Anxious Not?

9 10 2013

ImageIs my anxiety me, or is it a circumstance?

Is my anxiety me, or is it a learned survival identity?

Is my anxiety temporary, or permanent?

Is the root of my anxiety a coping mechanism for a temporary traumatic situation, gone viral?

When I first discovered/acknowledged anxiety in me and all of it’s flavors, manifestations/forms.  I wanted to deny it, like I had all along, with action, distraction, chaos and food.

When I began acknowledging studying, healing etc., believe it or not, anxiety diminishment occurred.

In the peak of engulfment of learning/being in my anxiety, I answered the first questions as, yes I am an anxious person by nature and always have been.

In the post of my years of learning self care, protection, nurturing, creating, I can acknowledge, no, I’m not an anxious person.

Yes the recipe of my life was an anxious creation, yet the conscious living of my life since, has lead to a calm endeavor, rich with serenity, I bit of chaotic and growth spice, followed by calm seas.  Each helping define the other.

In July, for the first time in my life I declared I was a calm sane, “normal” individual left up to my own devices by nature.  Since then I’ve dealt with a series of work and life storms that have invited me back to “I’m just a crazy person”.

NEWSFLASH to my soul:  I’ve ridden the storm, discovered underlying causes, and declare once again, I’m sane.

This is huge for me, because I rarely felt that as a kid, and never as an adult since I was locked up for 5 weeks at 17.

My adult life, began in a state run psychiatric institute.  Go figure, I’ve been driven by the anxiety of being officially labelled crazy, and the fear of being locked up again, ever since.

Thank God, I chose to believe, I wasn’t junk, I was created this way for a reason, and that I would and have find a way to live autonomously, with the gifts that I am.

I never, ever, in 25 years since I was released from the mental institute, think I could consider myself sane, and normal.

Miracles Happen,  I know this, because I am one.

If I can figure a way out, maybe my words can be of service to the next individual willing to wrought their way out of their inner angst.

peace,

George Denslow





Unworthy Fear

5 10 2013

UnworthyIt happens.  Trauma in any form, duration and stage of life, sucks.  Fear of being alone, fear of sleeping, daytime anxiety, mood swings, unwarranted physical over reactions.  Suck.

ok fine.

What am I going to do about it Today, George.

Be gentle and breathe.  Interact as delicately as I can with my day.  All I want to do is go screaming into the dark night of my mind, and try again tomorrow, or next decade.

Be Safe.

Be Safe and breathe.

Long term trauma, wether it occurred in childhood, war, or life at any time, can be debilitating and overwhelming.

I hate it when it seemingly bubbles up out of no where.

Currently I’m triggering the hell out of my nerves because how dare I share my gift of writing inside out with the world.

It’s amazing how PTSD, BPD, and anxiety, can attack my attempts to be successful and share my gifts and strengths.  I have survived, and thrived, in spite of, at times because of internal and external extremes.

At times like this when I poke my gifts out a little further into the world, I slam down fast and hard internally with fear, shame, and overwhelming paralyzing anxiety.

Thank God, for core strength, not the kind you learn in yoga class.

Thank God, for the core strength I learned during the years of abuse, whether it was externally directed, or self induced after the years of trauma.

I am tough and strong.  Inside out.  Sure my body is a debris field of overeating, car wrecks, “good ideas at the time”, etc.

But sometimes in the midst of my fears and tears, I forget, I knew what tough was long ago.

May all those who suffer from life’s traumas, today or in the past, hold a moment of strength for each other.  Let’s be scared, and strong, together.  Let’s know, the trauma may have showed us the gift of strength, if we can breathe past the fear of anxiety and low self worth.  It’s no fun being a victim.  So pause on your journey, rest a moment, and remember, we are still breathing, we are probably stronger internally than our less traumatized companions, and each new day is an opportunity to create and share, no matter how much it scares us.

g





What if?

16 11 2010

I felt a chunk of my inner iceberg melt the other day.

What if I’m actually a peaceful still person and always have been?

What if people really have seen the inner me reflect through my inner darkness?

What if the extreme swings inside me are just a defensive mental reaction to compensate for the illusion of scarcity?

What if my bursts of anger are actually a surge of injustice when my outer world has not reflected my inner world of peace and stillness?

What if my last two years of sitting in stillness whenever possible has actually rebooted the being that I am?

What if I at last I can be the me that I am?

What if it is possible to relax into what I naturally am, a person obsessed with stillness, allowing the threads of peace to weave thru me, seeping into the ahh of inner soul connection expression?

What if I am the person I always immerge from my caves as, a positive minded happy soul?

What if all the crap I’ve created in my life, is just a reflection of the illusion of scarcity and chaos I’ve let myself collapse into in times of overwhelm?

What if I allow myself to continue this path of stillness and joy?

What if I could receive from this place of inner being, what if I could be rewarded for dwelling here, hearing the threads of peace re weave as needed?  What if I were truly able to let go of those I allow to trigger me, or I allow to suck the light out of me, or allow to be chaos long enough that I believe in their current illusion and make it my own?

What if I’m actually a functional being of stillness, light and joy, as naturally as breathing?

What if I’ve always been this way?

What if life truly is this easy?

What if this journey to my stillness, is the strength I desire to be stillness?

What if my distractions from inner peace have actually been this huge map of life and all the dressed up versions of illusions have led me back to the place I chose first as a child?

What if my intimate familiarity with all the illusion rides of scarcity in life have led me to be an inner peace guide?

What if bipolar is a very inclusive ride, to learn about ADD, PTSD, Depression, mania, etc etc etc, so that I could teach stillness from the inside out for the rest of my life in the ease of being me?

What if this huge illusion of bipolar disorder, manic depression, is just a childhood brain adjustment for dealing with vision and empathy of better times, created by an active imagination?

What if all the ways out of my inner hell, are all the ways I can teach anyone interested in their ease, with any size of bump or vision, become again who they really already are?

What if?

George





Numb

6 04 2010

I find myself staring at my little Iphone screen furiously playing a new favorite game as my arms cramp.  I put down the game because the battery died and I pick up the remote and mindlessly watch tv.  I lie in bed watching old movies until my laptop watches me as my eyes close because I can’t keep them open any longer.  Thank God I’m on a vegetarian healthy food kick so when I eat too much it’s not as hard for my body to digest.  A slight whisper in the back of my mind, hey George, guess what, you are numb and lost in the back of your cave right now and might need to focus on learning the lesson and coming back out.

A day later, I’ve slept in again, and get ready to pick up my iphone, when I hear a whisper, hey George, the easiest way to begin again is to get on your knees and ask for help.

I ignore this but I do find myself doing my exercises, and sitting in my meditation chair.

The moment I sit still without distraction the emotions run high, I feel crazy and want to run, move scream cry.  But that’s what I’ve been doing silently on the inside as I’ve numbed out.

It’s ok George, it’s called being triggered,   you don’t feel safe or ok right now, and all the doors to past crap opened up and overwhelmed you.  An involuntary tear dribbles down my cheek and catches in my whiskers.  It itches and tickles at the same time.

It’s ok George, I know you feel crazy, unsafe and want to continue numbing, but wasn’t there something else you were really looking forward to doing with your time off?

A breathe, deep, escapes my lungs and I take another, grateful for the slight relief and comfort it brings.

I sit a while longer and gently confront the neurotic energy in my mind and body, and gently ask myself what do I really want, what is the real feeling  I am seeking.  When past story comes up, I just ask myself, what do I really want to feel right now, safety, security, comfort.  So I let myself repeat these words even though I am not experiencing them in order to gently redirect my mind.  I feel safe.  I feel secure.  I feel ok.  I am safe now. Over , and over, breathe.  Repeat

An hour later, I’m still a little bit of a jumpy horse eyeing my iphone game and twitching to watch more movies, but I can at least think a little bit, and blog, share my bipolar journey, it is my passion.  Capture what I can of mental gifts, and the ways out I discover so that it may help others.  PSTD, is no fun.  I hate labels.  Sometimes they help me to acknowledge where I am, so that I can initiate methods that I know have worked in the past to find my way back to conscious choice and action instead of continual numb.

Seeing,

George








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