A Stripper Named Autumn

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

The peak of fall foliage season here in Minnesota has now passed.  Many of the trees still have leaves on them.  I frequently notice them when I am outside.  Some leaves cling completely alone on branches that are otherwise bare.  They twirl and flutter in harsh gusts of wind.  Other trees are already completely bare.  I find myself beginning to more and more appreciate the color green as it rapidly fades away.

Autumn is most certainly the ‘stripper’ of the seasons.  Autumn is that time of year when we are reminded of the wisdom and necessity of occasionally letting go.  We simply must let go of the old if we are to be open to the new.  Such has it always been.

The current glitch in my own recovery process has also reminded me of the stripping time of autumn.  It’s quite obvious I have felt a bit stressed as of late.  When I become overly stressed it is easy for me to feel spacey, struggle concentrating on what are usually simple tasks and even feel a bit jittery.  These are not fun sensations to have.  A few times in the last week I have caught myself fearing that I might experience a genuine relapse in my progress.  Thankfully I have been able to step outside the swirl of my thoughts and decisively focus on what must be done to ensure I fulfill my basic needs first and foremost.

……

One of the immense gifts of my current health insurance coverage is the fact that my policy provides transportation assistance to and from medical appointments.  I am currently in a taxi cab on my way to my appointment with my therapist. 

I am going to have plenty to share tonight.  How it is that sixteen months of diligent work could be at serious risk of loss after a mere two weeks of excess hardship doesn’t really seem possible.  Is my recovery really that vulnerable to an unexpected setback of limited time duration?  I would like to think that it isn’t.  But I can still tell where some of my core wounds came from.  Disappointing periods such as the last two weeks remind me that I rarely felt I had someone reliable I could go to as a child when I felt hurt, upset, scared or confused.  My father lived in such a realm of denial.  Looking back I have come to believe he simply could not see how much harm he had caused by some of the poor choices he made.

There is essentially nothing I can do about that past history now.  I need to find a way to mourn what never was so I can open myself more fully to what can still be.  There is so much potential in my future life.  I need only focus and find the support I need to realize it.

And yet I still feel the anxiety and frustration that is not uncommon to those recovering from trauma.  Healing is sometimes a massive project.  Healing from deep trauma is not for the faint of heart.

Post Script

Fifty Day Challenge, Day #33

Healthy activities for my day:

• I went to see my therapist
• I continued to do my best to pace myself 
• I paid mindful attention to the stream of my thoughts and reminded myself I can consciously choose how I respond to difficult situations