Trusted Moon

The moon holds the secrets
of the trees
whispering in the night

©words Alexis Rose, photographer, Shelley Bauer, from the collaboration Of Earth and Sky

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    

 

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Thank-you symptoms, but I’ve got this!

The past few days during moments of exasperation, I’ve said out loud to myself, “You’re being so weird, just stop it!” In reality, I haven’t been weird, I have been feeling off, and instead of sitting with the feelings, and letting them surf on through, I’ve been running the other way in a grand state of denial.

There is a saying: “PTSD: It’s not the person refusing to let go of the past, but the past refusing to let go of the person.” That saying is a simple way for me to understand that try as I might, there are reasons my PTSD symptoms sometimes still have a firm chokehold on me. The list can be long depending on the time of year and triggers.

Autumn is beautiful and just started here in the Midwest. Blue skies and Vermillion colored trees often coexist with 70 degrees temperatures. This time of year, from late August until it snows represents trigger, after trigger for me. While I can appreciate the wonderful weather, the long season can be challenging with prolonged symptoms and what can seem like constant symptom management. They don’t just amplify on certain calendar dates, they simmer,  just under my skin in both the Fall and Spring seasons.

There are days when the triggers and symptom management leave me exhausted and feeling like I’m a burden to my family and close friends. I spend most of the time finding ways to work on distress tolerance and grounding when the autumn winds blow.

Lately, I have been able to tolerate some of the triggers that in years past, would send me hiding in the house. I noticed I was able to name what the trigger was without flashbacks or much anxiety. That felt great, and I made sure to acknowledge how far I’ve come in my healing journey. But, as the weather has changed and we entered September, my body memories and reptilian mind have been fighting for a seat at the table.

I’m pretty good at accepting, and having compassion for my lizard brain and body responses by telling them, “Thank you for doing what you are meant to do, but we are safe now, and I’ve got this.” Most of the time that works, but sometimes as the skeleton hands of the past slowly edge up my spine and try to pull me down, some deep feelings get stirred up. If I don’t acknowledge the feelings and sit with them even for a short amount of time, they come out sideways. I get emotional, irritable, and I start demanding an impossible perfection from myself. If I’m not careful those feelings can inadvertently push play on the negative self-talk and doubt.

This morning, when I caught myself again saying, “You’re being so weird, just stop it” it made me pause. Instead of running to the next distraction I sat down to reflect, on what was really going on. With reflection, I stopped denying that the change of season is having an effect on me. It’s not me refusing to let go of the past, it’s an internal response to the trauma I survived.

Now that I’ve accepted what is going on, and forgiven myself for how I’ve been feeling, I say to my symptoms, “Thank-you, I see you, and I’ve got this!

PTSD

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    

Breathless ~ Gratitude

Grateful I learned
to stand up for myself
practiced the concept that “no” is a complete sentence
that spending time alone is okay
and to acknowledge the huge trajectory of health and wellbeing

Grateful I saw
changes in myself
the benefit of setting firm boundaries
and the deep greens, and sky blues of the seasons

Grateful I experienced
the power of saying, “no more”
the stillness of my mind
the ground, firm under my feet
and contagious laughter

With blinders off
every day is a brand new day
hope…on the darkest days
hope…on the brightest days

Grateful
that when that bolt of loneliness
hits my soul and all I want to do is run
I remain patient, watchful
and resolute in the waves of impermanence

On this cloudy morning
I’m calm with the steady knowing that I’m okay
at peace, enveloped with goosebumps ~ breathless ~ gratitude

©Alexis Rose, photographer, Janet Rosauer
Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    

Whispers of Autumn

Whispers playing off the breeze
entice us to look closer
at the bouquet of life
rising from summer’s warm hands.
We catch our breath
watching the spectacular
V-formations of birds
readying for their trip south.
Together, we ease into autumn.

 

©Alexis Rose. Image source: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    

Crosswinds

Two souls and a dog
create a circle of healing

Encompassed with compassion and empathy
the misted space is safe and authentic

Words, hopes, and dreams
for a gentle life
become
more than an inaudible whisper to the stars
in the shadow of the night

Misted crosswinds
fuel safety and trust

Possibilities are endless
in a circle of healing
breath, gratitude, hope
and a dog

©Alexis Rose,  Photo by Jack Brind on Unsplash

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph      

 

An Agile Survivor

I was fine
Then it seems I wasn’t

What happened?

Seems I forgot
Then I remembered

Okay – now what?

My quirks began to make sense
to me, my family and friends

Am I irreparably damaged?
No, no I’m not
but there are limitations

They don’t define me
but it’s hard and confusing
to understand what that really means

Acceptance, self-compassion
understanding

So now what?

I work on healing
exploring new ways to live
within my limitations

Knowing the skeleton hands
may come and go
stress and health
ebb and flow, sometimes taking away hours
teaching me to notice the gift of perfect moments
of  breath, peace, and exhaled contentment

I wasn’t fine
Now I am – at this moment
I recognize and I’m grateful for impermanence

What happened?

I live the potential
embrace the possibility
and embody compassionate healing

I become who I am ~ who I always was
not broken, not fragile
An Agile Survivor

©Alexis Rose, image source: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph      

 

Hope from the Flowers

Buried
feeling as if I’m suffocating
thinking that it’s just a season
it’s long, it’s hard
but time-limited, like the seasons.

On guard from the howling, swirling wind
sounding like echos of the past
sinister laughs
then silence
dark, deep silence.

It could be worse
It’s only weather…weather the storm
I’ll forget the destruction
bury it deep, make it smaller
Until I discover it wasn’t
a storm that passed
it was me!

Invisible to the pain
the ruination of a person
a body, mind, soul
a girl, a woman
who wasn’t allowed to own her body.

Anxious, panicked
crying to myself, and asking
What do I do?
Why won’t this go away?
Why must the skeleton hands of the past
grab me and keep trying to pull me down?

Suddenly; it’s quiet
a lull in the blizzard winds
a pause in the crackling trees.

Looking down I see
bits of green making their way
through the snow.

The crocus and tulips
know to bloom again
they are determined to ignore
the storms, the cold, the wind
It is their purpose to bloom and grow.

I realize that I can take this lesson from the flowers.

I can persevere and grow
to speak, and speak again
to feel
to heal
to breathe in the gift, this gift of hope
hope from the flowers.

©Alexis Rose, image: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph