Flashback Friday | Changing Seasons

I propped my phone up in the front window just to play with Hyperlapse and the sunrise this morning. I ended up with an audio-visual of myself (clip above). Played around with the Hyperlapse capture using VivaVideo and iMovie and was both surprised and excited by the result of mirroring clip. 

You know, it’s almost always a shit day in my world lately and I work very hard to not focus there. I feel like for all of us, no matter what’s going on, things can be boiled down to a matter of perspective. I’ve always felt like its a choice. I remind myself (numerous times a day lately) that there’s a light in me somewere, and I try to outshine the shit going down around me so that by the end of every day I’ve convinced myself it wasn’t so bad. 

Usually that’s enough and the shit wave recedes back into the sea of life and the sun comes back out and it’s pretty good for a while. That’s not how it’s been for a while, for me, and while I know at least a couple of my shit things in the last few years have ultimately been down to my own choices and consequences, so many things are down to nothing but “that’s the way life works…” Alas, I continue to “shine,” but I keep saying, “I’m tired,” a lot lately, & my body is rebelling. 

I spend most early mornings and late nights pondering all manner of codependent (with grief) and self-destructive thoughts. I write a lot of journal entries that are effectively letters to people who will never receive them, mostly dead people; they’re mostly just prayers and poems of grief and injustice, bitterness and fear… My heart is upside down and my soul is twisted, and I don’t know where the light comes from exactly but I want to believe it’s from the goodness inside me that the grief and injustice can’t kill with the bitterness and fear. It’s like this inner war is ever raging and I just can’t be fully killed, no matter how readily yet nervously I rush to the front lines to defend myself and no matter how badly certain parts of me wish to die. 

Mostly, my CPTSD battles are still fought in my dreams. I dreamed last night, for example, that my mother was sleeping and I was there with her. I sat with her and I told her so many truths knowing she couldn’t hear them and punish me… “I am my own savior – I don’t need yours. I never have… But I’ve needed a lot of you that you’ve only ever given to that savior. You destroyed me as a child and I have spent the last 25 years trying to rebuild myself. I finally got almost there, and now here I am – not protecting myself from you but protecting you from yourself. How does that even work? I don’t know. But here I am… And you don’t even get it – all you can do is continually thank this savior of yours. This savior who, if they had any compassion at all for you, would just let you go and be with daddy like you want it to be…” 

And then I heard Dorie whisper, “her time’s not done – your lesson is not over.” My heart lifted, and I looked around and there she stood in my mother’s kitchen with a cigarette in her misty, transparent hand and that unmistakeable, uneraseable, beautiful smile on her face. I’ve been fucked up since I woke from that dream – grateful, sad, anxious, so many things all at once… All of this, and the thing I really can’t stop wondering about is “heaven” being a smoke-friendly zone. Go figure. 

So here’s to Flashback Friday (above photo):  early spring blooms hiding in the swamp at Pearl River WMA, March 7, 2015. Found this in my prints folder this morning. God. I can’t believe nearly two years have passed since the day I took this photo. I can’t believe I’ve sold two prints of this. Who’d have thunk it. And what’s up with all the two’s today? I digress. 

I also can’t believe winter is soon to end. Just a few more weeks and the season of change is upon us again. Honestly? This winter hasn’t been as bad as I expected it to be, at least regarding SAD. I really was terrified that I would find myself in the worst bout of SAD depression I’d ever fallen into. Turns out, I was wrong – apparently, nothing can top 2015. Maybe it’s because that me is dead as a door nail. After the last two years it takes a LOT to affect my emotions that powerfully. The winter after my dad died was the most ridiculous winter I have ever faced: the SAD did kick in, I was grieving him, and grieving dead dreams, and watching Scrappy and Dorie die… 

Maybe I’m just that numb now, even though I still have gratitude within me. Maybe it’s because it’s been pretty warm. Maybe it’s because there’s been so damned much going on that I haven’t had time to process anything or feel the seasonal affective cliff-jump happen. Maybe it HAS affected me and I just haven’t consciously noticed it because of the aforementioned BS. Regardless, I have come to realize that winter hasn’t been so bad this year despite my fears that it would be (especially after the CPTSD diagnosis), but I’m not really all that excited for spring (yet) this year. It feels like SAD in reverse. 

Spring was my time with both of them. Planting, tending, loving the blooms and foods to life, then shooting them with our cameras and sitting together and enjoying them…. The therapy garden… I can’t go to it since the fall of last year. I’ve neglected it, I’ve avoided it. It’s not therapeutic anymore. It just hurts. It just makes her absence (and his) that much more real. Maybe that’s the point… I don’t know. Something to ponder more deeply, I think. 

Yesterday someone commented that I don’t grieve well. I think that I grieve excellently. I think – no, I know – that what I don’t do well (if at all) is let go of the souls I love. Whether they be human or animal, dead or alive when they make their exit from my life, I just hate to say goodbye… I CAN’T say goodbye – not once my heart has loved them. One of the things I’m learning very powerfully from grieving Dorie especially is that I don’t HAVE to let go. It’s not a requirement. Even when you accept their removal from your story and even as life becomes something new and different without them, whether they’re dead or alive, you have to let go at your own pace…and despite so many self help and spirituality pushes and platforms to “let it go?” That’s not always they best thing we can do – especially if we aren’t doing it in our own time and in our own way. I’ve learned to allow myself that, regardless of the opinions of others. 

One more Flashback Friday that my previous train of thought led me to seek out on that same hard drive/folder: if you didn’t know, I LOVE the alligator. I don’t know why. They just, well, I love them… On this day, with this gator, I tried to sit with him; I wanted to lay my hand on his back and I wanted him to heal me. I believed he could. In my soul, I feel like be did, albeit it from afar. This was as close as I got before he swam away. But we had a good moment. We had a good run while it lasted. We all did…me and all my people (and pets) who’ve gone. I’m so glad I had as much time as I did with ALL of them before they “swam away.” I think that memories – reliving the old ones that are good and creating new ones – they, and nature, are hope and healing for me. They keep my soul alive, and grateful. 

Oh, and one more alligator related thing:  truly, there’s no need to fear the gator you can see. It’s the one hiding under the water, hungry, while you’re swimming – that’s the one that will get you.

Now it is late evening (past my bedtime, really), so  I think I will close with more Hyperlapse fun, this clip  recorded this evening in the backyard. As I’ve sat and enjoyed an evening to myself (as it were – a moms job is really never done unless there’s a sitter or a sleepover with a friend or family member involved) I’ve been thinking about my pondering a about time earlier today, and considering some old versus new ideas and questions regarding it. I often refer to time as an illusion, sometimes I refer to it as nonexistent (from one perspective of quantum theory). I’ve been reading a bit from some quantum theory articles this evening and one really struck me:

“Just as the double slit experiment illustrates how factors associated with consciousness collapse the quantum wave function (a piece of matter existing in multiple potential states) into a single piece of matter with defined physical properties (no longer a wave, all those potential states collapsed into one), the delayed choice experiment illustrates how what happens in the present can change what happens(ed) in the past. It also shows how time can go backwards, how cause and effect can be reversed, and how the future caused the past.” 

If my general disbelief in the existence of time AS WE KNOW IT is true, why can I (and do I) observe it (time) in so many ways? Not to mention the fact that I work so hard to remain stuck in a certain point in time, not wanting to leave certain aspects of the past behind no matter the fact that they’ve slipped away already…? I know…I’m weird and no one but me sits around a fire in the backyard on a Friday night and thinks about things like this, right? That’s ok – no place I’d really rather be… 

The day has come to a close, I’m afraid; but, even after all the scattered (yet purposeful) thoughts and struggles of the day I sit here tonight feeling mostly grateful, wanting to thank you for your part in my story, and wishing you all a wonderful weekend. 

C.

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