Thursday, March 13, 2014. I suppose it’s a sign of the times of my life right now that even my use of words has become less than an easy flow and more of a “What the heck is THAT?” experience. This morning I find myself face-to-face with the word REPLENISH, along with all its various forms and – parts of speech?
PARTS? Even words – broken into pieces? How helpful is that to me right now, to discover that I am feeling caught up in an undertow of complexity even in the universe of words I might use to think about my life right now?
I am trying to talk myself into leaving that level of reality alone – the reality that there are PROPER ways to speak versus – improper ones? I am criticizing myself for not even – thinking properly?
“If you can’t even get your parts of speech correct, Linda, then you sure have no business WRITING anything!”
Oh, Geeze. Who was that writing about “the monkey on your back?”
1a : to fill with persons or animals : stock
b archaic : to supply fully : perfect
c : to fill with inspiration or power : nourish
2a : to fill or build up again <replenished his glass>
b : to make good : replace
: to become full : fill up again
— re·plen·ish·able \-ni-shə-bəl\ adjective
— re·plen·ish·er noun
— re·plen·ish·ment \-nish-mənt\ noun
Perhaps it’s just another sign of the near overload I feel as a trauma altered individual as my super-sensitivities seem to be nearly crowding me out of my own body-life.
There is GREAT stress in my family right now. I created massive stress in my own life (and therefore within myself) by venturing these 2000 miles away from my own location-of-home to try to “help” by adding my own life energies to that of the people I love.
Is this entire venture at risk of toppling me over and of burying me alive?
Right now it seems so.
Dumb little things. But then, my small life is probably made up mostly of small things. As far as I can tell at the moment.
I have been reading some cheapo bestselling trash thrillers – (in my book) – and find myself being most stressed by all the COMMAS thrown willy-nilly (seems to me) in all the sentences so that I can hardly read for the pauses those commas demand of me!
“Get those commas out of my way so I can actually READ this dumb book!”
Then – of course – I MUST increase my doubts about my own writing. If I want a pause? Use one of those — — — things or create an obvious break of my intention with a PERIOD for heaven’s sake.
Perhaps my stress level is right at (or possibly over) the DISTRESS level all the way around! It does not help for me, with my super hearing to be DRONED out of my own sanity by the ROAR of the ventilation system in this 30-unit apartment building! I HATE irritating noises and here I am with a lease on this place until next 12/1 with a DRONING ROAR in my walls and ceilings that I cannot drown out….
And I am trying! I built 3 fountains that run in this one room I spend my life in right now. I run an obnoxious fan at night. There is NO PLACE I can go in my home to get away from that horrible sound!
Tip of the iceberg. (In honor of the poor shrinking population of polar bears who will soon have no iceberg or ice floe in sight to live upon I HATE to draw attention to an image that is itself disappearing from this poor distressed and troubled planet.)
I must skip the 10,000 pages it would take me to flesh out the story of how my life is going and how it feels to me to be in my life right now. Skip to the chase?
How do I REPLENISH what inner meager resources I am still hanging onto at this point in my 62-year-old life? I walked away from the PLACE and the people of the past 14 years of my life that evidently sustained me so deeply I forgot that sustenance was NOT within me!!
How do I replenish myself now, (oops, a comma!) given the weight of the determining factors all the way around me that are influencing me?
Trauma depletes resources. In its survivors it not only depletes inner resources but at the same time creates a reality within which continual incoming/available outer resources are necessary to simply balance the flow of resources that are continually being lost just by the fact of being a trauma survivor.
Where does anything EXTRA possibly come from if one is trying to provide resources to others?
Out of thin air? (What’s with THAT expression?)
Seems to me I am relying upon INVISIBLE resources right now or I am going DOWN in ways I am fighting even contemplating.
I guess – having written myself this far down in this post – I would have to say that I have given myself some kind of ground – fertile or infertile – to contemplate as I try to buoy myself up enough to continue forward “a good piece” in “good peace.”
I can refine my contemplations (thinkings) about inner and outer resources, about draining them, about offering them to others in balance with sustaining myself, about replenishing my entire stock of resources in any way that I can – in terms of those resources I have, can access, can offer to others in HEALTHY ways as being VISIBLE or INVISIBLE ones.
I can only access my entire human support system online or on the phone. Visible? Invisible?
I can only access images and memories of beloved landscapes that have so fed and sustained me (in effort to counterbalance the drain that being in an area of the country I am allergic to (evidently) and the drain of being in a CITY!! Horrors!). Visible or Invisible resource?
And certainly – GOD – prayer – desperate prayer for replenishment, sustenance, assistance for self and others – INVISIBLE OR VISIBLE? Sustainability?
Survivors of severe early trauma go through their – our – lives resource-deplenished (seems like a good word to me!) in PROFOUNDLY significant ways at the same time we are in-the-hole regarding ways to increase our resources (same thing as increasing our well-being).
Stores. Provisions. Inventory. Costs of doing business. Visible. Invisible. Tangible. Intangible.
What makes certain resources – say certain minerals, gems, elementals – especially valuable is their rarity.
We survivors are rare – for the most part the worse the early trauma the rarer is the survivor? How do I VALUE that as an asset, as a resource in ME so I can use it to turn around and replenish what feels to be my very depleted resource store right now?
I don’t WANT to be rare. I had a terrible night of sleep last night – something rare for me (finally) for the most part. I orient myself toward being rested to care for the BABY the next day and usually from that center I can find sleep in spite of the DRONING in this building that has become my enemy in significant ways!
I found myself feeling so ANGRY last night that I had stolen from me through 18 years of extreme abuse and neglect from birth SO MUCH of what I needed – of what nonsurvivors of early trauma automatically possess – that I could USE when life gets tough! I have been robbed. No doubt about it!
NOW WHAT? That is always the droning question. We live in the NOW – no choice on that – so……NOW WHAT?
No matter WHAT, that’s ongoing life: now what
Enough with the WHATS and the THAT’S – those are SO not poetic words – but – WHERE would I be without them???
Damn river of words….
I step outside. The sky is blue. The air is warmer. Sunrays lengthen. Birds chirp. I am surrounded by ROARING traffic! No silence to greet me! No vistas. No hills and mountains. How to solace (sooth) myself in this cacophony of NOISE and roads and buildings?
A challenge. I have challenged myself. At such times we either MAKE IT or we BREAK IT.
Back inside. Footsteps. Tromping around on my ceiling. Sound: Visible or Invisible?
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