Tuesday, 12 August 2014

Gazing into the Journal Glass

I have been looking back at some of my early entries in my journal.
  I was asked by my doctor to start a journal in November 2013 but I procrastinated until mid December 2013.

  Actually it took that long for me to find the energy really. I was very distraught and just getting out of bed was tough. The feeling of guilt for letting down my coworkers. The loss of income. The feeling of uselessness. Why the fuck would I put paper to pen. I don't want to read about how fucked up I am. I'm living it. Why the self flagellation of a journal.

  At first entries are just short to the point. As if the words were hard to squeeze out of my pen.
They are more thoughts and fears rather than observations or revelations of anything that is going on around me.

At first they were all questions.
Will I be able to go back to work?
Will I be able to work at all?
Will I commit suicide to escape my problem.
 How long will my family put up with this.
Am I broken forever.
I miss John Candy, he was a great guy.

All very negative, but reasonable questions for me.

But like anything, the more you do the better you get. Now I can glance back a few months and read it but see it in a different light. You can begin to see some behavioral patterns. You can then make changes to your routine to correct the bad behavior or at the very least realize what a dick you are being.

   I have been working the journal for almost eleven months now. I can't see myself without it now. What a great resource it has become for me. I am not cured but I am doing much better. Still a long way to go. If anything the journal helps me to understand what a battle I have on my hands. I will never be rid of this affliction because I cannot erase my mind. Cannot undo what has been done.

    It is has been said that seeing is believing. How can one believe when there is nothing to see?
Post Traumatic Stress is a real disease. As real as all the physical diseases just you can't see it by looking. It is real as any physical cancer. Consider it as a cancer of the soul, eating away at one's entire being. If left unchecked this cancer will reveal itself physically through anger towards others and self, disassociation, anxiety attacks, chronic fatigue, antisocial behavior most often involving drugs or alcohol, absence from work or family functions and an unwillingness to communicate.

 If you see these signs in others or yourself ask the question. Was there a traumatic event in which there was no control over it's outcome?

If the answer is yes, seek help.

   Everyone has a heavy cross to bear, this one is mine. Be strong, take it and carry on. So, being a Taylor I dealt with tragedy in my ancestral way. Swallow it, bury it deep in your gut, drown it in alcohol and don't talk about it.

I now realize I can never go back to the work I once did. It will surely cause a relapse. What am I to do with myself? That question will take time to answer. It will take actions to solve the riddle.

  I am fighting this cancer in my mind every day. I hope to get it into a kind of remission. From that point I hope to be able to keep it in check by continuing to be conscious of it. Taking the appropriate measures to combat it. Using mindfulness to focus on what I am doing so I don't just run on autopilot. Living in the now is what I need more than ever. Tomorrow will come, but all the planning in the world will not guarantee that I will be there.

So it's one day at a time. My workshop gives me a place to practice mindfulness. I hope that you find a place to practice yours.

Thanks for reading, see you when I have discovered some more answers.

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