+A FEW WORDS ABOUT PANSIES AND WORMS

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Wednesday, November 24, 2015.

I cannot kill these pansies

Little bit of life

That they are

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As winter’s cold and darkness

Settles outside my door

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I hauled them inside

In their five gallon plastic buckets

After I left them out there

Long enough to freeze

Several times

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Their blossoms have given up

Yet not their buds

And not the emerald green of their leaves

And certainly not their tenacious roots

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I MUST love them

I MUST care for them

I MUST

I will

It is a part of who I am

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April through November they have blessed me with their beauty

They did not ask for life

They do not crave death

Theirs is a certain kind of bravery

Courage to the end

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And these earthworms

Are they as silent as they seem?

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What, my dear, can I give to them

Remnants from a summer garden confined

Gathered in a gelatinous mass

Having seeped themselves down through and out of the bottom holes of these buckets onto the plastic beneath them

Only to have found no real possibility of escape?

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Do they live?

Are they dead?

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I bury them again in now warm so-black bucket dirt

I can wait

We will see

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I must apologize

I am so sorry for my own confusions

My uncertainties

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I, too, share this life and death cusp

With all of you

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This seek for safety

This holding on to life

This approach to death

To transformation

First

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O worms!  I feed you water soaked cardboard and bits of paper for a winter in these buckets

In this apartment

Stashed so cleverly in a spare corner

On my kitchen floor

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Unlike my species

If there is even one of you left alive

You will reproduce.

More.

+

I

Would be glad

For that.

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Note:  I cannot create my chosen spacing here without using “+” as markers

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.  A daring book – for daring readers – about a really tough subject.

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Leave a Comment »

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

 

 

+PEACEABLE PROCEDURE?

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Wednesday, November 24, 2015.  A different kind of peace seems to be encompassing my apartment’s living space than was here before all hell broke loose above and around me – and perhaps has left again.  So strange.  What an unwelcome ordeal.  But perhaps existed in my life – as a kind of teacher.

Relief.

I spoke via telephone for a second time yesterday with the management of this apartment complex.  This time I spoke to the ‘main man’ – and the horrendous all-hours stomping and romping, running and crashing, shaking of ceiling and walls – the great BOOMS above me – have stopped.

Relief.

Is this permanent?

Time will tell.  I feel as though I just went through a great battle of a war that appeared in my life out of nowhere.  There really is NOTHING my so-harmed-by-severe-early-abuse-and-trauma nervous system requires more than predictably stable peaceful calm.

I am STUNNED not only by what just happened here so recently but also by what happened to ME during these “attacks.”  Scary stuff.

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I keep hearing one particular echo from that management-me conversation yesterday.  As I described yet again what was happening here I also, by habit?  By my inner design?  Mentioned that “I am a good tenant….”  Management responded, “It does not matter if you are a good tenant or a bad tenant.  That kind of noise and behavior is simply not accepted in these apartments.”

Oh, within us the echoes of horrendous early years of violence, terror, abuse, trauma – they NEVER really leave us in our lifetime.  I suspect it really is ONLY a matter of what kind of circumstances we find ourselves subject to that determine how those sometimes-latent trauma changes make themselves felt in our body, in our life.

That is OK.  It has to be.  That is our reality.

What happens next is what matters.

Are we in meaningful ways protected from further harm in every situation in some way?

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I kept thinking over these past days of horrible torment (in my universe) of something I experienced way back 41 years ago.  I lived in Redwood City, CA in a 2nd floor apartment in one of those buildings that had a railed walkway on that level to reach all those apartments from the outside.

My daughter was 3 ½.  I was still, at 22, oblivious about the horrific nature of the trauma I had endured during the entire first 18 years of my life.  I knew NOTHING BUT endure and survive.

I had badly fighting neighbors on the right-wall side of my apartment.  Horrible fighting erupted one night about 2:30 in the morning as the man screamed and shouted at his wife – I could tell with a gun in his hand – threatening to shoot her.

My response?  The only response I was capable of at that time in my life?

Yes, with fear but quite calmly, I woke my little girl and carried her to my bathroom.  I crooned to her quietly, soothingly as I dragged a comforter along with us to spread out on the bottom of the cast iron bathtub where I curled up with my daughter in the only place of safety I could imagine.  We spent the rest of that very long night there waiting for bullets to come tearing through my apartment’s wall.

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I sure cannot garner any special nuggets of wisdom from this situation right now.  I feel too worn down and worn out by life, actually, to put forth the kind of effort it would take of me to try to mine something out of this any more meaningful than to say – THANK YOU for this peace and quiet here now!

What about “It should NEVER have happened in the first place?”

Moot point.

Entirely.

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It is NOT silent up there with a family and at least one child as tenants.  But it is CIVILIZED and reasonable and acceptable.  It is now doable for me to adjust my needs for quiet and peaceful calm in response to and in relationship to the life of that family that has moved in above me.

In some ways I SENSE or feel or imagine – that this family NEEDED to be able to stop the madness within their own lives.  That little child needs that peace, some kind of appropriate response by its caregiving adults.  Letting a young child, perhaps age 4 ½, run like a maniac around until after 2 am is NOT appropriate.

Not in THIS portion of the universe, at least.

Not here.  Not now.

But I am very aware of my own inner struggle to stand up for myself in this situation – even at age 64.  It was NOT easy to do.  But it was necessary.  And I hope this peace – is lasting.  I really, really DO!

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.  A daring book – for daring readers – about a really tough subject.

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Leave a Comment »

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

 

 

+PERFECT PEACE

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Tuesday, November 24, 2015.  These few words came to me last Sunday at a time when the horrible stomping romping wall and ceiling shaking so threatening my peace from the apartment above me had abated for a time.  For the past two years I had neighbors up there who were quiet adult men.  I NEVER in ten billion years would have renewed my year’s lease if THIS family had been up there.

I really do NOT know how I can endure and survive a long North Dakota winter being trapped in here with them up there.  I am losing entire nights of sleep.  Scary.  Hard.  Very, very disturbing having people up there with no pattern to their life I can detect, little children romping hard until 2 am….

++

Right on the surface of the glass

Looking inward

Looking outward

That’s where our psychology will be

+

Where on a spectrum does light become sound and sound become light

To humans?

+

There is a quiet there – at these places.  In these spaces.  A kind of pause – the quiet both before and within the storm.

Calmness.

Life, though, is never easy.

+

There is a pause

Where darkness turns into light

(and the other way around).

+

When a flying bird’s wing beats downward

That point just before the wing

Turns up again

There is an instant of

Perfect peace.

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

++++

Leave a Comment »

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

 

 

+WHEN EMPATHY FALTERS – AND FAILS

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Wednesday, November 17, 2015.  I remember those days, weeks, months, years when never did a blog post topic come into my thoughts that I didn’t simply write and post it.  Those times seem to me now to have been part of a different lifetime.

I could sit at my funky old desk with my laptop gazing at brilliant blue skies, across the range of my adobe flower gardens, past the tall rusted Mexican-American border fence at the topmost peaks of San Jose Mountain in Mexico, and write.

I could think.  I could ponder.  I could feel and sense and I could write.

I was living in an environment that fed, nurtured and sustained me.  Fargo, North Dakota?  Nope.  Winter is coming, etc.  Simply put, “Too much darkness.”  Working to remain positive is, well, A LOT OF WORK for me here.  A great deal of work.

There doesn’t seem much of me left over to write with (or from),

This, too, shall pass.  Everything does.  Sooner or later.

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So, (a) when given a situation with a lot of depletion going on and not much for restoration, (b) how does one FEEL?

I KNOW everyone goes through (a), but the older I get (I am 64 now) and the more American society changes, the more I see that it is certainly not true that everyone experiences (b).  At least not that they know about.  Not that they are forced to accept or ‘deal with’.

There are many, MANY ways not only NOT to feel, but in tandem with not feeling their own reality people DO NOT FEEL other people’s feelings, either.

Bye bye EMPATHY!

And WHERE on earth are we as human beings without EMPATHY?

Oh, shake, quiver and quake!

Answer?

In trouble.

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If a tree falls in a forest and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

If a feeling is a response to life itself and nobody FEELS it, does that feeling exist?

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The word “void” comes to mind here.

Without the information that our feelings give to us about being alive in this world as members of a profoundly social species, are we creating voids all around us without even noticing?

Do we then expect other people to simply ignore the fact that these void-living (absence of feelings/empathy) people CANNOT truly be reached or communicated with?

OR TRUSTED – in the deepest safely and securely attached sort of way (so that we do not feel all alone in a nor-really safe world)?

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“Knock knock.”

“Nobody is here.”

Nobody is an island?  You bet that they are in current American society.

They certainly are.

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I know that I am a dreamer.  I am always looking for and in some way hoping for a world that probably does not exist.  A friend told me the other day that he heard that humans are only capable of truly attuning to another person about 30% of the time.  That’s why, as developmental neuroscientist Dr. Allan N. Schore describes, the process of “rupture with or without repair” is so central to the processes of being human.  Of being alive.

But we must care enough and be able to NOTICE when a rupture occurs so that it can even be repaired.  And we have to know how to sort out the causes of ruptures and learn how to orchestrate repairs.

Yes, in my dreamer world I believe that humans are BORN (given good enough uterine conditions of earliest life) to DO all of these things.  But I also see, with great concern and sadness, that an increasing number of mothers in America are perfectly fine with bringing their children into the world and then abandoning them into the care of strangers.

The building of all of the essential structures within a human’s body-brain to process feelings and then to be able to live with true, healthy empathy, is a job that nature has always given to mothers of infants.  This is a vast area that I will not address specifically here except to say that on the one hand we have Autism Spectrum Disorders where social and emotional information which includes the empathetic processes is not a part of those people’s reality.

And then on the other hand we are fine with having larger and larger numbers of people who are placed into the care of “professional” childcare providers who have to intimate investment in using attuned empathy to communicate with these little ones – so that the end result – seems to me – is our current building of a nation where empathy is nearly entirely missing.

What do I think about all of this?  One word:  Uh-oh!

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I do note that those who endured and survived horrific early life filled with trauma, we have had to learn about empathy through different channels.  Those of us who HAVE done this were, for whatever reasons, highly motivated to do so.  I have HUGE concerns that with the proliferation of infants and young children now being abandoned for most of their waking life by their mothers (essentially) – nobody is going to even notice — what is going so wrong OR what is missing:  Feelings and Empathy.

These are processes that I believe are essential to being fully human.

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

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Leave a Comment »

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

 

+PBS DOCUMENTARY – WATCH FREE UNTIL NOV. 30th

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Tuesday, November 17, 2015.  There are five important PBS videos at this link, free to watch until November 30th.

new PBS documentary series: “The Raising of America.”

Acesconnection comments HERE

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

++++

Leave a Comment »

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

 

+MUSING ABOUT MUSIC – AND TAKING SOME ACTION

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Tuesday, October 28, 2015.  The north wind is roaring around here.  It’s not THAT cold out yet, although I did see a sneeze of snow flurries this morning.  In Fargo, North Dakota it’s when the sneezing turns into full blown COLD with massive COUGHING north winds that drop wind chills to deadly that people here have to worry.

So, for the time being, I can leave my sliding glass door open a crack for fresh air – and for wind music.  I can actually tune this music by changing the width of the opening I leave for the wind to sing through.  (Nope.  This will NOT be music I wish to hear by next month.)

A wind whistle.  Howling?  Sometimes sounds like an oboe.  Sometimes rather piccolo-esque.  A little sax.  A little tuba.

Reminds me of wind howling across our family’s Alaskan mountain homestead during my childhood.  Of wolf songs.  Of wild things.  Things that what might remain of the earth’s wilderness know about.  A certain primal sense of freedom.

Of music in water’s movements.  Storms.  Yet wind?  How can it make any sound at all if there is nothing for it to blow around, through and against?

Like a crack open into this room

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Speaking of music….

I picked up this book a few weeks ago in trade at the little used bookstore a mile from my apartment –

Musicians in Tune: 75 Contemporary Musicians Discuss the Creative Process (1992) by Jenny Boyd (music psychologist)

In posting the link to this book I now see that Boyd has another book out that I will be ordering –

It’s Not Only Rock ‘n’ Roll: Iconic Musicians Reveal the Source of Their Creativity (2014) by Dr. Jenny Boyd and Holly George-Warren

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I do know that Boyd’s writings will be the basis of my serious self-examination this winter about how the traumatic abuse of my childhood so damaged my musician-within.  I am after some healing here.  Serious healing.  Lots of it.

I am also going to add to my study this book so highly recommended by Boyd –

Toward a Psychology of Being (2014 edition) by Abraham H. Maslow

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I spend nearly all the time I can making things with my hands.  I am an extremely creative person.  Yet, I also know that for some very bizarre reason I do not understand my mother not only allowed me to pursue 3-D creativity, she fostered it and often even praised this aspect of my being.

This was true only for one other part of me – that I liked flowers.

Bizarre.  In her mentally ill psychotic mind – what was she THINKING?

I don’t really care.  Except that I want my musician self to BE BORN NOW!!  I want to pursue what is, to me, the invisible side of my creativity.

I want to make music.  I want to stop hearing my mother’s words about me and music.  Her hate-filled voice.

I want to end this entrenched tyranny of her over me.

Now.

I am going after this freedom.  This joy.  This right.

Now.

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

++++

Leave a Comment »

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

+CALM ENOUGH TO MUSE?

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Sunday, October 25, 2015.  I haven’t felt calm enough to muse since I wrote this post that sits here on my computer – waiting.  Erase or post?  Well, I might as well put it online and be done with this.  Until next time….

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Friday, October 22, 2015.

Muse.  Musing.

ntransitive verb

1

:  to become absorbed in thought; especially :  to turn something over in the mind meditatively and often inconclusively

2

archaic :  wondermarvel

transitive verb

:  to think or say reflectively

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I am reminded that the core of “cognition, to cognate” is female.  Of “the mother.”  Muses?  Female?  Contemplate.  Contemplative.

I would say as “of the moon.”  Reflective of light within.  Inner light reflecting inner light.

Always with a tinge of The Great Mystery.”  Things unseen.  Things unknown.  Not a Mountain Goat surety of step and climb.  More of a slippery thing.  More about things that are wet rather than hot and dry.

Not a far flung reaching for the sun.  More of a depths-plumbing experience.  Perhaps more gentle.  Perhaps a kind of inner whispering.

Not grapping or gripping.  Not even grappling.  A kind of holding things loosely.  A kind of active watching.  Wandering without demands.  But, yes, with questioning!  With curiosity.  A kind of puzzling things out.

A process of defining.  Defining shapes of processes that don’t even need to be delineated with concretized boundaries.  Process.  Construction in process.

Kind of sounds like life.

Kind of like “mothering.”

A kind of safe and protective ALLOWING of “things” to evolve, to show themselves without critique or control.  Gentle.  With pride and encouragement and joy.

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No confusions.  No predictions.  And yet the nurturing-ground is CHAOS in its purest forms.  No fear.

Very much like pure play.  The same required conditions present for both processes.  Signaling an “OK enough” condition in “the world” during such moments of time.

This is about having a home.  Being at home in one’s self in the world.  Blossoming.  Or, on the other end of seasons, about preparing the ground for the resting time of winter.

No pushing thoughts around.  Letting them appear in images, in sensations, through the senses.  As memories – past and future moving through the now.

I think it’s important, helpful, significant to NOTICE these times of wandering wondering – to recognize them – and even to cherish them.  They happen in the absence of immediate toxic stress pressure.  We are feeling degrees of peacefulness, of calmness, of safety and security when these moments appear.

They might not stay very long.  That’s OK.  That’s the wonder-full thing about daydreams.  No pressure!

These moments will return again like the small gifts of life that they are.  Our inner selfie time.  Our a’musing time.  These are times we are not lost to our self.  In fact, I think we are MOST present WITH our self.

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By my own definition I do NOT include stress-filled-thoughts/feelings in this category of thinking-without-THINKING (passive-instead-of-active)!  Yet inspirations can certainly appear during these times that seem to magically help us resolve difficulties we face.

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

++++

Leave a Comment »

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

+WHEN STRESS THREATENS

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Wednesday, October 21, 2015.  I never thought of myself as “old” when I began this blog 6 ½ years ago.  I never even thought of myself as “aging” back then.  What has changed so much for me in those few years that I now feel like I am an entirely different person?

I could just as well simplify this question by asking myself, “What resources did I have then that I lack now?”  Is that what aging IS?  Nothing but a depletion of available resources?

Real or imagined?

How do we know the difference between these two states?

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I have a dear friend who is what he has termed for all of us high ACE score people – a TADPOLE – a Trauma Altered Person from way early in our development.  My friend talks a lot about “bandwidth” in terms of our continued experiences of our self in our life.  Huge amounts of trauma take up huge amounts of “space” within our bandwidth.

We FEEL this!!

But it’s not “just the trauma” – past and present – that so taxes our resources.  It is – as Laura Porter describes – the TOXIC STRESS of trauma that wears us down and wears us out.  Nearly all the transactions a very high ACE score person experiences involve some kind of stress because the stress is IN our body.  Toxic stress BUILT itself into is as we were getting built in the first place.

So I don’t think we ever really escape the stress of toxic stress.  We are stressed by stress.  Or, more specifically, are distressed by stress.  All of this being caught within this “bandwidth” of resource we negotiate our self through our life with.

Aging?  When I was younger I did not need to KNOW what this felt like.  I can no longer, it seems, avoid feeling what this feels like!

No more ignoring the effects of toxic stress in my life.  No more “back burner.”  If “working memory” includes ALL of who we are and what we know about our self in our life including how we FEEL in every way – then my “aging” self’s working memory is packed with information that I did NOT HAVE TO have any awareness of on an ongoing basis – when I was younger.

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Maybe I am thinking about a process that could be talked about in terms of “saturation.”  Be stressed enough long enough – and live long enough being stressed too much – something is going to give.  It won’t be “anxiety” that gives way.  It will be a sense of well-being.

That “Peaceful Easy Feeling.”

NOT FAIR!!

Nope!

SO?

I think we need to pay very close attention to even the smallest, tiniest, perhaps nearly insignificantly-seeming experiences in our life that are on the side of INCREASING our sense of well-being – because as these things help us feel BETTER they – even for the briefest of moments – diminish the impact of toxic stress in our life.

Toxic stress is, for high ACE score people, present all of the time BECAUSE it is built into our body.  BUT we have a RIGHT to figure out positive ways of claiming some space in the bandwidth that is our ongoing life – for things that bring us calm, peace and, if we are lucky, joy.

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Yesterday I woke up to the roar of a big Bobcat mower destroying the cattails in the only small area of natural beauty in Fargo anywhere near where I live.  The Bobcat got stuck in the wet black clay mud.  The yard service hired to complete this (dastardly) task brought in a 4×4 pickup to tow out the mower.  It got stuck.

Round and round they went until finally – my one positive soul-stirring visual tie to ME – was turned into a smashed, rut-scarred ruined horror of a mess where once I was able to look out my window and at least see a little bit of beauty.  A little bit of nature.

I felt devastated. I called one of my daughters in town who so kindly called to talk to management about this, to me, bandwidth shattering experience.

Today my daughter heard back from management that every few years they have to mow down the cattails (which are part of the rain water control system for the land these apartment buildings are built upon) so that they can then grow BETTER for the next few years.  Most importantly, nothing is going to be BUILT in that space!

RELIEF?

Oh, yeah, I feel relieved!  Did I OVERREACT to the horror I watched happen?  NO!  Did I REACT?  YES!

There are not many experiences up here in this northern land that feed my soul.  I suffer in this apartment (my friend calls this a Gulag – he is not wrong).  I hate it.  I suffer in this city.  I hate it.

But it is very clear to me that for reasons I don’t even understand, or even NEED to understand, it is not yet time for me to leave here to return south.  But another horror of a North Dakota fierce-wind-driven winter marches closer to me every moment of each of these days.  My escape has been to watch the birds among the reeds.  The rabbits.  The neighbor children playing hide’n’seek there.

To watch the wind shifting among the reeds solaces me.

Now what?  A different kind of hope?

The raving meanness of a material life – when that happens – when “things” tough happen – and people – and other life – get stronger and better for the battles?

When the Pruning happens.  So that new and better life can appear.

Don’t like it necessarily.

Nobody asked me.

++

I may be feeling very fragile and vulnerable right now, but I am NOT helpless.  And, I have a plan.

Sometime in the next few weeks I am going to thin my son-in-law’s packed bed of hardy orange lilies.  I am going to gather a hoard of sturdy roots and I am going to surreptitiously find a way to sneak-plant them at the edge of this cattail area.  I am not going to ask management for permission.  I am not going to risk being told NO.

Once those lilies are in place they will not only survive among their cattail neighbors, they are going to thrive there for as long as these buildings stand and this area is draining water into that muddy place.

Long, LONG after I am gone from here.

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

++++

Leave a Comment »

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

+STUNNED INTO HOPEFULNESS! A MUST-WATCH VIDEO LINK ON HEALING TRAUMA HERE

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Wednesday, October 14, 2015.  Oh my HEAVENS!  I feel as though I have been living all my life in one world, and now that I am discovering this next stage of the evolution of healing human trauma – I am NOW living in an entirely different world!

PLEASE watch/listen to Laura Porter’s talk in this YouTube video!!!

Laura Porter Keynote: NEAR Science & New WA State Resilience Factor Findings

The front image that appears at the start of this video reads:  ACTIVATE – ACCELERATE – TRANSFORM

I have NEVER in my life heard words as glorious as those Laura is speaking here!  (And the Hopi elder’s quote at the end is PRICELESS!)  This is about HEALING trauma through the generations so that before too long – if we ALL pay attention and become informed – FLOURISHING can increase for everyone.

And the steps that must be taken?

WATCH THIS VIDEO!

PLEASE!

I have been waiting all of my LIFE for exactly THIS information!

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

++++

Leave a Comment »

++++

Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

+SOCIAL ENGINEERING A SOCIETY WITHOUT CHILDHOOD TRAUMA?

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Tuesday, October 13, 2015.  Nobody comes to read anything on this blog because it is entertaining.  Nothing about what is presented here is FUN.  Is it enlightening?  In-lightening?

Is there anything that I can say here that turns that inner light of comprehension on for readers?  I don’t know.  What seems to be happening not only for me but for a growing number of people on every “level” of our society is that THE WORK is being increasing defined as it CAN change the world.

Change the world for the better for children – change the world.

I am disappointed with myself that I am not feeling more thrilled about this growing tide of awareness accompanied by facts about damage done to suffering children across their lifespan and about how these situations can begin to REALLY be changed.  Personally, across the decade of involvement in studying these issues I have become tired.

I am not used to such feelings!

As another horrific North Dakota winter approaches, as I have chosen to remain in this tiny apartment (and not yet return south) in a place I do not remotely like, I am beginning to panic.  How will I endure and survive the next 6 months?

I try nearly every moment to override these concerns with asking myself, “What is my useful purpose in being here?”

I don’t really know.

But after taking a look at this article — “Economic Costs of Adverse Childhood Experiences in Alaska: The price of not intervening before trauma occurs” – that my friend sent me this morning I had a concept come into my thoughts that is a new one for me:  SOCIAL ENGINEERING

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Because of the power inherent in such a process, along with possible sinister intentions, I would ordinarily be suspect of supporting such a process.  But isn’t that what ending childhood traumas – as the above article describes — would actually accomplish in the most positive ways possible?

Isn’t this the reason I established this blog in the first place?

Everything we do especially with our children in a society is about engineering them to participate in a society we MUST be in favor of.  If we decide as a society that we no longer wish our children to SUFFER, can we put an end to the conditions that cause this suffering?

Yes.  We can.

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Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.

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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame