Wednesday, August 28, 2024

Rewriting My Life Story

One of many programs I listened to and read about is the therapeutic practice of rewriting your life story, especially if it had been a traumatic one. Here's how mine would begin: 

Once upon a time, I was a tiny egg… fertilized by a sperm. I grew… miraculously… into a human being. (This is the beginning of the first sentence in my book On the Move, Autobiography of a Survivor.

I was loved into existence by a Divine Creator aka Source. Despite what was going on outside the womb, my body developed perfectly in solitude according to its original design. Even if I came in with a belief that I had to be in pain in order to exist, I wouldn't exist if the Creator didn't love me. Even if I came in with a belief that I had to be perfect in order to be loved, I was perfect in the 'eyes' and heart of my Creator.

Life could have been way worse than the one I lived (so far). 
  • I could have been born and raised in a third-world country in a war-torn environment.
  • I could have lived during the holocaust like some of my ancestors did.
  • I could have been harmed by a nuclear explosion.
  • I could have been homeless, living under a bridge somewhere.
  • I could have been raised in a drug-infested slum by drug-addicted or alcoholic parents or been a victim of starvation. Instead, I was raised in nice homes, in nice towns.
  • I could have been sex trafficked, trampled in riots, or any other situation like this. 
  • The physical/emotional abuse was mild compared to what it could have been... even though the trauma dysregulated my nervous system.
  • Financial support programs exist during my lifetime such as social security, disability, Medicare/Medicaid, welfare, food banks, and rental assistance.
It would have been nice if I arrived with an instruction manual on how to deal with the circumstances I agreed to take on, including options for what would provide educational contrast. It would have been nice if I had been conscious of the spiritual committee assigned to me.

Anyway, back to being loved into existence. With meditation, I visualize myself developing perfectly according to the recipe divinely created for me. No matter what I 'see' as thoughts and the stories I made up about these thoughts and experiences, the truth is I developed: 
  • a heart with a circulation system that pumps blood through my body (even with a mitral valve prolapse)
  • five senses (even with less-than-perfect eyesight and hearing)
  • a muscular-skeletal system (even with spina bifida at L5 which progressed to Grade 2-3 Spondylolisthesis)
  • a digestive/elimination system (even with esophagitis, colitis, and food sensitivities)
  • a lymphatic system with a spleen (even with Epstein Barr, adrenal fatigue, and chronic fatigue syndrome)
  • lungs that circulate oxygen and carbon dioxide (even with sleep apnea)
  • a mostly functional brain
  • and more.
According to what I read in the book Earth Angels by Doreen Virtue, PhD, I chose to incarnate as an angel. From the midst beyond, I peered through the atmosphere's window. 


This life was an opportunity to try all kinds of experiences... despite feeling different, separate, and alienated from others.

I eventually learned that everything that happened happened exactly the way it was supposed to. I hereby practice the art of letting go of what no longer serves me.

Friday, July 26, 2024

Project Recovery

Is it possible to recover? 

Unlike many people I know who have successfully been getting therapy of some kind, I've been seeking solutions on my own since 2010. Even though I was seeing words such as codependency and addiction, they weren't really sinking in. Even though I was reading a lot of books relating to mental health, I didn't feel like I was 'recovering'... until I began to find online support groups with the word recovery in them. The word recovery gives me a sense of hope where before I kept slipping back into feeling depressed, isolated, lost, and hopeless.

About two years ago, I found the first group, Spirituality in Recovery through Mile Hi Church in Colorado. My addictions include past use of pharmaceutical drugs, sugar, chocolate, work,  relationships, chaos, and ruminating on losing my ability to walk. This group meets every Wednesday night on Zoom. Each week, we have a different topic. I like the structure of topics. When I first started, I felt detached. Some weeks, I just sat back and listened. Most of the people in the group were recovering alcoholics... which I am not. I'm sure if I could tolerate alcohol, I would be. As time went on, I found I had more to share. I also participated in the Trauma Support Group for Women on the first Wednesday but then decided to focus on the previous group. Scroll down to Support Groups on https://www.milehichurch.org/prayer/

The Covid shutdown pulled the rug out from under me and a lot of other people. Some people 'recovered' quickly. Other people like me didn't; however, I was already used to being isolated... to a certain extent. Many organizations began using Zoom instead of meeting in person. I mentioned my challenges to the facilitator in the first group who suggested In the Rooms (ITR). 

On the ITR website, I found Codependency, Grief, and Relationships with Sophia Caudle. Dr. Sophia stated all addictions have their root in codependency... and that everyone is codependent in some way. I learned the term ambiguous grief. Examples are what I never had in childhood, the empty nest when my son didn't need me anymore at age 12, all the relationships that didn't work out (because I was codependent), all the 'homes' I lost along with the possessions, losing my ability to work due to chronic pain and illness, and struggling with taking care of myself on my own. Here's more information on ambiguous grief:
https://www.mayoclinichealthsystem.org/hometown-health/speaking-of-health/coping-with-ambiguous-grief

ITR also has Trauma and Recovery with Barbara Stromquist (uses Pete Walker's book COMPLEX PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving). One of the first things I discovered in the book was emotional flashbacks which described why I was waking up in the morning feeling abandoned and depressed. Unbeknown to me, I was dreaming about unpleasant situations and waking up in a state of emotions referred to as flashbacks. Once I got this figured out, the intensity of them faded away. Before going to sleep, I ask guardian angels to accompany me and protect me. Flashbacks don’t ever stop happening. You learn skills for managing them. People like Pete Walker and Peter Levine still deal with their stuff but teach the skills they learned in managing them.

In addition to the above two groups, ITR has one for Chronic Pain Anonymous. I was surprised to learn that a 12-step program was developed for this, too. The focus is on the emotional effects of what you are dealing with vs the actual details about your condition(s), doctors, treatments, etc. The main book used in this group is Recipe for Recovery. In this group, a member showed the weighted stuffed animal they use for emotional support. Thus, after much research, I settled on Benji (shown in the above photo). He weighs 5 lbs. 

Last, but not least, is CoDA.org. CoDA is an abbreviation for Co-Dependents Anonymous. Books used in this group include Co-Dependents Anonymous, the Twelve Steps & Twelve Traditions Workbook, and Melody Beattie's The Language of Letting Go. After listening to people describe their dire circumstances, I felt some relief. Despite all of what I've dealt with, I am grateful I didn't have to deal with what they deal with. Two of the statements they use are:

"We have all learned to survive life, but in CoDA we are learning to live life." 

"No matter how traumatic your past or despairing your present may seem, there is hope for a new day in the program of Co-Dependents Anonymous."

In addition to the above meetings, the facilitator I first mentioned has a recovery group through the Center for Spiritual Living, Manatee, Florida. She also has a discussion group for a book, currently The I of the Storm by Gary Simmons which meets twice a month.

Between attending the above meetings, I'd find inspiring information on Facebook and Instagram which I copy into my Journal Highlights book document. I am always amazed by the synchronicity and divine timing that I find them... validating what I hear in the various recovery groups. Here is one:

Myth of Closure: Ambiguous Loss in a Time of Pandemic and Change. How do we begin to cope with loss that cannot be resolved? The COVID-19 pandemic has left many of us haunted by feelings of anxiety, despair, and even anger. In this book, pioneering therapist Pauline Boss identifies these vague feelings of distress as ambiguous loss. This is what we experience when a loss remains unclear and undefined, and thus lingers indefinitely. Now, with a pandemic that has upended the lives of people across the globe, we are collectively experiencing ambiguous loss – loss of trust in the world as a safe place and loss of certainty about our healthcare, education for our children, employment, and the rebuilding of our lives after so much loss. Here, you will find guidance for beginning to cope with this lingering distress, and even learn how this time of pandemic has taught us to tolerate ambiguity, build resilience, and emerge from crises stronger than we were before. https://a.co/d/bqvsfRS

Maybe I am too hard on myself, but I don't feel like I have built resilience yet. I am practicing taking one day at a time... and reminding myself to not give up. 

Friday, March 15, 2024

Who Am I?


Information overload. There is so much overlap between all of the following human characteristics I've been discovering about myself. In observing all these birds, I wonder if any of them wonder who they are. Are any of them comparing themselves with the others? Do any of them feel lost and alone even though they are in community with the others?

I felt overwhelmed with a flare of CPTSD (Complex PTSD) which I can at least understand after reading Pete Walker’s book with the same title and participating in online group meetings.

Add the characteristics of Myers-Briggs INFJ that I identify with: Introverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, and Judging.

I found a good video about INFJs that explains why I struggle to connect with others which eased my mind. I got the following by clicking on the transcript for the video.

INFJs often face challenges due to their yearning for meaningful connections. Unlike those who are satisfied with small talk, INFJs crave conversations and relationships that go beyond the surface level. This innate desire for depth shapes how they navigate the complexities of connections. This can sometimes make them feel isolated because not many people truly comprehend the profoundness of their thoughts and emotions. The real challenge lies in finding individuals who can reciprocate this understanding and value. INFJs may find themselves outgrowing relationships that no longer align with their values or contribute to their well-being.

https://youtu.be/GV1ljIZccSI?si=nQi_Y9GrED6Tofn9

I found two Facebook groups for INFJs where I’ve been learning more about our challenges.

Add HSP (Highly Sensitive Person).

Highly Sensitive Person, or HSP, is a term coined by psychologist Elaine Aron. According to Aron’s theory, HSPs are a subset of the population who are high in a personality trait known as sensory-processing sensitivity, or SPS. Those with high levels of SPS display increased emotional sensitivity, stronger reactivity to both external and internal stimuli—pain, hunger, light, and noise—and a complex inner life.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/highly-sensitive-person

I also found Empaths Empowered, a blog by Diane Kathrine

https://theknowing1.com/

and Introvert Dear, a blog by Jenn Granneman

https://introvertdear.com/

Definitely: a complex inner life. As I wrote in Wrong Planet, I am complex and complicated, fractured and duplicated.

Add: Heyoka Empath – which I wrote about in the previous book, My Quest for Healing.

What a combination! How can I expect someone else to understand me if I can’t understand myself?

I do remember reading somewhere that it is normal for a person to go through different stages in life and not remember previous stages.

INFJ, Introvert, Heyoka Empath, HSP, codependent, grief, plus childhood and adult trauma (CPTSD)... the kitchen sink soup of characteristics that make up this human.

Me to Spirit: How can I obtain peace?

Spirit’s answer: Trust me. Life is not worth living without contrast and challenges.

Part of me is fine, part of me is not. I suppose I only know fine because I have the opposite to compare it to.

I am still searching for aspects of myself I buried over my lifetime.

With synchronicity, I began to read The SOUL of DESIRE. Curt Thompson, MD, wrote:
... underneath all our longings is the desire to be known.

In Chapter 4, Trauma and Shame, he wrote: 
We are a people of grief. In the presence of our desire to be known in order to co-create and become beauty with God and others, we often encounter instead a depth of grief and brokenness  that can make the hope of new creation seem like a cruel joke. It doesn't take a psychiatrist to tell us that grief is the painful emotion we experience in the face of losing something or someone to which we have meaningful attachment. It is no surprise, given the significance of our attachment and social engagement systems, that it will be painful to lose something that provides us with a sense of being seen, soothed, safe, and secure. But knowing this face doesn't make the reality of our loss any easier. // For all our desire, what we often experience is grief resulting from unmet longing. We grieve the loss of things we have had and sometimes the loss of things before we have even had them.

He also wrote about the importance of sharing our stories in group settings... which I began to do by discovering and participating in all the online support groups I've found on CoDA.org, intherooms.com, and uspainfoundation.org... which led to getting into a writing mode once again after a dry spell.

Monday, May 22, 2023

Other Dimensions


I had been feeling depressed and out of sorts for months, followed by suspicions that toxic energy had leaked into my apartment. It seemed that I was fine when I went somewhere else, but I didn't like how my apartment felt when I returned. I thought it was coming from my neighbor who is known to have schizophrenia and hallucinate. They had moved in about two years ago. Before she got back on medication, she had come to my apartment in the middle of the night crying and told me what I knew were hallucinations. As time went on, the energy in my apartment seemed to get more intense.

Years before, I had learned how this can happen... when I lived in a 24-foot trailer in a Bakersfield, California, trailer park. After the seller had come to check up on me, the friend he brought with him left behind unpleasant energy. Back then, I knew a woman through a Reiki group I had been part of who was also a psychic, and I called her. She had informed me that there was, indeed, unfriendly energy (not her exact words) in my trailer and advised me on how to get rid of it. There was another incident in that trailer related to a dream catcher I had hanging in the wrong place, and seeing an etheric image of a body rise up out of mine when I woke up in the middle of the night.

As I worked on this puzzle, I thought about using it for visualization. I even applied it as wallpaper on my phone. I imagine the front part is my living space where I spend my time. It is peaceful, I have a journal to write in, animals to keep me company, and magic. The gate in the back is electrified, keeping what is on the other side out, especially the toxic energies of others. There are angels at the gate that guard it. If anything gets through, the dragons are alerted, swallow it up, and blow it through the gate. Sometimes I have to ask them to vacuum out my apartment and blow the content out through the gate.

The memory of the land we (my ex and I) camped on by Joshua Tree surfaced... when I had the nightmare that claws were ripping through the side of the tent. I was told we were camping on Indian Burial ground.

How is it that I happened to live next door to someone who can see through to other dimensions of reality? How is it that I happened to be friends with a woman who has a son who suffers from the same affliction which is how I knew about it in the first place?

I then remembered the group discussion I attended two to three years ago on various hauntings in Lampasas. The people who attended each had stories about their experiences with area hauntings. How is it that this same building is where I had been going on Thursday nights before the venue closed?

As I continued to process this energy invasion, I remembered coming across information on the Mother's Day flood that occurred back in 1957 before the flood prevention system was built, a system that reaches out to behind my apartment complex. My neighbor's daughter had told me she had seen spirits walking on the bridge at night. I Googled this Mother's Day flood and read that five people had died. Could it be them? 

Maybe the invasion wasn't coming from my neighbor after all. Maybe it was coming from the ones who died and were seen walking on the bridge. And if so, could it be that they were seeking my help? Were they also trying to communicate with my neighbors? 

I was told by another psychic in 2021 that I was connected to the ground and the people buried there. I pulled up my notes from this consultation and reread them, locating a prayer for protection.

Google suggested I call upon Archangel Michael to assist souls in crossing over. I also sprinkled salt on the floor by my front door. The energy inside feels much better now. 

What is next? The random events from over the years included my seeing two spirit guides... twice... about 20 years apart. The first time, I participated in an introduction to becoming an empath and felt the discomfort of the emotional turmoil the person in front of me was experiencing. The teacher had told me to look over her left shoulder to see if a guide appears. A young one did followed by an old man with a long beard. I was advised to ask this guide what was happening with the woman and received an answer telepathically. When I relayed this answer to the woman in front of me, she said it was correct. Then the guide telepathically told me to tell her that it would all work out. However, I didn't attend any more classes.

Then I was prescribed heavy medications that I took for about 15 years for chronic pain, some of which could have been what I was collecting from others. 

In 2008, I saw these guides again when I was in Walmart picking up more medication... the young one by the last cash register, the old one by the front automatic doors. I was suffering from hopelessness and depression. On the way home, the bag on my passenger seat tipped over, and I reached out to grab it. The next thing I was conscious of was my truck being in the ditch and everything in it flying at me... and how happy I felt. The truck was totaled, and I didn't have any bruises or other wounds. This probably sounds crazy, but I don't believe I was in the truck when it crashed.

The common denominator of several of these incidents was feelings of hopelessness. Could it be that is when the doors to the spiritual world open for me? 

----

Update: They all moved out the end of March 2024.

Tuesday, May 9, 2023

The Stories Behind the Songs

Introduction


Thank you for your interest in this book. I am writing it with a surge of courage and hope. I am 67 this year. I recently experienced a wake-up call when someone I’ve known for years died in a car accident. She was only in her early 50s. What was I waiting for?

You may have seen me riding a mobility scooter around. My spine slipped halfway off my sacrum as a result of the birth defect Spina Bifida Occulta at L5. I am not sure when it slipped or when L5 bilaterally fractured away from the pars. I found out about the slip when I was almost 50, and I found out about the fracture in 2019 when I was 63.

The first pain management doctor I went to when I was 43 thought I had muscular sclerosis, so he kept doing MRIs of my neck and brain stem. Seven years later, I found the word spondylolisthesis on an accident report from when I was 21. Talk about being misdiagnosed. Then I fell back off a chair I was standing on to reach the top shelf of a bookcase and jarred my lower back. My legs went to sleep and didn't wake up again for about five years.

As a pain management doctor, he didn’t believe in surgery (fusion) and prescribed a lot of potent medications to deal with the discomfort. These medications had side effects, so additional medications were prescribed.

I had to change pain management doctors after I fell, and this new one didn’t believe in fusion surgery either nor did he believe in prescribing medication. He introduced me to alternative treatments while I continued to get prescription refills from my primary care doctor.

After I moved to Texas in November 2006, I was sent to another surgeon. His assistant told me he enlarged my X-rays. If they put screws in my spine, the vertebrae would crumble within ten years, and I’d be a lot worse than I am now.

In July of 2010, I had a supernatural experience of being told telepathically to go to ‘the’ laundromat. I lived halfway between two locations, and in my mind, asked which one. The answer was the one in Copperas Cove where I met a psychic high priestess who told me, “You’re asleep, it’s time to wake up!” As a result, I refused to swallow any more pills… and got myself into a big mess that lasted way too many years.

I consider it a miracle that I am still alive, off all medications, and have a wonderful apartment in a senior community.

During the manic/adrenaline high, I was able to walk again, and a telepathic voice told me to use the talents I was blessed with. I began writing non-stop both stories and songs.

In 2019, whatever courage and self-confidence I had acquired vanished with my ability to walk after I jarred my lower back again… twice. If you are one of the extroverts out there, I admire and envy your ability to perform in front of other people.

The purpose of this book is to introduce you to my songs, explain the reason I am not performing, and hopefully inspire you or another musician to perform one or more of them for me. I’d also be interested in hearing your version of what I created.

As time went on, I learned a few things about myself which eased much of my self-conscious conclusions. I’m an introvert, an empath, and a Myers-Briggs INFJ. It turns out that INFJ stands for introverted, intuitive, feeling, and judging. The person I judge the most is myself. We are our own worst critics.

According to Google, there are apparently only one and a half percent of us (INFJs) on the planet. But I know this is only the ones who took the test. INFJ types are compassionate, idealistic, and likely to form close bonds with people. However, I am just beginning to form close bonds with people as where I live now is the longest I have lived anywhere, so there's hope for me yet.

When I was in grade school, I was offered a loaned viola by the music department of the school and learned how to play the instrument while learning how to read music which gave me a group of people to join with an orchestra and later a quartet. The girl who played violin in our quartet was accepted into the Boston Symphony Orchestra. When my extended family came to visit, I was asked to play for them. I did but as an anxious introvert. I felt relieved when I entered middle school aka Junior High, had to return the loaned instrument, and soon forgot how to read music. With babysitting money, I bought my first acoustic folk guitar and taught myself how to play chords. I had been writing poetry, and poetry developed into folk-type songs.

I almost threw a lot of the early songs away until I met a seasoned musician at the beginning of 2012 who also worked in recording studios and participated in songwriting guilds. After he expressed admiration for my talent, he explained that I am not the only unhappy person on the planet, and others would want to hear the songs I wrote.

In 2012, when I made the trip out to California to go to my son’s wedding, I was able to recover some of these songs from the cassette recordings I had made in my earlier years. I had given the cassette to my older sister, and she kept everything.

This musician was only in my life for a year, but he recommended I purchase a Zoom 8-track recorder and taught me how to record multiple tracks. I used an electronic keyboard on other instrument settings for some of these tracks. Some of my songs include them. I wish I had written more notes on how I mixed down the tracks when I completed a song because I can’t remember how I did it.

During the manic/adrenaline high, I got curious about my great uncle Louis Alter and reached out to his daughter (my second cousin) about royalties, etc. (My father was the black sheep of his family, so we didn't have the advantage of their wealthier lifestyle.)

Uncle Lou began playing piano for silent films when he was 12. He is well known for writing and composing Manhattan Serenade. Conductors are still buying his songs for the orchestras they work with. My cousin's husband told me that music was a business and recommended the book This Business of Music. Yes, they were still getting royalties. All I was able to accomplish was the copyrighting process.

There are many songs I have not included in this book. I did mention I had thrown some away. Songwriting wasn’t a continuous thing. There could be years between writing them. I was mainly focused on working in unrelated careers, taking unrelated college classes, raising my son, and more.

As for the love songs, I was reluctant to include them but did anyway. I didn't want to be reminded of what I eventually learned is a codependent mindset, including false attractions and trauma bonding. I learned that expecting someone else to love you when you don't love yourself doesn’t work. I also found out that empaths attract narcissistic people and energy vampires which explained many of the messes I got myself into. You can read about them in a few of my books (memoirs and autobiography). Some songs started out as love songs, but I later changed the words to create a different type of song vs tossing them out altogether.

It is now 2023. I had the opportunity to meet some other songwriters who also perform. Just as my physical condition became more challenging to deal with, the venue I was going to closed. I considered this divine timing. At this time, the places these musicians meet as a group, including the upper-level porch of someone's home, are not accessible for me. And by now you know the reason I do not attend local performances where there are crowds of people with the exception of a rare few.

I have hopes of possibly making it further with the songs while I am still alive. My fantasy is that one or more of my songs will attract the attention of one or more well-known artists who will take them out into the world.

You can listen to many of my songs here: https://soundcloud.com/reneealter085

The book will be available on Amazon within a few days.

Saturday, January 7, 2023

One of Me

 \

Image from https://pasterski.com/2018/10/internal-family-systems-meet-your-inner-family/

This is a continuation of what I began writing about years ago after reading and listening to Richard Schwartz Ph.D. No Bad Parts aka Internal Family Systems. I liked learning that no matter how many parts of me there are, none of them are bad… not even the angry, judgemental ones. I have to get to know who they are and love them instead of doing what I have always done… push them away. I have also learned that everyone has parts.

To refresh your memory (and mine), I fell into a depressive episode for about six months when I got sick in June resulting in three weeks of isolation while I holed up in my bedroom in bed. Multiple voices in my head surfaced, competing for my attention at the same time. Some of these voices were angry, sad, lonely, and scared. I learned from that experience that I needed a bench sofa I could rest and nap on in my living room and only use the bedroom at night. I found one that works on Amazon.

At the end of 2006, I had moved to Texas and then got stuck here on my own. Abandonment issues magnified, and it took over five years to find a home, people, and groups I was comfortable being involved with. Holidays are the worst. I get homesick. Just as I was recovering from being sick, Thanksgiving and Christmas floated in. I felt left out of all the holiday gatherings I saw other people enjoying.

If you're reading this and were one of the people who showed up at my door or called me, thank you!

I gave up trying to make sense of the terminology for IFS (Internal Family Systems) that includes exiles, protectors, managers, etc. and in a fit of frustration, demanded these ‘parts’ get out of my head and sit on other chairs in my apartment. When I felt them all inside my head creating chaos and despair (like the picture on top), I began to tell them to go sit down where I can see them and listen to what they need to say. Somehow it worked, and I no longer felt like I would go insane with numerous voices inside my head. After describing this to one of my younger sisters, she suggested I write a blog post on the topic.

I like the term One of Me. It describes the detachment I feel when one part of me is functioning and the other parts are not.

One of Me is a workaholic. I used to work full-time jobs plus take college classes, eventually obtaining a Bachelor's Degree in Management Information Systems. Working and studying was my medicine (when I wasn't taking the pharmaceutical kind)... a distraction from the emotions and feelings I couldn't deal with. Post-disability, as long as I had projects to work on, I was okay. You can say I am addicted to distractions.

One of Me is a lonely, abandoned, traumatized, scared child… afraid of the outside world… afraid of the unknown. She looks at people on Facebook who are having fun with their families… even traveling to be with them… and doing activities she can no longer do… like hiking and exploring. She sits down and cries inside because she is grieving for the family she no longer has even though her siblings live in other states. She also grieves for places she can no longer go. Isolation is painful. How did she survive all these years?

Indeed, One of Me is a survivor. Despite all the traumatic experiences, she is still here. Still breathing. The Divine has been by her side making sure she has her basic needs… food, shelter, transportation… even when she detached (disassociated) and couldn't feel the support.

One of Me is a dreamer. She used to dream of a future that includes fame with writing and music... and traveling in a nice RV.  Is it still possible? I don't know. I am older now.

One of Me experiences chronic conditions such as adrenal fatigue and spondylolisthesis and needs someone to take care of her and help with chores. Community Attendant Services didn’t work out, so she is on her own again. At least the Divine brought a Mobility Scooter and a van with a lift.

One of Me is an educated adult who knows what to do for the other one. She tells her to lie down and rest as much as she needs to and just tackle one thing at a time. Nothing is permanent, not even fatigue. Since fatigue usually partners with depression, reassure her that it is temporary. She usually begins feeling better in the afternoon.

One of Me is a compassionate adult who listens to other people when they call or come to her with their concerns. She is also an empath and can't always release the emotions she absorbs from others. She has to learn to differentiate what is hers from what is others and clear the others out. Towards the end of this last depressive episode, it occurred to me that I can listen to the other One of Me's the same way I listen to other humans... with a sense of detachment.

YouTube is smart and suggests videos to you based on everything else you have been watching, reading, writing, purchasing, and listening to. I opened the YouTube app one day and found the audiobook Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It by Kamal Ravikant. Then I purchased the book. 

On another day, I found an interview with Bruce Lipton on his Biology of Belief. Bruce said to incorporate the affirmations into your subconscious, listen to them as you go to sleep. I created a playlist for Sleep with two "I love myself" videos so it would stop after the second one. I am usually awake during the first one and fall asleep as the second one plays.

YouTube also suggested Wayne Dyer's The Power of Intention audiobook which I listened to twice. Perhaps YouTube talks to Amazon and knows I had purchased the book. “I intend to feel good. I intend to feel happy. I intend to choose thoughts that make me feel good. There is a solution to every problem." I rewrote my personal affirmation list to include these and to read throughout the day.

I found two Wednesday night online support groups through Mile Hi Church in Colorado: Transcending Trauma and Heart, Mind, Spirit Recovery. (The ministers at that church were originally in Huntington Beach, California when I lived there.) Trauma meets the first Wednesday, Recovery every Wednesday. While Recovery is mainly for alcoholics and drug addicts, I qualify because I took strong pharmaceutical drugs for close to 15 years. Besides, I am addicted to sugar which is known to be as addicting as cocaine. What do I want the most when I feel depressed? Sugar! I know what it feels like to want it even though I know it isn't good for me. It feeds candida which is not my friend. I do my best to avoid gatherings that serve sweets. Wish they would serve organic fruit instead.

Back to Transcending Trauma. The facilitator told us grief gets mixed in with trauma. I could think of a whole list of things I’ve been grieving about. Loss of childhood, loss of my siblings as I knew them, loss of my parents, loss of homes, loss of relationships and marriages which turned out to be dysfunctionally matched with me as the empath and them as narcissists and energy vampires, loss of possessions when I had to walk away from everything, loss of all the foods I discovered I had sensitivities to and had toxins such as glyphosates, loss of the social circles that serve these foods. 

Grief changes you. You don't ever go back to what used to be normal. No wonder I feel detached and disassociated. Instead of clinging to what used to be, I have to completely let go. I have to incorporate my Sky-Diving principle. Yes, there is fear in the unknown, but trust that I will land safely. I found a few groups on Facebook and Instagram on the topic of grieving which have been helpful. They say that eventually, you figure out a new way to exist. Fortunately, I can use the search on my blog to find topics I wrote about in the past but have no memory of.

Well, One of Me writes songs and strums an acoustic folk guitar. A song titled Wrong Planet began to emerge, describing my challenges as simply being on the wrong planet. I began to hum it when I go into the outside world or even think about going out there, and it feels comforting. 

The lyrics to Wrong Planet 

I’m visiting from another planet, observing earthling ways.
My ship left without me – said they’d return for me someday.
I have trouble fitting in with people in this place.
How do I explain that my ship got lost in space?

I’m on the wrong planet – and I need to find some friends.
I’m on the wrong planet – can’t keep up with the trends.
I need someplace to belong because earth isn’t it.
I look around this strange land where I don’t seem to fit.

I feel complex and complicated, fractured and duplicated.
How did I end up here in this place that’s overrated?
Show me love; show me grace; be kindness in this place.
My heart cries for the sadness that invades the human race.

My mind is like a mansion – it has a lot of rooms.
Let’s take a tour together to find our way out of this gloom.
It’s part of a life lesson… I’m writing a new theme.
Where will it lead me… just nothing too extreme.

There are ripples in the water, life is never still –
and neither are emotions that tumble down the hills.
I emptied out my closet, but I wish I could empty out my mind.
Boxes all shapes and sizes are filled with memories of every kind.

Courage, I know you’re somewhere; I’m searching for a dose.
I’m on the outside looking in, but I can feel you somewhere close.
I feel like a dreamer – can you read between the lines?
I’m a mysterious collection of rhythms and rhymes.

I’m on the wrong planet – and I need to find some friends.
I’m on the wrong planet – and I need to find some friends.
I’m on the wrong planet – and I need to find some friends.

Copyright © 2022 Renee Alter

Sunday, August 14, 2022

Five Minutes at a Time

Sometime in June, I came down with something that affected my mind and emotions. I was so tired that I spent a lot of time in bed, isolated from the outside world, which didn't help. I had to do something I wasn't used to doing... asking people for help... which forced me into acknowledging I had people in my life I COULD ask for help. I've been trying to remember what it was like to just get into my vehicle and go somewhere by myself. These days, I want someone to go with me.

I finally purchased a loveseat for my living room I can lie down on during the day. There is more daylight streaming through double windows and my storm doors. 

It could have been a bought of adrenal fatigue because it followed being startled by a major disappointment, thunder, driving back from an event in the dark in two scary spots on the highway, and more. Anyway, I am still climbing back out of it again... mid-August.

How? Five minutes at a time. I got through yesterday, last week, last month, last year, and all the years before that. 

What can I do for five minutes?

Five minutes doesn't feel as overwhelming as getting through an entire day. Five minutes to prepare a meal. Five minutes to wash the dishes. Five minutes to read from a book. Five minutes to work on a jigsaw puzzle. Five minutes on social media. Five minutes to refill my water distilling machine. Five minutes to get into the shower (which inevitably lasts for 30 minutes). You get the idea.

At the end of the day, I celebrate that I got through it. When I wake up the next morning I celebrate that I made it through the night, especially if I had slept four-five hours straight.

I know I am not the only person dealing with grief, sadness, helplessness, and loss of purpose.  Before I sunk into this episode, I felt like I DID have a purpose. But then it all seemed to disappear. I knew this was typical of a depressive episode and would have to ride it out. 

In the meantime, I had been reading Joan Rosenberg's book 90 Seconds to a Life You Love: How to Master Your Difficult Feelings to Cultivate Lasting Confidence, Resilience, and Authenticity.

I recognized that I didn't want to face the unpleasant feelings I was dealing with. I didn't know how to let them rise to the surface so I could deal with them. Being sick and bedbound didn't allow me to do my usual activities of distraction. I think I lived with all of this for at least three weeks. The only bodily sensation I felt was nausea on top of sneezing, congestion, and fatigue.

Rosenberg states the eight common unpleasant feelings include: sadness, shame, helplessness, anger, embarrassment, disappointment, frustration, and vulnerability. She also used the term soulfully depressed... the result of feeling disconnected from yourself. These are also 'ingredients' to disguised grief. The first thing that came up for me was all the times in the past I had been sick, bedbound, alone, and isolated. However, I also had to acknowledge that I am a lot healthier now than I used to be... even though I occasionally still get sick. With the disappointment scenario, I sunk into ruminating about not being good enough, loveable enough... also known as self-love deficit... which I also knew was no longer true.

Dr. Rosenberg created The Rosenberg Reset™ in which you allow one or more of these feelings into your consciousness for 90 seconds... because that is all it takes to face them and dissolve them. One is supposed to notice where in their body they feel sensations. Perhaps the 'distraction' is counting to 90.

Even though I wrote up a previous list of what I wanted to create in my life, I started a new one... two weeks ago. Even though I have made previous gratitude lists, I started a new one. Feel free to use this content to create your own list.

HEALTH-STRENGTH-VITALITY: What it FEELS like to be strong and healthy. Keep myself healthy while I wait for what I am ALLOWING to flow to me. Prepare healthy meals and exercise (even 5 minutes at a time).

EMOTIONAL: Connection, belonging, confidence, joy, quality companionship (emotional support, understanding, shared interests and values), helpers, safety and security, and meaningful conversations. The courage to climb above past introvert tendencies.

PURPOSE: Being here when someone needs a person to talk to. Volunteering for non-profits, meaningful work, raise my vibration. (My younger sister reminded me I only need to do this one notch to notice a difference.)

VISIONS & DREAMS: I live where all the right people can find me. People reading my books and my blog... and sharing with others so they read my books and blog. What it feels like to work with a psychologist who opens a center here... and has a lot of articles and manuscripts that need to be completed. Abundance.

EVENTS: (for authors): Perfect, comfortable transportation (and companionship) including drivers.

SOCIAL: Visits from non-profit people. Open mic nights for fellow poets, writers, and musicians. I AM cultivating friendships with people I already know and visualizing new people coming into my life. I am waiting for new neighbors to move in who provide what I listed under EMOTIONAL.

LOOK FOR THE EVIDENCE OF EVERYTHING WORKING OUT FOR ME. The first week of August, I had callers and visitors daily -- even from two people I hadn't heard from in a long time... a very unusual occurrence for me. One of these people came to pick up something I had done for someone else who came the day before (postcards to remind gardeners of our annual meeting). He reminded me that when two or more people are gathered in His name, results happen. I wasn't the only one praying for results (wheelchair accessibility for the community garden). He reminded me that just existing gives me purpose. He projected me as being so much more than what I had projected for myself. New people I am interested in networking with joined our community garden.

One day at a time. Five minutes at a time.

What are ways you cope with difficult days?