Taking Stock At Year's End: Cocooning To Heal

It’s been really quiet around here, lately, yeah?

I’ve been… cocooning– I guess is the best way to phrase it. I haven’t felt much like talking or writing– which isn’t like me at all, I know! Usually, the words are a near-continuous stream that rarely lets up. I began writing to have a safe outlet as I whirled around and around my thoughts. And I love writing! I always will, it’s a part of me. I love tippity-typing words out with my fingers almost as fast as I can think! It’s a wonder of sorts, really.

But the last few months I have been in a grade-A weird place emotionally and intellectually. For once, though, this isn’t a depression episode (although I did have an intense one that lasted about 3 days at one point). It really is as if I’ve been resting in a chrysalis, getting ready to emerge later a better, freer, and happier person. That makes this latest prolonged mood the strangest of my entire life.

As I’ve stated before, I’m finally properly medicated and that has made a profound difference. My anxiety isn’t keeping me on the line with constant fear in my mental background. A state I’m so used to over the last five decades that I didn’t understand the extent of my disorders. Fear has always been riding my mind and derailing my body. I barely know what it’s like without that feeling. I would much rather have motivation and anticipation than fear, but I’ve never really had a choice about it. My brain got wired badly by both abuse and neglect and it’s taken this long to sort it out and start to function a bit more normally.

Lyrica for pain and anxiety. Cannabis a few times a month for insomnia and when I start to get PTSD triggers or migraines. Shrooms a few times only in the last couple of years, which had odd but positive lasting impacts on my ability to think clearly and re-attach to my senses (anxiety, by contrast, causes one to feel almost floating in their head and distant from their body.) And– X one day about every other month or so to confront past triggers and deal with present stuck issues. Nothing more exciting than the “hippie” drugs, but that’s all that’s needed.

I never did mind-altering drugs until I became middle-aged, and I rather regret it because most of my life was wasted in overwhelming fear and avoidance. But–! Better late than never, and I’m old enough to be careful and methodical about it. The point is– there are some things that mere talk therapy just can’t address. When the brain is stuck, it needs extra help to heal, and I don’t mean a lifetime prescription of anti-depressants! Those can save your life, but then just turn it into a gray fog of “oh well” that lasts forever. No thanks! I wanted to heal– permanently. And I dove into college-level research (from qualified experts and books!) to find a way to address my misery. It takes some care and time, but I kept getting better and better and better. I had no idea I could ever get THIS much better. (Now I’m rather vexed with our puritanical society and it’s ostracizing prohibition upon substances that actually fix these life-altering issues… but that’s a rant for another day!)

Beyond that, I’ve been processing what I think may have been the most traumatic event of my very young life. I still don’t know if I can believe what emerged during hypnosis. But if it’s a fiction I conjured, it’s strange how recalling it (or making it up???) has helped relieve some hidden pressure in my life. It explained my parents extreme descent into substance abuse and neurotic behaviors like hoarding, not to mention their suddenly turning against me in a way that mystified and hurt me the first 34 years of my life. Maybe a convenient fiction– maybe. That seems more likely to me than what came out under hypnosis! And YET– and yet there was a great healing effect once the scenario in question (the military kidnapping my entire family after an alien abduction event) was released into my conscious mind. If it’s not real… why do I feel so much better months after reporting it? Excellent question! I don’t take my response to the hypnosis as proof it happened, but psychologically it is suggestive of a real event.

My defenses are just… shrinking. I don’t mean the armor that we all need to get along, I mean the unnecessary ego bullshit that masquerades as resentful neutrality, with walls up and arguments down! My harsh ‘no’ is reigned in, and I’m listening to others better. I’m not worried about my defects so much, nor overly attached to my uniqueness. Rather, my new default mode is a listening curiosity. This leads to my compassion growing. I’m able to relax and be physically affectionate with my friends. I don’t feel threatened when Cat cites suicide every time she has a bad day! (Not that she should do that, but if she does, I don’t get a gnawing pain in my belly anymore.)

So what have I been doing a lot in the last few months to reach, or to assist in reaching, this state?

It’s a bit embarrassing actually. I’ve been practicing kindness on myself! I’ve been indulging myself massively as I sort things out emotionally. I’m giving myself the rest and understanding that I’ve needed for a very long time. No one else is going to do that for me. But hating myself for needing a break doesn’t help either, and I guess I finally understand that I needed a darned break! What I’m finding is that the crazy, massive NEED to be nurtured actually lets go at a certain point, and then boredom kicks in and… I find myself ready to tackle my goals again.

My divorce triggered my CD-PTSD, and then I was pushing myself hard to stay sane and to keep it together for myself, Cat (and, for 2 years, her mother) without really getting much direct support for myself in the day to day. I got as much therapy as I could afford, and I participated (and still participate) in support groups for PTSD victims and abductees. My extremely close friends, who I call my “tribe” now, showed up again and again and again to help where they could. But I don’t have a special partner in my life who nurtures and supports ME. For years, I didn’t even want one. Too risky!! My heart couldn’t handle even the potential for betrayal.

But that meant that no one took care of me. Cat is a domestic partner of sorts, but she has some emotional limitations. When I was flaring so much I could barely get out of bed twice a day to use the bathroom and couldn’t even feed myself– she didn’t really check on me. She hated it, my not being around or helping out during that time, but she gave next to no nurturing support (she was better at helping the first couple of weeks after I broke my foot, because it was obvious what I needed and my doctors gave her instructions to follow.)

So– instead of fighting with myself, I gave myself some time to just relax and think and imagine and play and I didn’t torture myself over it. I knew I couldn’t indulge myself forever, but I could feel things changing during the time that I could offer myself. The last of my bitterness is sloughing off, and I began to build a more steady personal core of strength.

I’m not saying that I’m suddenly just… singing “hallelujah” and skipping through meadows of daisies! Nah–! I have too dark of a pattern in my life to be kissing rainbows and dancing in sunshine just like that! No, it’s more like I can take a few deep breaths and smell the air and be at peace. I can listen to birds and frogs sing and enjoy the moment. There’s still shit that’s scary and awful in the world, but my own personal sphere isn’t so bad at all, and there is love and mercy in my world– but now it’s not theoretical, it’s REAL. And it’s HERE. And I feel like I’m okay for just a while, and it’s okay to be okay, without regret or guilt or constant fear for the future.

I’ve had some stark tests to my newly acquired mental status. I thought I was rejected by a student I had grown close to– but Amara turned out to be dealing with some things and my timing was weird and triggered her. We figured it out last weekend and managed to get it all sorted, and if anything– it ended up being very therapeutic for us both. Regardless, when I thought I was being rejected yet again… I was okay! I mean, it was sad, and irritating that she seemingly ghosted me. But I didn’t fall into paroxysms of round-robin self-questioning damaging my personal security, leading to anguished self-doubt fighting with overly defensive arguments that I didn’t deserve such treatment. Rather, my response was– “Well, fuck. I guess our styles just aren’t going to work then, eh?” I prepared to say good-bye and let her go and I was ready to move on. A little sad, but not truly hurt.

HOW IN THE EVER LOVING HELL!?!?

That was when I realized that all the special treatments I’ve been using, and the spells I’ve cast, and the psychological techniques I’ve slowly built up to help myself are actually working. Really working! Another person was unable to push or pull me into doubting myself so hard it literally hurt.

And it’s weird… really fucking weird, to be in this head space.

So I’ve been mostly silent– barely talking to anyone– as I’ve processed these deep personal changes. I’m not going to stay that way forever, but for a while I didn’t want to poke it, I just wanted to enjoy it, you know?

I’ll be discussing more about this in the coming months. I have to lot to figure out as I step out of the cocoon I’ve been in and start drying out those brand new wings. I’m not quite sure how to… BE… who I’m turning into these days. I know I’m warmer and quieter than I was before. I’m living much more peacefully and contentedly with quite a bit less materially than I had before and yet… it just doesn’t take much to be okay right now.

Yet this little interlude is doomed to shift out of it’s phase soon. The world is still fucking bonkers. Many, MANY challenges loom upon my personal horizon. I need to be as functional as possible when I complete this first book about my abductions and then promote it to the world. It won’t make me rich, but it may help me get by financially and propel my life into a whole new chapter. And I KNOW that I’m going to make waves with it and all future books. However, now I’m feeling better prepared to deal with that. I’ve been terrified of getting the spotlight and making myself a target, but I knew I had to get over that shit or stay stuck in the dark, silent about my profound life experiences forever. So I’ve been nurturing myself in a quiet place as I prepared for all of this, and it seems to have helped.

Wish me luck for what’s to come. I have a feeling I would have become undone by it all if I didn’t adequately take care of myself.