Pheonix

100 mgs. That's where I'm at on this journey to come off meds that were supposed to be temporary; till I learned new coping mechanisms. 

All the "pros" said I was ready. I said I was ready. So here I am, using one of the coping mechanisms I've learned to utilize through the "WHAT THE FUCK!!!" moments. 

Had a very real moment sitting on the beach today feeling caged. Which is fucked because the beach is where I usually go to feel healed. I didn't want healing. I didn't want anything to help me. I was content in my isolation, feeling abandoned and angry. I didn't want love, I wanted total erasure. To be gently blown out like a candle. 

So let me kinda explain the scaffolding that is me. I am building myself from the ground up...again. I'm reprogramming a lot of things. 

This means that when my cptsd is triggered I go into flight mode and that can look like many things. But thanks to my awareness I can see and feel it before it happens and can go straight to damage management. It's painstaking work. It's a lot of self-talk, a lot of challenging the narrative of what people have told me I am. It's hard fucking work. 

Today was one of those days. On top of the typical monthly horomone dump, body dysmorphia, coming off meds, I was trying to fight this overwhemling undertow of emotion I was finding myself in. 

And then a visitor joined me on the beach. The conversation went something like this...

"You know the best way to get back at someone is not in destruction." He said sitting next to me. I was already pissed and spiraling faster watching kids chase ducks around for entertainment. The Druid in me wanted to scold and this new visitor was making my avalanche of misplaced anger heavier with their positive bullshit. I rolled my eyes, "Right, right, it's in my success. I don't want to give anyone that fucking credit." He didn't flinch or give any indication of impatience. Instead he said, "No it's in your indifference." I looked at him a bit puzzled. He continued, "Your creation of you is yours. No one elses. That's your success. In every moment you have a choice to keep moving forward. Why give someone the satisfaction of glorifying your defeat; making it their own, giving them a platform to defile your memory. Why let them create a lie to appease their minds after you're gone. That's a lot of power to give someone."

I looked away from him and felt relief rise in me. I watched my littlest playing in the water laughing. He must have sensed this new found peace cause he placed a feather down next to me and said, "You never die. You know this. It's just a transition. This pain doesn't just disappear. It moves into form and just keeps changing. That transition doesn't change anything. You are still part of this All."

At this point I felt caged again. "So, now what?!" I said impatiently. He looked at the feather then looked at me. "Speak the truth. Sing it. Draw it, write it. Do whatever you have to do to change it from your curse to your origin story. Make the truth your armor. An inspiration to some and a mirror for others. And let it burn in your eyes. Let it fuel your passion." 

And just like that my visitor stood. "Do you understand? Have I answered your question?" 

I nodded. He nodded and strolled down the shoreline a bit before fading from view.  

I was still mad but felt purpose behind it. And now here I am, again owning my story. This is a part of me that I won't keep silent. It's not pleasant and it's not for the faint of heart. It is my story and I intend to keep it that way. 

All my love,

Amber