Buy Some PlayDough; Play

I was surprised to see this blog selected as one of the top fifty blogs shedding light on PTSD. Thank you mastersinpsychology.com. My friend Jaliya was also highlighted by this group and is in top 50 as well. Kudos, my friend. Keep up the great work. Your blog is amazing.

I was also surprised that the review indicated that i hadn't written for a year!! My goodness! Where did i go?

I guess I've been ill the past year. Last Nov. i had a car accident. Early morning; dense fog. I was lucky. Physically. The air bag did not employ but there was 10,000 in damage. I went through a stop and slid across a HIGHWAY (if you can believe it) dropped into a gully and then went bouncing up, ploughing into a field of corn!

Mentally? It brought up some repressed memories which now i see as having happened, clear as a bell. I am saddened by this and feel like one more thing has plopped on me. One more pile of pigeon poop to process. It was at this point i thought i'd try to find a therapist. Recommended to me - some Jungian psychoanalyst - blah, blah, blah - "tell me everything". You know, i'm sick of talking about "it". Talking about "it" MAKES me sick. After my appt. i was in bed for a couple of days in a fetal position - WHO NEEDS THAT. I am so sick of talk therapy. Literally.

I seemed to have one thing after another this past year - flu, cold, teeth probs and then a nasty, nasty few months with depression. I had suicidal ideation and racing thoughts and needed intervention mid year. Doctor and i chose to try "Seroquel" (sp) but it was overwhelming. I decided i'd rather have racing thoughts than no thought at all!!! I was a zombie for an entire week before i stopped taking them. If i didn't have the support i do with family, i would probably have to take that drug just to survive the day. Without support in identifying options, sometimes there are no choices. Being a zombie becomes the best response to crippling fear, anxiety that chokes, depression that never ends. The guilt is bloody paralyzing. No, i don't have cancer - no, i haven't been given six months to live. No, no Parkinson's. Sorry, no MS and no, no, no, - I'm just MENTAL and, yes, it's my own bloody fault. Sometimes i feel that way even though i know it's not true.

Comprehension is down; fatigue is oppressive. Confusion. Lost in the kitchen. Lost in the laundry room. Crying in the bedroom because i'm lost.

But life has ups, despite me and my MENTALness!!! A new grandson born Sept. 10th and he is a doll. Third child for D and P; brother to N. and I. Babies affirm life's promises for innocence, trust and joy. My granddaughter (age 3) started soccer. Her team is called "The Muffies" - how cute is that! Eldest grandson is, as always, a total delight but is now a mischievous devil, seven year old smartypants!!

TAKE/EAT/DRINK IMMUNE BOOSTERS.
BREATHE
SELF-CARE
BE OK WITH NOT BEING OK
BUY PLAY-DOUGH; PLAY.

Sigh. Nice to be back.
h.