Grief

Breathe Through It

Miss Poison December, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I’ve always wondered what the hell is wrong with the majority of the people in this world. For some unknown reason, they believe caffeine, sunshine, fresh air, a glass of water, or a cup of tea will magically solve ALL of your problems. If only it were so simple!

Have you ever felt better when someone says, “You need to calm down?” Of course, not. It’s so rarely said with good intentions. Usually, it is said to stop you from talking, or to shut a situation down. FUCK THAT.

I recently had a panic attack that was so bad, I had to keep telling myself, “Just breathe through it.” repeatedly. For hours. No, I did NOT feel better trying to minimize what I was going through, or why. In fact, I felt stupid for thinking I could mantra my way out of a panic attack which was impeding my ability to breathe.

Someone finally stopped me to chat, and told me I am so heavily triggered right now, that everything is bothering me on a higher frequency. They suggested talking to my doctor about this, in order to get some support. Stupidly, I brought up the issue, only to hear the most insincere, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” I have family for that comment, I do NOT need it from my support system. I found myself angered, and unable to talk about how painful it was to have to bring it up at all. I speak to him again after the holidays, and I am genuinely torn between speaking up or simply going elsewhere for what I need. The second you feel like your needs aren’t being met somewhere, you should not be inclined to blame yourself. I’d like to normalize talking about this because too often, women do not.

The month of December brings up a lot of pain and heartache for me. I cannot just “breathe through it”. It’s been a while since I’ve acknowledged how bad my Complex PTSD is, but it’s bad. and I feel unable to fully cope. Mostly because, medication usually helps, but this year, it is all just hitting harder than usual. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot to distract me, so it’s present every minute of the day. It’s beginning to cause insomnia, which worries me, because I’m finally going to bed at a decent hour and often getting decent sleep, but not now. Now I am tormented, and I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

Alas, I will probably survive. Or maybe I’ll just breathe through it. 🙄

copyright © 2022 by Lisa Marino & Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Poison In Lethal Doses®™ is a registered trademark. Written work by author may not be shared or posted anywhere without express written consent from the author.

Eleven Days

Miss Poison Grief/Grieving, Stages Of Grief, Writing , , , , , , ,

For some reason, the number of days hit me. December is never an easy month for me, but this year I’ve got more grief than usual weighing on my heart. It’s unbelievably intense and heavy. I try to talk about it, and the pain seizes control of my vocal cords. It shuts me up and shuts me down. In the end, I go back to a state of isolation and silence, because those are safer places to be. For now.

My voice is my strongest and best asset in this world. Whenever I have to go into a deep, dark well of silence, I feel like someone took me to the vet and neutered me (BTW, Cat and Kitten did pretty well at the vet this year. They maintained their weight, are in good health, minus my having to add some supplements for arthritis, and tolerated a new vet who I wanted to smack. It’s sad to see tiny kittens in your head, and then see their ages on paper in black and white. It startled me. I genuinely hope they will be with me a long time. Also, it was much easier to sedate them in order to avoid shrieking and any additional trauma. They still meowed their displeasure, but they were very well behaved, overall. I came out with two minor scratches, as opposed to last year’s Blood Match, so YAY on that.). I HATE feeling like I cannot be my true self. If only there was medication to fix that for me!

When you’re dealing with grief, NO ONE gets to tell you that your feelings are invalid or, “have gone on too long”. No one gets to tell you when your pain ends, except you. The truth is, some pain will stick with you until your dying day. That’s part of your humanity, and I hope you never lose it. I would be more concerned with those who feel NOTHING and/or want you to, “get over it” because it’s an inconvenience to their life. Heartless shit is a red flag; please remember this for future reference.

Unfortunately, I have to take my pain into therapy. I’m not happy about that, but I need some support. My expectations are nil. You can’t make people understand what you’re experiencing, or have experienced. Even by giving some people comparison pain, they still don’t get it. I assure you, what people do or do not comprehend isn’t your fault. For me, I’m rethinking many of my relationships because it isn’t my job to help people comprehend things and/or meet me on my level. In fact, it is almost certainly time for me to move on to new energy. I owe no one anything, and this is something I am trying to remember each day.

Yes, I have other things to talk about and share, but for now, I’m at eleven days and I am HURTING. I pray for better moments where I can celebrate, instead of feel overwhelming grief and sadness.

copyright © 2022 by Lisa Marino-Molchanova & Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Poison In Lethal Doses®™ is a registered trademark. Written work by author may not be shared or posted anywhere without express written consent from the author.