Saturday, January 20, 2018

The Only Time Is Now

It's incredible how easy it is to forget this, my most sacred mantra.  Ten years ago the abuse hadn't yet begun. The trauma had not taken hold, though there were signs that I'm carrying something with me from childhood.  At times I look back dreaming of being her again. Yet without my tragedy I wouldn't be so wise.  Of course I wouldn't be so chaotic either.  I'm pretty sure we are all carrying baggage from our upbringing, a society full of people challenging themselves to overcome.  Whenever I forget to focus on right now, right here, keep breathing; the downward spiral begins.  The thing is, the climb back up is always available at any moment.  The lifelines all just waiting for us to grab hold. Breathing exercises, physical activity, directing focus on a pleasant thought. 

For those of us with hyperactive attention it can seem like we have no choice but to plummet to the depths of despair. When we live in tension it's easy to go looking for the reason, where is the problem. I find myself remembering things that made me tense, even things that made me tense for no reason, or things that were appropriate reasons but not necessary to focus on.  More often then not it's just a discomfort of the body. In our present dystopian nightmare it's common and accepted to take prescription drugs to feel relief.  The chemicals that affect our thinking and motor functions can be the most difficult to adjust, my challenge is to do it without pharmaceuticals. At times, it's no problem.  I stop, I focus on my breath, or if I'm free to roam I find a body of water to gaze upon.  Though other times, I get trapped in the loop, round and round between tension, discomfort, fear, back around.  My favorite mindfulness meditation lately is to list the Fibonacci sequence. It doesn't bring me back, but it slows down the panic, puts on the breaks just enough for me to find a proper lifeline. My deepest loops are when I'm fighting with myself. When the part of me that wants to follow my old programming, my old habits is trying to overpower the me that knows it's all a terrible idea.  Sometimes we have to take risks, but we don't have to take stupid ones.  Yet I'm very good at it.  Then comes the hyper focus on all I should have done. 

Right now, in this moment, my challenge is to stop thinking about how I should have set firm boundaries and stayed away from situations that were too great of a risk, too intense of a trigger, and instead redirect that experience to a solid plan of doing it right from now on.  Be firm in my beliefs and standards.  Let no one get away with projecting their own insecurities onto me.  My power of empathy unfortunately leaves that door open, then I avoid conflict by not challenging the misconception. Or if I do it's timidly with unclear expression via text or email. It seems that sometimes we don't step up to a challenge until it becomes absolutely necessary, we don't see that we took a wrong turn until we are too far gone to back away.  Then comes the old cliche anecdotes.  The only way out is through. This too shall pass. It's okay to not be okay.  Yet sometimes the woods of discontent are thick and dark, and it takes great passion to make it through.  That passion may be anger, or it may be love, but it has to be strong, and determined. 

When I was a teenager, I cried out about the consequences of stereotypes.  If someone is always treated a certain way, they eventually have no other choice but to live in that role.  For example, a youth that is treated as a criminal, or a failure, will not be given the opportunity to prove themselves otherwise.  Thus it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.  The same goes for women who are treated like they couldn't possibly be different from the last woman, or the stereotype of a woman.  Those women don't have the opportunity to prove themselves otherwise.  While an institution such as school or an industry can be conquered in the face of these barriers, it is much more difficult to be true to you when family, friends and lovers want to tell you who you are.  I often hear, set boundaries, and I always saw that as, saying no, or establishing intent.  Yet this last year I learned it's more than that. It is also not allowing anyone to treat you as someone you are not.  Some people will actually listen when you try to explain your life views, your beliefs your goals.  Yet others will only hear what they want to hear, and continue to insist on their view of who you are.  I have realized that setting boundaries is also about not taking shit. Don't let them convince you, that you are what they say you are.  They only say who they are, what they want out of you. It's hard to be true when fighting to recover from trauma, our impulse is to give in to the demands to avoid conflict, but then when you try to get out of the stereotype conflict will arise.  I'm hoping that in the future I can take swift and early action.  Not just saying no to sketchy or intense situations, but also to be clear and direct about who I am and not put up with being treated otherwise. 

Even after coming to these conclusions, realizing all the places I went wrong come back to haunt me.  I've processed, I've understood, yet the desire to have done it differently the first time distracts not only from the preparation to handle myself appropriately in the future, but it also distracts from right now.  This very moment that I could be doing something good for myself. Doing something I enjoy even if the tension in my body distracts me.  Since I've been forgetting that the only time I have is right here, right now, I've started to use an affirmation of redirection.  I confirm yes, that would have been a better route to take, so how can I implement that now?  Many of the recent failures that are recalled with my body tension were moments of fear, fear of things going wrong, of things going right, of being misunderstood, of being abandoned, of failing to meet whatever challenge I was facing, of how to even set a boundary. When I get caught in the panic, the loop starts playing.  The movie that terrorizes my attention, a horror that it's hard to look away from.  So I tell myself, alright, how can I do it differently, right now

When I recall the moment of panic, frozen in fear just yards away from going into a party full of new people, I spent so long trying to convince myself to do it, trying to make my limbs move and just walk in, but I couldn't get out of the car. Yet if I had taken on that challenge, accepted that low risk but properly challenging social situation. I wouldn't have been available to accept a phone call from a person with whom I struggled to set boundaries. It was a moment of weakness, where I made the wrong choice, that choice snowballed into my last major breakdown, the one I'm still removing tension from my body for. The actions I took reinforced the person I was being told I was, which is not the person I identify as. My redirection processes is how can I make the right choice now?  I forced myself to go out for new years, reach out to anyone I could think of. I forced myself to accept an invitation to the bar even though I didn't feel like being around drunkenness.

When I recall the day I failed to achieve plans with a woman I was into, something that carried a deep weight because I had struggled to push past the initial meet to hanging out with someone a second time, I get upset that I withdrew, that I was reactionary to anyone who mildly annoyed me.  It caused me to lose a friend I had just reconnected with (silver lining their alcohol abuse and my inability to set boundaries means this was a good thing) yet I fell into devastation despite knowing this, forgot to take care of myself.  I get upset not at the failure to move forward with her, but at my inability to bounce back and try again.  So my redirection when I dive into this pain, this disappointment in my behavior, is how can I do it right now?  One way is to stop avoiding internet conversations and stop avoiding men, sure I want a woman, and I carry a great fear of men, reinforced by my most recent failure at boundaries, but online conversations are easy to drop and discontinue.  I refuse to go back to facebook, it's bad for my mental health, but when I find myself looping, I jump on a chat room, a game site, something social with complete strangers from all over the world.

When I recall all the boundaries I haven't set, all the challenges I've avoided, how I've failed to keep up with my health, I redirect with; what can I do about it now?  Right now I can take an action of self care.  Right now I can pursue an activity I enjoy, even if it's hard at first. Right now I can remember, that there is only now.  Right now I can embrace the true being that I am, without judgment from others.  There is only now, and right now I am breathing, right now I am free to choose my own adventure, take action to do something that realigns my life with my, something that makes progress on a goal.

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