Thursday, 18 December 2014

Coming to Terms by Susan L.

  There was some conversation amongst the visitors at the centre. Actually, it was more of a trip down memory lane. It disturbed me that even though I was there when the events discussed took place, I have absolutely no recollection of them. In exploring the recent past, there are huge chunks that are missing.
  For me, this is the hardest part of having mental health challenges. The lost days, as I have come to call them, are simply part of my history that I'll have to come to terms with. The reasons are understandable for these missing memories. Getting through the day while struggling against depression by operating in survival mode doesn't leave much room for memories to be remembered. The powerful, all consuming, inner memory pain of PTSD swallows current events and they vanish like the mist. The teeth on that particular dog have been dulled. Praise God!
  There are snapshots recollections of events that took place during these dark days but they are almost like someone else's history. I suppose in truth they were. I am not the same woman I was.
  The memory loss could be God's way of protecting me from the worst of things. They were pretty bad at times.
  Thank You, Lord, I think I can finally let go of this now.
  Which leads me to be extremely grateful this Christmas for how well I am feeling. The biggest hunk of that is not being afraid of my own mind, that my wellness will collapse again. I realize it might in the future but I am wiser in knowing when to reach out for help. I won't wait as long as I did in the spring before conferring with my psychiatrist should another dip in mental health occur. There's a confidence that wasn't there before, a trust that I'll know what to do.
  For now, excitement has replaced anxiety. Joy and contentment have settled into my psyche like a warm and fuzzy blanket. Making music releases the good endorphins that are helping to offset the fact it's dark by five and, as I mentioned yesterday, it's a good de-stressor.
  I had my bangs coloured last week: a deep red for Christmas. For a long, long time I wanted to do something funky like this with my hair. It's funny how such a little thing can create an extra dose of confidence. It means all the reasons, the lies believed, that stopped me from doing this before don't matter any more...Thank You, Lord, for setting me free again.
  "For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved." Jn 3:16
 

2 comments:

  1. For what it's worth, not remembering also happens to those of us who don't have trauma in the background. I sometimes talk to friends and I mention something I remember that they were involved with and they haven't a clue what I am talking about. Same in reverse - "Hey Cin, remember that day when…." And I stand there like a deer in the headlights because I don't remember. Selective memory, I guess.

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    1. Thanks Cindy. You're right. It's good to know I am "normal"!

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