Falling
When I returned from Wellington, I thought I was making my way out of the abyss. Things seemed more settled, and my thinking clearer.
I was wrong.
During the past week I have reconnected with dysfunctional people from my past; and set-up emotional scenarios which mirror different aspects of my past.
I’m a train wreck.
I’m trying to live in the present, and failing. The past has begun haunting me with a vengeance.
I would tell you how my week has been; but I don’t know, it’s a blank. I see from my tweets that there was a problem over the weekend with a neighbour… my hair has been cut… I see from emails that I was concerned about friends… I had Christmas cards to put in the post today, so things were getting done… I was appearing normal. But, I don’t remember it. There’s jumbled glimpses of other things… putting on trackies when I was getting cold talking to a friend on the phone Friday night… It’s Monday, right? That means I need to get the rubbish ready to put out tomorrow… Panic in the mall on Saturday… I hate Allison… Take the team at work to afternoon tea on Thursday, but tell them they can go downtown for an hour if they want – one small way I can make up for them not getting a bonus… I don’t trust anyone… Why is our work Christmas function in a sports bar?
Just a mess of thought fragments being tossed around my head.
I was scrolling through my YouTube playlists, and came across this piece which calmed me briefly…
If I’m falling, I wonder where I’ll land?
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Now playing: Arvo Part – Spiegel Im Spiegel
via FoxyTunes
PDF Murmuration
I came across the word “murmuration” today, and stumbled across this video. I don’t know if it’s the music, the dance of the starlings, or both… but I found it calming, so thought I’d share it.
Thanks to Frank and the @postsecret team for the tweet that piqued my interest.
Late edit: If you hadn’t already tried it, it’s great to watch in full-screen :)
Amazing Grace
It’s considered to be one of the most recognisable songs in the English-speaking world. It’s also the only song that is almost guaranteed to make me cry.
If you’re not familiar with the origins of Amazing Grace, it was written by John Newton, an English poet and clergyman, and is a song of forgiveness and redemption. It is considered to be a Christian hymn, and is sometimes played at funerals, often by a solo bagpiper. John Newton was involved in the slave trade; but on a particularly rough voyage, he began his spiritual journey. Amazing Grace was written for a New Years Day service in 1773; and has been known to be sung to over 20 different melodies, as it is unknown if the there was any music to accompany it on début. It’s now most closely associated with the tune “New Britain”, and can be sung acapella, with music, or as an instrumental.
What I find interesting about this song, is that despite it’s Christian overtones, I still strongly identify with it. I don’t believe that I will ever be forgiven for what I have done, or that I will ever be redeemed; instead, for me, the song is about grief. It’s about pain and releasing that pain. It’s about death.
There are many versions of the song available… some of the more popular ones on YouTube are by the Celtic Women, Elvis Presley, British Airways Pipe Band and Hayley Westernra (a fellow kiwi). One of my favourite vocal versions is by LeAnn Rimes…
I’m unsure about the reasons why I am seeking this song out at the moment. I’m still in a very bad place, and this is one of the songs that I want played at my funeral – another is by ABBA, just to make people laugh. So am I adding to the pit that I am in by listening to this, or am I releasing the grief and pain that I feel? I’m not really sure.
There are so many thoughts floating through my head, that it’s difficult to make sense of them. I know that I’m sucked dry. I’ve been running on empty for about four months now, and it doesn’t look as if it’s going to improve any time soon. I know my safety is a huge issue, and I was expecting Allison to send me to hospital last week… instead there was a misunderstanding, and I shut down. Any glimmers of trust that were starting to be built, have gone.
I’m trying not to be reactionary, but it’s difficult. After the session on Friday, I created this Polyvore set…
What’s interesting, is that the rabbit is looking in a mirror… is the set saying that Allison was at fault, I was, or we both were? Is this about me seeing the reflection of my dysfunctional behaviour, and not liking it? Or is it a cute graphic about no one being perfect, no matter how hard we try? I wish I knew…
Open fire
A song about eating disorders; pain; societal expectations; seeing and feeling the dirt no one else can see…
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Now playing: Silverchair – Ana’s Song (Open Fire)
via FoxyTunes
Chillout song
I found this today… Simple and soothing.
The story of how this song came about can be found here.
Angel
It’s been a hard few weeks… I’m struggling to make sense of this world and my role within it. At the moment it seems a pointless and never ending downward spiral. I’ve been told that I haven’t hit the bottom yet; but if this isn’t it, I don’t want to know what the bottom is going to look like.
Tomorrow is the funeral for our work mate… I still can’t believe she is gone. A former work mate came into work yesterday and told me of her final hours… the pain, screaming and finally, the coma. Within the context of our consistent suicidal issues, I’m finding it difficult to reconcile her pain and passing. Surely if this was a just world, we would be the one being buried tomorrow. We have no hopes or dreams… no plans for the future…
In the midst of this self-pity and confusion, we turn to music for comfort… In particular, Sarah McLachlan’s Angel… It soothes and has special meaning for us…
Paul over a MindParts said in his latest posting… “Perhaps I am meant to heal. Perhaps I am meant to live.” I used to have an idea of what “healing” and “living” would look like, but now I’m not so sure… I’m not sure of anything anymore…
Reading this over, I realise that it’s about as pointless as the post we deleted earlier today. But there is a drive to post something here today, I don’t know why. I’ll turn comments off, as I see this as self absorbed and pathetic…
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Now playing: Sarah McLachlan – Angel
via FoxyTunes
ACC
We have to do another ACC assessment to continue getting assistance… As a result we’ve been playing “angry” music. This song in particular, fits nicely…
Small and scared
Yesterday the safety of the respite house came under question. We left to spend the day with the mother, mainly to test how well we are. It turns out we’re still not all that grounded or well…
When we returned we found that a new client had arrived at the respite house. This was fine, they are female and seemingly non-threatening. So we went down to our room to drop off some things, only to find that someone had been in and used our art supplies. The young ones were so upset about this boundary violation. Little Michelle came forward and looked around in tears. This may seem like an over-reaction considering nothing had been destroyed, but it was the young ones who had their things moved and used. M was prepared for our iPod to have been stolen, and it would have had less impact if that’s what had happened. The iPod is mainly for the teens and adults, we could have coped better than the invasion on the young ones things.
Then at night the new client went on a severe binging and purging cycle. It was awful for her, she’d felt so positive during the day. For us it was a huge trigger. We have food issues as well, not to the level of the new client, but her pain and acting out was enough to trigger us through the roof.
So our safe house doesn’t feel so safe anymore. We know it was the carers grandson who used our art things, we know the mother is trying and we know the new client is trying to work through their problems. But we feel so small and scared. We feel like we’ve taken a huge step backwards.
Stand by me
I was 24 when I last talked to the father. It was during my first year of being on-campus at university and I’d agreed to stay with him for a long weekend. He hadn’t been contributing to our care since the divorce when we were 16, but we still a sense of duty to him because… well, he is the father. To say that the weekend was a disaster, would be an understatement. He lived alone in a cold, small, two bedroom semi-detached house situated at the bottom of a hill. The house felt dirty, but I think that was our association of his dirtiness getting mixed up in the perception of the house. He had become a bitter, mean old man who took pleasure in putting others down and feeding his narcissistic desires. He was not pleasant to be near.
In a move similar to asking the mother to leave when she came to visit, I left the father’s house earlier than planned. I couldn’t cope with him. The day I left I knew that I would not be able to see him again as he was too toxic. I grieved on the drive home… grieved for the father I realised I would never have, and the one I was now leaving behind. While listening to the radio during the drive, a song came on that started the tears – Stand by me by Ben E. King. To me, the song is about being strong enough to face the darkness of your fears, as long as there is someone standing beside you. During that car trip, this was particularly meaningful… I knew I was about to tell the family about my decision to no longer have contact with the father. I also knew that I was probably going to have to confront the father as well.
At the time I was living alone – I didn’t even have Winnie (our cat). So, I knew that there would be no one standing beside me, instead it would be up to the dissociative system to come together in a meaningful way to protect us all. This was at a time when I had no working knowledge of my dissociation, but I remember the internal conversations which evolved as I was taking the long trip home… There was fear, screaming, celebrations and physical pain caused by tension… But then, in a shift that I’ve now come to identify as M taking over, there was a sudden calmness and knowledge of what needed to be done. This calmness allowed Sophie to listen to the song and begin our grieving. I don’t think we fully explored the grief, but the song allowed us to cry for things we wouldn’t have and to get to a place of accepting what was happening.
When we got home, we made the necessary phone calls to the family. I don’t remember much about that time, but I do remember slamming the phone down on the father with the parting words that he and I had “never been able to talk”. I have seen him since that time – grandfather’s funeral etc. We’ve tried to be civil to him, purely out of fear and not wanting to cause more trouble within the family. But I know that under that veneer of civility, Frank is waiting to tell the father just what damage he has done. I also know that such a discussion would be pointless, as he is incapable of seeing his own faults and it would only serve to frustrate us further.
There have been other versions of the song done, but it’s Ben E. King’s version that affects us the most…
