Kicked In The Heart

As you evolve, you learn things about yourself. It’s important to me to always be evolving, to always have goals, dreams, and to keep achieving. One of the most crucial things I learned, many years ago, was to eliminate jealousy completely.

I’m a Scorpio, and we’re known for being jealous individuals when it comes to our relationships. A great deal of this is mythology. Let me be clear when I say we’re not all like that, but for a few years, I was. I eliminated it by being in a toxic relationship, sadly enough. I’ve written about this relationship and how important it was to get out of it. To this day, I am still grateful that someone else came along (for him) and interrupted my cycle of suffering. On occasion, I still pray for her because she ended up forever tied to the jackass. I cut all ties and I don’t look back.

When a person is supposed to love you, they shouldn’t turn around and use other women to make you jealous, uncomfortable, or angry. The same is true if a woman is doing it with other men. It’s not acceptable to try to harm the person/people you’re in a relationship with by using others to get a rise out of them or emotionally harm them. That’s not the behavior of someone you can have any kind of healthy relationship with. A truly loyal person would never do that to you, or disrespect others by involving them.

I no longer feel jealousy when something of that nature arises. In fact, I feel indifferent. I immediately shut down and it’s amazing how quickly love shuts off. I have a built-in mechanism which shuts down so quickly, it should scare me, but it doesn’t. It helps me eliminate being embarrassed publicly by someone. It’s a complete and total shut down in terms of respect, love, and caring about the other person. It may seem harsh and it may seem cold, but it is necessary. All of us have a mechanism we may or may not be aware of which shields us from the deepest levels of emotional harm. Especially if, like me, you have lived through so much trauma, you often question your own survival.

A reaction very similar to what I’ve described happened to me this past week. Instead of investigating more deeply or reacting in an emotional manner, I immediately shut down. My exact reaction was, “Fuck this. I don’t need the drama. I can do better, and I will.” When you love someone and they hurt you in a way you know you can’t forgive, that’s probably the correct response to have. It’s a response that takes toxicity out of the equation and moves you straight into the healing process. There’s nothing to grieve.

I am not sitting and listening to sad songs. I am not dwelling. I’m not feeling anything, actually. I’m in an erasure method. I never realized how quickly I can delete someone from my life when they hurt me. Anyone with a trauma history likely has similar coping mechanisms, or different ones. Done truly means DONE for me.

Sadly, I give certain friendships more chances than I am giving this particular issue. I won’t even refer to it as a relationship because it’s done. Acknowledging it as more means I have hope. I don’t.

And so, I’m taking some time to heal and move forward. I’ve got much bigger fish to fry. Sometimes I need to burn the past, however little or much, and journey on. For me, this is the core of real strength.

copyright © 2021 by Lisa Marino & Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

The Thirteenth Year

May. The month of darkness. The month of flashbacks, nightmares, anger at being robbed of loved ones… It’s hell. I suffer silently; no one is particularly interested in what I have to say. I remind myself it isn’t personal, some people simply aren’t full-fledged human beings. C’est la vie.

Thirteen years ago tonight, my mother’s heart gave out. I got the phone call, “We’re trying to revive her, but…” The BUT was my mother’s DNR; a point of contention between us for years. I had power of attorney and I remember saying, “Screw the DNR. If she can be revived, you save her life.” An hour later and I knew. I remember looking at the clock, in pure silence, and knowing the exact moment when she left. When I received her death certificate, the time was not a shock, but it jolted me. My life was permanently altered. I feel like I’ve lived a nightmare almost every day since.

One of the most important messages my mother instilled in me was to ALWAYS be honest and speak up for my beliefs. I am not a passive, gullible, peace-keeper; I was built for war and educated argument. My mother knew, before I was born, that I was strong and a force to be reckoned with. That’s the kind of daughter she wanted; one who would always speak her mind, one who would not pretend, and one who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, because she’d know her worth and would not be afraid of walking into rooms and being a strong, powerful, determined individual. I suspect she got what she ordered. 😉

My parents taught my brother and I to focus on facts, and to know when we were being lied to. Not everyone is blessed with intuitive education. I was not taught to hate. I am an intuitive person with a mind which pays attention to details others might miss. Micro-aggressions, body language, any shift in behavior or verbal tone is something I will notice. I am grateful for these things, because I know other parents weren’t teaching such things, and because much of this knowledge has saved my life in many situations.

My mother was the best. I was blessed with someone truly devoted to her children, imperfections aside, because NO ONE is perfect. We’re all human.

I miss you. There are no words for the amount of pain I am still trying to work through. Time does not heal a damn thing. Not in this situation.

The Power We Discover

“The power we discover inside ourselves as we survive a life-threatening experience can be utilized equally well outside of crisis, too. I am, in every moment, capable of mustering the strength to survive again—or of tapping that strength in other good, productive, healthy ways.” ―Michele Rosenthal

PTSD Flashbacks

I always talk about my personal experiences when I am dealing with subject matter for #MentalHealthMonday. All forms of trauma require #Awareness.

Almost four years ago, I was diagnosed with Complex PTSD. Thanks to several bad doctors and three lousy therapists post-diagnosis (My Massachusetts based experiences, only.), I struggle at times with how traumatized I really am. I react to sirens (be it police, firefighters, EMS, etc.), and red and blue lights as though I’m about to be attacked and harmed. It’s awful. I am jumpy about so many things, including someone walking into the room I’m in without saying something first. 😦 If a person knocks on the door or rings the bell, I legitimately come out of my skin. A few years ago, I heard strange noises outside at around 3:00 a.m., and immediately pulled a Glock with custom sights. ON MY BROTHER (Who reacted really well, considering the situation.), who was trying to come in through the wrong door, so he freaked me out. Not a good moment. 😦

Today, as I made phone calls, I was retraumatized looking at the information in front of me, which was an explanatory script for the type of calls I was making. I ended up with a migraine and a panic attack as a result, and let me say I am tired of being dictated to by anyone, but a veterinarian’s office definitely shouldn’t be rude and unpleasant because by doing so, you will lose the business I have no choice but to pay for the health and overall well-being of my cats. Telling me you are going to over-vaccinate 100% indoor cats only makes me angry, and it is not conducive to a good beginner’s relationship. And then, looking down at the list of trauma they have both endured, I got extremely upset and declared myself a neglectful cat owner (Which, is completely ridiculous because if you met these creatures, you would see they are spoiled and get plenty of love and care.). Needless to say, the stress piled on way too high.

Then the flashbacks started. Again. Over and over, as if someone left my life on repeat.

People meet me and have no idea there’s anything wrong. They are clueless about what it takes to get me out of bed and focused on my day. And that’s sad, because they don’t ask. But what’s sadder is that trust is not something I have left to offer. It’s been shattered too many times for me to keep giving people chances.

Anyone else understand this?

copyright © 2021 by Lisa Marino & Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

October

This is my favorite season and favorite time of year, but after an emotional, rage-filled moment yesterday, I am questioning EVERYTHING in my life.

To be fair to myself, I reacted via a triggering comment made to me, and new medication that, without my knowing in advance, causes people to occasionally react in a volatile fashion. I’ve stopped the medication, obviously. I don’t ever want to be the type of person who uses her medication as an excuse not to behave properly. That’s unacceptable to me. It’s going to take a week or so to get it fully out of my system, which isn’t a common issue for others, but apparently, for me, it builds up. For most people, it it out of their system within 12-24 hours. I am feeling is gradually leave, but nowhere near fast enough. 😦

I never ask my doctor about trying new medication unless things are bad. This was “new to me” medication, and I should have done extensive research before taking my first capsule. I openly admit to feeling stupid, but relieved that I quickly found the info and said, “I can’t do this anymore.” I had JUST spoken to him yesterday about the drug and was trying to tough it out past the side effects, but that one moment was one moment too many.

When you’re suffering and working solo on your pain/trauma/harm, anything can resurface and cause you to react. That’s what life has been like for me for the past few years, but I haven’t mentioned it. I’ve tried to cope silently, and in turn, I’ve retraumatized myself in several different ways. It is sad and upsetting, and I wish I had the energy to discuss it at length, but I don’t. I feel empty because this is an exhausting process. It’s made worse by no one asking how you’re doing or reaching out to you out of any kind of genuine concern or love for you, which I find SO insulting.

In times like this, I take a huge step back from people. I stop reaching out to them because, quite frankly, enough is enough. The world doesn’t revolve around others who have zero interest in doing the same for you. At the start of quarantine, I reached out to all of my friends to make sure everyone was doing okay, and I let damn near everyone know I was available if they needed to talk. I was mostly ignored. And then, at the end of July, my cousin passed away from terminal lung cancer. I reached out to two of her children, with whom I have solid relationships with, but I know they will call or text if they are having a rough time. They have their support systems. I do not.

I don’t speak to 96% of my blood relatives, and I have my reasons. If you have to find out that your Aunt passed away by finding her obituary online (after not being able to reach her by phone), that is a testament to how your cousins actually feel about you. My father’s side of the family baffles me. My mother’s side isn’t much better, but at least a few people value me enough to maintain a relationship of some kind. One of my cousins is sending me distantly related cousins via Facebook because she uploaded her DNA onto 23andMe and located people this way. If I wanted to upload my DNA to find family, I would do it myself. The truth is, I have enough distant relatives to last a lifetime and no deep-seeded need to “connect” with people I don’t know at this stage in my life. Especially with people in their 70s, 80s, 90s, etc. Let them live and be well, but I would much prefer a few peers. I don’t want conversations about who died, and when. Hard pass.

So yeah, I am struggling. I am suffering. I’m in a dark place. I am usually on a telehealth appointment once a week with my doctor, and despite writing and doing research for various projects I have in the works, I feel like I am mostly achieving nothing at all.

I am either asleep or not sleeping at all. I am in a lot of pain, so I have extremely limited what I do and where I go. After getting sick last month for a while (and having my symptoms suddenly disappear), I wonder if I need to be tested for Covid. It’s hard to tell if my cough is “just allergies”. I might have a minor cold, but it’s the feverish feeling with no fever and insane chills, that make me worry. Yes, this could be a major Fibromyalgia flare-up, or something valid. Unfortunately, when I did call my doctor’s office about this, they weren’t the least bit concerned. The fact that a persistent cough makes me feel like there’s eucalyptus living inside my chest was of zero concern to them, but they thought they were doing me a favor by letting me know I could go and get tested, and they’d fax a request in wherever I decided to go. Instead, I called a local Urgent Care and they said, “Just come in. We don’t need a note or prescription from your doctor, and it’s covered by your insurance.” There’s also free testing being done in the area, so I’m covered if I do need to go. My insurance has called, texted, and sent letters to let me know any testing or treatment will be 100% covered. If I go, I will verify it over the phone, just to be on the safe side of potentially receiving an astronomical bill.

As it begins to dip into the 40s and 50s here, my entire body feels like someone poured -30 degree blood into my veins. Even if it’s 70 degrees outside, I am bundled up like it’s about to snow. I can’t seem to shake the chill. And yet, this could just be my new normal. 😦 I will not know until Spring, pretty much.

Here’s hoping some of this lifts for me and I am able to enjoy the Fall version of October. Realistically, I’m not holding my breath.

copyright © 2020 by Lisa Marino & Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Fourth of July Caturday

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This year was extremely frightening and traumatizing for my cats. They were terrified in a way I have never seen before and I pray I never see it again. I am outraged by the crap my neighbors pulled. The streets were full of smoke, cars couldn’t get through, and it was a major problem waiting to happen if, G-d forbid, an ambulance or fire truck needed to get through. Visibility was extremely poor. Whatever people are using that sounds like an explosion going off was awful for my own trauma history. I’m actually relieved I have a phone appointment with my doctor next week. This was BAD and continues to be worse with every passing moment.