 

I forgot I gave him this bottle, which was great because I began to tell him the backstory of it.  How at 13 yrs old, I thought I was being so brave by buying it, bringing it home and waving it front of the face of a very dangerous person. Telling my therapist this part, lead me to tell him about the shirt I was wearing at the time. I knew I had saved that shirt and asked him if I had given that to him too. He told me he didn’t have it and I knew it was on the top shelf of my closet.  I knew I would look for it first thing the next morning. 

And, there it was…not the shirt, but a picture of me wearing that shirt the day before I moved to a new state. The day before I turned 17. Wearing a cute little peach shirt, earrings, long painted nails; all a veneer covering what lay right beneath the surface. The abused, neglected, abandoned, dehumanized object of many people who had already experienced a trail of unimaginable circumstances.  Along with that picture, were pictures of  my last four perpetrators. I had no memory of keeping these pictures, together, tucked in the back corner of my closet. I thought I would never see these faces again.

Looking at those pictures, feeling shocked, I felt a palpable fear coursing through my body and the look of uncomfortable fear (something I have never seen) on my husbands’ face. In the far distant part of my mind, I heard the inkling of a voice, my voice telling me, this is it. It’s done. I have completed my story; I have the people to prove it. I also, let myself feel proud of the smart girl who squirreled away those pictures. I felt proud of my other objects, my breadcrumbs, but this was the coup d’état. When I brought them to my therapist to dispose of I said to him, “I know, I know, more breadcrumbs.” But he said the words, I longed to hear. He said, “these, are your smoking guns.” It felt great to dispose of those pictures. All traces of them are gone. 

But still, I wasn’t quite ready to turn away from that Himalayan-esque mountain range my therapist helped me traverse the last eight years.  I had to stay and look at that range for as long as it took. I had to! I had to honor my truth. To honor the mountains, the terrible explosive volcanic mountains that are the truth of my life.  Then I was ready, and a year ago,  I turned away and began hiking away from the mountain range, towards the next path of health.

I’m slow, I’m tired, I’m just really spent! The feelings and emotions that are most prevalent right now are the fear of the people who planned it all and the memory of my perpetrators. Sometimes, I feel victimized, hurt, scared, unsteady, disturbed, very disturbed, but I also feel a profound sense of peace.

My therapist sent me a text, to save and read when I  needed some words of encouragement. It says,  “You are safe. You may not feel safe, and that is to be expected. Eventually, you will. Until that time, trust me that you are.”  I read that text a lot the past year as I ventured away from processing memories of the past and learned to cope with the effects of all the trauma and my PTSD. When I read it, it lands deeper and deeper. Eventually, I won’t have to read it any longer. 

Last week, I wrote a  goodbye letter to a group of people who were greatly responsible for putting me in harm’s way. I woke up, with the first snow, which had broken the cycle of the Fall triggers ready to say goodbye to them. I’m ready to let them go, so I can heal without them constantly in the forefront of my mind.

With leaden feeling legs, a weary mind, a sense of accomplishment and a heart full of hope, this afternoon I burnt the letter and let the ashes fly into the universe, a symbol of freedom from my perpetrators. A walk towards the warmth, an incredible freeing release from my past. The breadcrumbs are swept away, the “smoking guns” revealed and let go of, the ashes have dispersed in the wind and today the sun is shining on my face!

image:pixaby

 

 

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

Traveling Along Life’s Path

Resting atop a snow ledge

I watch a bird soar high above.

Drawing from his strength

I take a deep breath and

commit this landscape to memory.

I feel free and strong enough

to conquer whatever awaits me

as I travel along life’s path.

©Alexis Rose, image: pixabay

 

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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

Each Step, Your Personal Summit

The only sound you hear is your own breath.

The air is clean, crisp, and alive

with possibility and excitement.

Determination emanates as you adjust

to the altitude and settle into

the beauty of your surroundings.

Each step is a personal victory.

Each step is your personal summit.

©Alexis Rose

image: pixabay

 

 

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

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 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.

I’m happier now with the kinds of relationships that being both vulnerable and authentic has brought me. I no longer have the people in my life 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.”

 

 

photo image, pixabay

 

 

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

With Hope, I Can Conquer Mountains…

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. 

©Alexis Rose

 

image of hands: pixabay

 

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

Book Launch Celebration Party

Join Brigid, https://watchingthedaisies.com and help her celebrate her book launch of Watching the Daisies, Life Lessons on the Importance of Slow. Congratulations Brigid!

Watching the Daisies

Welcome to my book launch celebration party.  I am offering a free e formatted copy of my book “Watching the Daisies – Life Lessons on the Importance of Slow” to the first 10 people who like and re blog this post.

My book will be available on Amazon Kindle from Monday 14th November, to coincide with the supermoon!  It is available to pre order now.

Please help yourself from my selection of alcoholic and non alcoholic cocktails, or a cup of tea or coffee.  There are plenty of nibbles available including mini boxties( Irish potato pancakes), crostini, quiche, daisy cupcakes, chocolate mousse, Pavlova…

EVERYONE is very welcome.
Please leave a link to your blog in the comments section and any details you wish to share.
Mingle and check out other blogs – it is a great way to meet new friends and grow your own blog.
We have a tradition of singing…

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Why I Write

It’s an unusually warm, long and beautiful Autumn here in the Midwest, which has afforded me precious time to sit on my deck and reflect over the whirlwind of the past year. Releasing Untangled, emerging from the shadows of silence, a year of blogging, speaking to groups and now preparing to collaborate on an exciting project has me asking myself, Why do I write?

When I speak to groups and open it up for questions, I’m almost always asked, what made you write a book, or have you always been a writer? The answer to both is, “no!” I never wrote anything beyond copy for ads, or random newsletter articles for my jobs before 2011. I didn’t keep a journal, never was a huge letter writer, I really never gave writing a thought.

When I began therapy my therapist suggested that I journal. Most of us have been told by our therapist’s to journal our thoughts and feelings. I despised journaling. I would become so emotional, because often, the pages looked like one big opus for wanting to end my life. I would literally tear up the pages after I wrote them, despondent because I couldn’t separate my feelings from what I wanted to write about. It was all emotion and no substance, no thoughts, no depth and it felt destructive. So I refused to continue to journal.

But, I found myself writing emails to my therapist and we would talk about them at our next session. It was becoming evident that I was looking for a way to write down my thoughts. My therapist went to a conference on PTSD. At the conference, he learned that when clients journaled on a keyboard, (not pen and paper) that it was easier for them to keep journaling. The act of using a keyboard was incorporating bilateral stimulation which helped put some distance between the terrible trauma and intense feelings and they were able to keep writing longer. That made perfect sense to me, so I began to use writing as a healing tool.

Writing gave me the courage I needed to address the pain I was feeling. I would write even when I thought I had nothing to write about. At first, I strictly used it for bilateral stimulation. I would write and send what I wrote off to my therapist. I started to find that I was able to write down what I couldn’t say aloud.  At first, I think it provided distance from having to use my voice, but then I found it actually gave me a voice.  When I still couldn’t speak a truth, I found if I read it out loud to my therapist, that I was speaking the truth. 

The courage to share my writing with others happened because a friend wanted to understand what was happening to me. She knew I had just been diagnosed with PTSD and wanted to know what it felt like, so she could understand and be supportive. I had always been the master of wearing many masks, and deflecting any conversation away from me, all with a supportive smile for everyone else. But when I couldn’t hide my illness any longer my friends reached out. They wanted to be there, but I couldn’t verbalize it. I was confused, ashamed, scared and thought everyone who loved me would run away if they knew the real me. Since I couldn’t really explain it,  I wrote a poem (My PTSD) and began sharing it with people who asked what it felt like to have PTSD.

Seven years after that first assignment to journal on a keyboard, I have written four books, had a number of published articles and just celebrated a year on my wonderful blog. I reflect on writing from a different perspective. Now, I write because I love to share what I’m thinking, feeling or musing over. I write because I’ve had feedback from others, to help give them a voice, to put feelings into words that they may be unable to describe. Writing is a way to be seen and heard, especially by a group who suffers from mental illness and are often marginalized.

I write because I will no longer be shamed into silence. But, I also control the volume of my voice. I want to be effective in destigmatizing mental illness, invisible illness, for me, PTSD. I know that I’m a quiet word of mouth writer. It fits my personality. I love the writers who are more vocal, and speak with confidence and often, they know the volume of their voice and can reach a much wider audience.

I write because it fills my cup, it satisfies my creativity and it keeps me connected to the world. I care deeply about what I write and share, hoping that the connection between us continues to grow. Sometimes that starts with a simple written word.

Why do you write?

 

 

 

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