Mindful Manipulation

That’s what is happening right now. I am blinking my eyes. Unintentional hiatus coming to a close and I am able to reopen my computer and see if I remember how to type. Hand script is so hard on my hands now but I was writing notes like crazy. Still needed to write words, all the ideas and images down on paper so I might refer back.

Wowie, I forgot. My brain really needs a few more slow blinks, to be able to hear my voice again- get into the groove of the story again. Feels so good to be typing again despite the pain. One of my favorites descriptive phrases is: *shakes like a wet dog” which is another great way to describe this.

Word atrophy. My writing “voice” is all scratchy as the muscle wasn’t used enough! Yikes.

I figure the best way to clear my throat, so to speak, would be to… yep, write.

I have two blogs. This one, which is dedicated to speaking up and participating in my healing. The title White Knuckle Life is exactly what every moment of your life is. Those moments when you are driving in treacherous conditions and your grip on the steering wheel is so tight your knuckles are turning white. But it is inside your body, you are holding your muscles all over in that super tense grip. Issue is what you are gripping.

I would offer, gripping our minds. My mind. I am thinking so hard, that my body is trying to help my brain work by pushing or lifting really hard. Exserting myself physically, because of the racing thoughts. Even intense focus will make me forget to breathe or I’ll find myself clenching my teeth. Funny tangent* It used to drive my husband crazy when we would be sitting on the couch, watching tv, and my toes would not stop wiggling. I had no control over it. I would get back into the show and there my feet would start going again. I even made myself crack up once, all by myself. Watching an action movie, and I realized that the faster or more exciting the music would get, my feet would match. They were speeding up to the thrilling movie music. Made me laugh, but interesting I do that too. To this day.

That’s pretty cool, actually, that your body tries to help you, but it doesn’t feel very good. It actually hurts a lot. Despite the humor of catching myself wiggling my toes.

Little background there as explanation for where I have been and the lack of writing. Drove me nuts, this feels like jumping into a clear pool on a 99 degree day. It has also helped loosen the alphabet blocks, typing this post, and colors are tasting like feelings again.

My great big exhale, back into my world. Yes, the world has changed. Even just from a few months back. I admit to feeling fear about the act of feeling. The past two years have been the worst ever in my life. The jobs I worked damaged me irrevocably. Those are issues I need to be able to face, and comprehend what they are trying to teach me or say to me in that moment. I damaged myself by my inability to see what was happening and getting myself out faster. I still have nightmares. More nights than not. I want to scream and yell and ask why didn’t they see or say something? How can people be that cruel?

Okay, I was able to have my tantrum. It was under control, I didn’t fall apart in tears or start shaking and itching with hives either. That is progress. Brilliant. I can also write it here without the adrenaline spurt to my stomach as well. I have time for another blInk, A pause. A breath.

This is everything. When you are dealing with a White Knuckle Life, one of your most important useful tools is your breath. Breathing. Everyone has to, no one can fault you and be mad or be insultive no matter how hard they try about a person needing to breathe.

Wow, that actually happened to me though. My breathing annoyed co workers. BIGGEST EYEROLL EVER*

More progress though. I can find humor, even if it is sarcastic at best.

My “I”, within blink, represents the choice to, blink. The “I” is the “who” within me, paying attention to me paying attention. Where all the information goes. That decision maker recognizes the need to pause. To blink and clear your view. Giving myself permission to take a breath, even a big loud deep teenager sigh one. (No, I couldn’t help breathing heavier in the heat and humidity and in trying to keep up to the desired, excuse me, required speed while exserting yourself.)

This is me, taking a little control back. Greasing up the fingers and the descriptions, and the whole language vocabulary thing. I love all that. I have no illusions of being the next J.K. Roweling, but boy do I enjoy this. Writing. Expressing. It will guide me through this changed world. It’s surprising to realize things were fogging, but you couldn’t see it was clouding your vision. Happened to slow or traumatically.

I am going to copy and paste this post to my other blog. https://wordpress.com/post/whiteknucklelife.wordpress.com/212

Then I am going to start putting things back where they belong, getting my groove back on, and make some more progress.

Least I am heading up!

Thanks for the read;

K`