Category Archives: pain and sorrow

Trauma is a bitch…

Have you ever heard how our bodies can carry memories of our trauma within them?
I’ve experienced it a little before, crying during deeply effective yoga, or a really good massage, but having this abdominal surgery is stirring up all sorts of trauma.
Why?
Well the last abdominal surgery was smack dab in the middle of one of the worst years of my life, and I really didn’t get to deal with much of it at all.
So here is today’s podcast. It’s a healing step taken selfishly for me, one I should have taken ages ago, but haven’t because I hate to do anything that could remotely upset or hurt people. That isn’t my intention here, but it might be a side effect. Even knowing that has made me doubt doing this all day.
I have to stop impairing my own healing on the off chance my voice could upset someone, especially when I am only speaking my truth.

It's ok to not be ok, or so I'm told. SavvySpoons – Living a life of limited spell slots.

I'm not doing so hot on the keeping it together front. My German farmer ancestors are rolling over in their graves at my lack of stoicism but I decided to talk about it with you. The world. Or, you know, the 9-10 of you who listen to me. So join in, settle down, and share in some not okay action.¬† — Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/savvyspoons/support
  1. It's ok to not be ok, or so I'm told.
  2. Uncut and in pain
  3. Of birthdays and teenagers…
  4. Touchstone Tuesday and My Tummy Wombat
  5. Crafty Crap on a Sunday

Despair

I’m so very tired. The only time I don’t have a headache is when I have had too much to drink. Even my sleep is invaded by the invisible drum chorus in my head, pounding endlessly like waves upon the shore, eroding my strength and forebearance.

There is no where to share my despair. All the compassion has been spent, I have exceeded my allowance.

This is never going to end.

This is never going to end and I am trapped inside it, alone.

I want to give up, to give in. To tell the pain it has won and just slide into its throbbing darkness. I want to sleep and never again battle the waking hour, never again force myself to rise and walk when each breath, each step, resonates in my head in an unending rhythm.

I want to wave the white flag and let my consciousness succumb to the overwhelming clashing of blood and vessel in my brain. I want to blithely sleep while the vessels constrict and gorge, over and over, the rhythm of my foolish heart playing it’s swan song for an audience of one.

I want to release it, vent it, let it go.

I want this to end.