My Evening With “Satchmo”…And A Wonderful World

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I must admit I’m struggling a bit tonight. I’ve stumbled across that Minotaur and we’re slugging it out pretty fiercely. But I refuse to yield my optimism or my determination. As I’m sitting here, wrestling with that primeval beast within myself, a song suddenly came to mind and I’ve been playing it over and over and over again.

As I sit here, watching the sun set on a clear, warm, beautiful day in the city, the home, that I love so dearly, I think about the song “What A Wonderful World,” by Louis Armstrong (nickname “Satchmo”).

The world is a beautiful place…it’s people who can choose to make it ugly. I choose to offer a wonderful world…

There are some times when thinking is not only cumbersome, but interferes with the business of living. Sometimes, we just need to enjoy the act of “being.” Sometimes, we just need to watch the sunset, and listen to a song which speaks of beauty and peace.

If you don’t want to click the link, here are the lyrics:

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying “how do you do?”
But they’re really saying “I love you.”

I hear baby’s cry, and I watched them grow
They’ll learn much more than I’ll ever know
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.
Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

Be Well, My Friends
Theseus

“I Am” Is Quite Enough!

Just got back from my chiropractors appointment. Yea, I may be experiencing the onset of arthritis. This, of itself, is a bit of a bummer. But if it’s true, the more ominous thing is that means my autoimmune system is starting to attack the rest of my body again. The consequences of that are anyone’s guess.

I’m committed to being positive and proactive. But news like this fires up my anxiety and I have to work very hard to confront it and ease it back. Anxiety due to neurochemistry or physiology is one thing, but that doesn’t mean I have to nurture and “feed” it. To free myself from the aversion to anxiety, the discomfiture of it, is something I strive for. To free myself from attachments to it, to free myself from being possessed and controlled by anxiety, is something I can certainly do. That doesn’t mean I can make it go away, but I can snub my nose at it and refuse to let it get any deeper “into the castle.” If all I can do is offer defiance, then I offer the best, strongest defiance I can.

I’m finding a new strength and determination. This is largely due to the earnest, gracious support I’ve gotten from this blogging community. You all have helped me more than you know. A stupid little thing, a “like” or brief comment absolutely makes my day and makes me feel like I have 10,000 people behind me. The effect that this has on me is something I can’t fully describe.

I thank you. I’m most grateful to you all.

As I said, I want to be positive and proactive. I want to remain that stubborn, hopelessly optimistic, idealistic, audacious “Theseus” who sits on the mast and challenges God to an accounting. Yes, I’m a Quaker. Yes, I’m a spiritual person. But I’m also the “black sheep” of God’s family and I refuse to be patronized or keep quiet about it!

One of my challenges is that I see all of what could have been, rather than what is. Focusing on what could have been is a poison which ravages the soul and leads to darkness. The attachments to things which “might have been,” take away from manifesting myself in the present of what actually is. What “could have been” is a fantasy, “what is” provides the opportunity to answer the great existential question. There is vital purpose and meaning to “what is.” Dwelling on anything else is a betrayal of my purpose, meaning and very existence: It’s a contemptuous refuting of that existence. There’s value in what is. There’s meaning in what is. For whatever reason, there’s a very valid purpose to what is.

Desiring or craving “what could have been” is only a half step from what I wanted, but never could have. This will deaden one’s soul.

I want to be an all pro quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles, guiding my beloved home and team to 10 Superbowl rings. Ain’t gonna happen.

I want to be Paul McCartney or Tony Banks (from the music group “Genesis”). Guess what? Ain’t gonna happen.

But why is it so terrible to be who and what I am? If I’m always focused on who and what I’m not, I’ll never understands what it means to be all that I actually am. I am a father. I am a husband. I (am coming to believe) that I’m some sort of writer who supports and encourages people all over the world, none of whom I’ve ever met. These things are a sacred trust. Why do I cast them aside so flippantly? How can I be so callous and dead to all that I am? There is value and meaning and purpose in being who I am. Even in pain and suffering, I say there is value…and meaning…and purpose to it all. Why do I discard my appointed task and path?

I am who I am, as I am, for a purpose – a very valid purpose. An essential purpose and reason.

I’m not here as an accident or mistake, and neither are you! We live in the perfection of who we are. To deny or ignore this is nothing less than sacrilege. We live in the perfection of who we are…and we are that perfection in living as we are.

I became physically ill because of the effects of CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder). This is my path and my challenge to confront. Come what may, I accept this challenge and defy anything and everything blocking my path. From the deepest crevasse and the darkest places, I cry out defiantly:

I…simply…am.

I wish you all strength, and courage, audacious determination, and as always…

Be (Most) Well, My Friends
Your Friend, Theseus!

Is My Body Attacking My Body Again? I’m Quite An Income Stream.

I’m going to see my chiropractor this morning, so I’m going to mention the pain I’ve been experiencing in my knuckles. It’s been going on for a couple of months and I’m hoping it’s just that I’m getting older and am more sensitive to the weather. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to know, however. For a number of reasons, my immune system started attacking different systems in my body and this lead to not just the problems with my thyroid, but other issues as well. Because I’ve been ill for so long and so many different things have happened, I dread getting my joints checked out. I don’t know about others, but with my being chronically ill, every time I get some ache or pain, there’s a part of me that assumes some new illness or problem has started: I’m always paranoid that something else is going wrong.

I don’t want to get into a whole discussion about health care and politics. There’s just too much contentiousness and conflict out there and, quite frankly, I have plenty of issues in my own life to deal with without getting into arguments with other people. What I can say speaks to my own experience, not vague scenarios. Originally, I had a good job. The insurance I had with the company was the best in the state and my wife and I bought into the highest level of coverage available (because we were anticipating our son’s birth). Since then, my son got sick, I continue to be sick, I haven’t been able to work in many years and all the retirement, savings and credit we once had was wiped out more than 10 years ago. I never minded paying my fair share. I don’t even mind paying more than my fair share if that would help others in more dire circumstances. The problem is that I’ve become nothing more than an income stream.

When my son and I both started getting sick, we were both misdiagnosed. Fortunately, we kept going to different doctors and hospitals until we found out what was going on and what we could do about it. For me, it took longer. I started getting ill in 1998 and it wasn’t until 2011 that I finally found someone who accurately diagnosed what was going on and knew what to do about it.

After I had lost my tech job, I tried to work somewhere, at something. The only work I could get, even as I continued to be misdiagnosed and my health increasingly declined, was part time work at a minimum wage job. I took it just to continue working and contribute. I made $ 200 a week, before taxes. The insurance from that job didn’t even cover the $ 300 of medications I was being prescribed at the time. Years later I came to find that not only were the medications not helpful, but they contributed to my health problems getting worse. Even today, the helpful supplementation which my chiropractor prescribes – and which actually work – aren’t covered, so they remain out of pocket costs. I can’t even get a renewal of my synthroid medication without having to go in to an medical doctors office and pay for a visit. I don’t take any controlled substances. The dosage rarely changes (and not by much). I don’t even have to get blood-work done. The doctor comes in a and says “you need a refill.” I say “yes.” The doctor goes to her lap top and clicks a button. Then says “okay, it’s waiting for you at the pharmacy.”

The frustrating thing is that I’ve never asked for something for nothing. Before I got sick I worked hard and played by the rules. I did all the things I was supposed too and didn’t expect hand outs or freebee’s. I actually could have gotten my college tuition from my grandparents, but felt at the time that it wasn’t their place to do what my parents were supposed to do in the first place. So I worked and paid my own way without asking for anything from anyone.

The frustrating thing is that I have nothing to show for any of it.

The frustrating thing is that when I did get sick, no one believed it. I was told I was just lazy or misdiagnosed with depression. (depression certainly is valid, but it’s just not something I struggle with personally).

The frustrating thing is that the only thing I’m valued for at this point is a continued income stream.

The frustrating thing is that now that I am sick, no one want’s what I can offer and I’m only viewed as a “preexisting condition.”

As I said before, I hope my joints hurt because I’m just getting older and the weather effects them. I don’t need another illness to contend with.

Sorry for the bummer entry. I’ll be okay, it just is what it is.

Be Well, My Friends
Theseus

Cortisol And Dr. Who

The fatigue just hit me about an hour ago. This is a challenge, because it makes everything else heavier to carry. It also inclines me towards all the negative: thoughts, anxieties, hopelessness, irritability and more. Many years ago, all the doctors I went to assumed the fatigue was due to depression…but no one bothered to do any blood-work to rule out other causes. (Let me just say that taking anti-depression medication when your not depressed not only doesn’t help anything, but adds more problems). When I finally found a doctor who understood what was going on, she found, with blood-work and hormone testing, that the reason for my bouts of fatigue were due to a low Cortisol level. My adrenal glands were not functioning properly and this was (and remains) the cause of my fatigue as well as struggles with insomnia (at night).

I have to take credit here. I haven’t been following the prescribed diet or supplementation that I’m supposed to. Trouble is that it takes 6 months to a year for things to really kick in and take effect. Basically, the only way to better health is to help my body to heal itself. There is no magic pill. The difficulties 2 years ago not only reignited many of my past stressors and troubles, but it got me off track with the regimen my doctor set up for me. I’m not looking forward to waiting 6 months or a year for my symptoms to improve. But the big challenge isn’t diet, exercise and the medications, it’s the residue of what happened back in 2014. A lot of things got triggered. There were consequences of what happened which I’m still struggling with now. I have to get over that first, before I can expect to get back in the rhythm of the diet and supplementation. If I’m in intense pain and don’t care, why should I bother with the rest.

I’m trying to do some things, resting when I need to. On my last break, I was wondering what the point is and why I’ve had the (continued) experiences that I’ve had. I wondered why I was here.

Interestingly, I was watching Dr Who and this quote came up:

Dr Who, “The Pandoric Opens”

RORY: But I don’t understand. Why am I here?

THE DOCTOR: Because you are.

Believe it or not, that actually made sense to me!

Just doing what I can. We’ll have to see how it all plays out today.

Be Well, My Friends
Theseus

Confronting My Anxiety

I was thinking about my last entry and anxiety. It’s a challenging thing to deal with as I’m always on edge to a certain extent. It just depends on how powerful it is and how much I’m able to beat it back or cope with it. Sometimes are easier than others. If I’m feeling relatively well rested and the symptoms of my illness aren’t too bad, it’s generally more manageable. But with fatigue, lack of sleep, headache, nausea, joint pain and more. I don’t want to do anything, much less wrestle with powerful emotions.

One thing which helps is ensuring, as best as I’m able, that my surroundings and circumstances are not stressful or overwhelming. If I’m trying to deal with conflict or there’s some crisis going on, it’s hard to summon enough strength and resources to deal with both. But even when things are peaceful, anxiety is draining all by itself. It saps not only my strength, but self assurance and general sense of well being. Intense emotions are draining. Being in a state of constant “readiness” and fear can be truly exhausting even when all my surroundings are calm and peaceful. Anxiety hashes my mello, man…and that pisses me off! (lol)

This is one of the reasons why I’m trying to be mindful and aware. I can’t challenge something if I give it free reign to ravage and pillage all through the inner part of myself. But this is not easy. First, the anxiety must be at a level where I can actually face it head on. If I’m on the verge of panic, I may not be able to face it directly at that moment. Over the years I’ve had to be sure that I was in a safe place, around safe people, in order to allow myself to be mindful enough to allow for a glimpse of it before slamming the door shut again. It’s taken me a long time to be able to actually “sit there” within myself, and actually stare back at it for any length of time. Decades of therapy have been invaluable in being able to get to that point. Once I got to the point where I could be in the same room with it (so to speak), once I could face it without trying to race away in terror and pain, only then could I start to work at reducing it or at least coping with it to any small degree.

Another, more recent thing, is learning how to “detach” from this “aversion.” In Buddhism, the thing which causes pain and discontentment in life are the attachments to desires (pleasures) or aversions (pain). To address this, the Buddha offered the “Noble 8 Fold Path” (which I’m not an expert on and won’t get into here). To free myself from the attachments that my anxiety has on my has proven helpful, but difficult, and as of yet I still haven’t been able to reach a point where I can utilize it for complete relief. Attachments are like feeling gripped by something, to feel almost possessed by something. For me, falling in love is such an experience. It fills me. I experience the emotional sensations surge within and I feel lost within that emotional experience. It was the same thing the night my son was born. I was completely lost in the emotions I experienced. That feeling of being “lost in it”…that’s what attachments are.

I had some kind of an awareness of such things before I read anything about Buddhism. I would think it’s a common experience to, at times, almost be able to internally “watch” one’s self as an almost separate entity. Perhaps my experiences with disassociation have helped me notice and further develop this separate yet internal awareness of watching myself, yet still be within myself. I don’t know. Disassociation usually means I completely zone out and am just about completely numbed out, both in emotion and mind.

However I discovered this, my imagination is such that I can actually picture something like anxiety as if it were in a separate, isolate space within me. Sometimes I can do it intellectually, but still be lost within the emotion of it. Other times I can place it in a separate space both in thought as well as emotion. At times when I’ve been able to do this – and it’s not common or often – I do feel better. That doesn’t mean it still doesn’t cause that vigilant “fight or flight” fear response of anxiety, but somehow it seems to be more manageable and tolerable.

This isn’t a cure all, some magical technique or a way to just “get over it and move on” (I hate that!). I still experience anxiety and likely will for the rest of my life. But if I can make it more manageable. If I can be better able to tolerate it and sort of separate it from the core of who I am, then I finally have a weapon I can fight back with. I may not be able to overcome it most times and may often not be able to summon the strength to wield the weapon, but the fact is I have it and (more importantly) I know that it’s there, that I have access to something. This is a much better situation than believing and feeling that I have no choices, no hope and no way of defending myself (against negative emotions like anxiety). I don’t want pity or well intended suggestions, I want something to fight back with on my own! The only person you can never escape from and the only one who will always be with you…is yourself.

Be Well, My Friends
Theseus

Helping My Son With Anxiety…As I Struggle With It Myself

One of the surprising things I’ve come across with in the WordPress world are the number of people who struggle with anxiety. It shouldn’t surprise me, but for some reason it did.

I struggle with anxiety myself. Part of it is fed by CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder) and the way my experiences altered my brain structure and chemistry. I react more intensely to normal, every day things and at the same time, my brain is less able to process any intense emotions. Frickin’ bummer, but I do what I can. There are techniques of redirection, meditation, deep breathing and the like which I’ve learned over the years and help me cope with anxiety, even if I can’t dissipate it or make it go away. Another reason for my anxiety is my thyroid illness. Unfortunately, one of the symptoms of thyroid disease is anxiety. Even though the medication and supplements I’ve been taking have improved my overall health, anxiety is still a problem and there isn’t much I can do about it except learning how to cope with it. This is really why I want a quiet, unremarkable life. I already struggle, even with quietude and within a peaceful space. I’ve never felt comfortable in the loud, rushing, confrontational world which is the predominant way of living in the north eastern part of the United States. I love my home of Philadelphia, but it’s not the laid back patrician area that it was when I was growing up. I really miss and long for that old Philadelphia, what I believe is (was) the real Philadelphia.

Anyway, my son also struggles with anxiety. Part of the cause for him is that anxiety is a common symptom of autism. Again, not much to be done. Another cause is all of the therapies he was subjected to when he was younger. It’s hard to grow up and constantly be in therapy. My son grew up with “don’t do this,” “do that,” “do this a different way,” “let’s practice that again” and so on. Constantly being redirected and corrected (for his own safety, not our convenience) has had an impact on him. It’s increased his difficulty with self confidence and feeds the anxiety which is a symptom of the issue which required all the therapy in the first place.

Anxiety is tough to deal with on a daily basis. My son loses the ability to think and speak when his anxiety spikes. He knows what he wants to say, but his brain is unable to form speakable thoughts. This is very frustrating for him. It’s intensely frustrating for all autistic young people who struggle with this and, from what I’ve seen, is the ultimate reason why some become aggressive or violent. You can see the deep frustration and anger on their faces: Knowing the idea of what you want to say, but just not being able to express it in anyway – as a life long disability – is something that I know I would find enraging. I don’t know how I would respond to that kind of difficulty.

We’re fortunate with my son. Somehow, all the therapies worked well enough that he’s able to formulate those thoughts if he can reduce his anxiety and take his time. The thing which has made it easier for him is that I’ve learned to take him by the shoulders and gently pat him on the back. In my calmest, most peaceful, reassuring voice, I always say “that’s okay, buddy. Take your time. No worries. Think it through.” I know that if he senses my anxiety and frustration about his not being able to speak, this significantly increases his anxiety and he completely looses the ability to articulate himself. It’s been vital for him to, in effect, “feed” off my calmness while he struggles as well as the reassurance that doing what he can, in his own way and own time is not only all right, but is a way of being. If he see’s me calm and not impatient or irritated, he’s able to take on that calmness as well and use the techniques he’s learned to be able to find the words and express his thoughts. It’s taken a lot of work over the years – and I suspect more than a bit of luck – but he’s able to express himself, by knowing how to calm himself – rather well.

With my own anxiety issues, it’s sometimes difficult to give him the support he needs. I can’t hide anything from my partner or son. They know me too well. I do what I can, but I’m also honest with him if I’m struggling. I’ll tell him that I need a minute with the result that I’m working to calm myself down and give him the emotional support he needs as he’s trying to reduce his anxiety to find the expression of his thoughts.

My anxiety is interesting. I’ve explained the origin’s and it’s taken me many years to understand where it comes from. The worst was when I didn’t understand or know the cause. Before I had a better understanding, I would assume (quite reasonably) that the anxiety was do to the situation I was in or the people I was with. This make me more neurotic, because I was assuming a connection between the anxiety and something or someone with which there was no connection or the connection was that they reminded me of my parents or a situation of my past. Not knowing what was going on made this emotion difficult to live with and made daily living difficult, often immobilizing.

But understanding better creates a different challenge. My anxiety simply exists, as a state of being. It always tries to lach onto and infuse itself into any negaive thought, experience or worry that I have. It’s always looking for something – some thought or emotion – to infect. It’s a real pain in the ass.

There are some techniques to alleviate the worst of it. But even with these, there are some times when the only thing I can do is just get through the day. I can’t function, I just do what I can to get through the day. Sometimes the best thing I can do is be mindful of the fact that the anxiety is a lie. Because I feel it, it’s valid, but the underlying causes are sometimes out of my control. At such times, I do the best I can to not “feed” and increase it’s power. If I can’t reduce or dissipate it, I can at least work at not allowing it to get worse by deliberately contributing to it. Cold comfort, but I do what I can.

Be Well, My Friends
Theseus

Insomnia Of Fear

There are some nights when my physical illness prevents me from sleeping. This makes for very long nights, listening to the seconds slowly tick by. These endless nights are followed by days of exhaustion and mental fogginess. The inability to sleep, further impacts my health because it’s at night that healing and (mental / emotional) processing takes place.

There are other nights like tonight when I’m awakened by some intruding thought or idea which invokes intense anxiety and fear. The slow ticking of the clock on these nights is worse than any of the nightmares I’ve ever had. These are waking nightmares from which there is no relief.

Earlier this evening, my wife was talking with me about a meeting she had and mentioned that she would be retiring in about 10 years. When she said this, I winced. I winced because we can’t really afford the life we live right now. All the savings that we had was wiped out more than 10 years ago and it’s only recently that we’ve been able to get back to the level of living paycheck to paycheck. How she thinks she can retire in 10 years is beyond my comprehension. If my son had not gotten ill. More so, if I had not become ill and not lost my job in the tech field, retirement would have been possible. I would have had to work beyond retirement myself, but that would have been fine with me so long as my wife and son were taken care of.

In the past week or so, I’ve written a number of things which may seem to paint a picture of happiness and contentment with my family. All of the things I wrote about were true. But there have been and are still difficulties. I’m not now trying to say things are awful, but this entry may help to balance out what may have seemed a more skewed picture of life here. We live in the real world, not that of the Brady Bunch.

There are certain things my wife has always had difficulty with. One of them has been control over finances and this is due to issues of her childhood which would not be appropriate for me to get into detail here. Suffice to say, many (if not most) women reading this know what it’s like to be dominated and controlled. One of the ways that dominance and control is lauded over women is through money and finances. For myself, I grew up with so much conflict, violence and power struggles, that I have difficulty setting healthy boundaries and asserting, even pushing, for certain things. Finances have been one of those areas. The trouble is, I’m a saver and a budgeter. I look ahead and skimp now so that things will be easier later. My wife has had a different perspective about these things. Combined with medical expenses and my inability to work, there is nothing to retire on.

When we first met, my feeling was that if there were certain things she needed control over, I was alright with that. In any relationship, compromise and accommodation are acts of deference, respect..and most of all, love. So long as the important things were mutually agreed upon and I was able to get myself established, I really didn’t care about other things. If allowing my partner more control over things like the finances and the bills, I didn’t have a problem with that.

The problem is that another tendency is that her loyalties were focused on her friends, her parents and their family. This sometimes (I would say often) superseded the loyalty and attention I believe should have been given you her own spouse and child. While I don’t mind accommodating and extending myself to my partners friends and family, I believe ultimate loyalty and dedication belongs, first, to one’s partner and children. I don’t expose my wife or son to the demands or abuse of my parents or their family – and for good reason. Yet, as I became more ill and incapacitated, my wife’s lack of focus and commitment to helping me became a source of my feeling profoundly betrayed and abandoned. Since then, there have been some adjustments, but her focus has shifted from the extremes of friends and family to her career and networking peers.

I’m not trying to intimate that I’m the only injured party. We both carry scars which were inflicted by the other and we’re still in the middle of trying to figure out how to change the worst of what we’ve inflicted on each other and offer healing and support in place of those things. The difficulty has been our struggle to address and resolve both my son’s illness as well as my own. The strain of just trying to survive has been intense and led us both (in the past) to revert to survival instincts. These survival instincts changed the positive ways we complimented and helped each other, into all the worst of what we triggered in each other.

One of the results of all this is that I have no marketable skills and an almost complete lack of experience in anything but trying to attend college classes and work at minimum wage jobs. Some attention and support on my spouses part would have helped to at least alleviate the worst of this situation. But her attention has been elsewhere and no one, including my wife, believed I was legitimately ill until I finally found a doctor who knew what was going on and was able to spell it out very clearly.

This has been a source of rage for me and is something I continue to struggle with in relating and living with my spouse.

I’ve written that I love and adore my wife. I wasn’t trying to deceive in that assertion. I do. Marriage is a challenge. Parenthood is a challenge. Life is not an exclusive “right” or “wrong,” a “black” or “white” choice. It’s a very deep, foggy grey which can be confusing and disorienting as we make our way along. I suspect that this is at least one reason for divorce. I condemn no one who’s broken up with a partner or gotten divorced. Marriage is a difficult path quite frankly and, sometimes, love just isn’t enough. But for a number of reasons, my wife and I are still together and we’re both working very hard to heal ourselves as well as each other. The important point is that we’ve both gotten to the point where we’re willing and able to reach out to each other and work towards meeting in the middle of our wants, needs and…well, quite frankly, neurosis. For us, that’s made all the difference.

My wife’s unrealistic expectations about retirement is something I need to urgently discuss with her tomorrow. This situation needs to change. I’m not as ill as I was 10 years ago and if she wants to retire, then I need to be the one to find a way to earn enough income to make this possible. I don’t mind working. When younger, I worked harder and longer hours than anyone I’ve met in my life. I don’t even mind working while still physically unwell (as long as I’m actually capable of doing it). I do love and adore my wife, but she’s a person who focuses on solving problems within the moment. I’m a “big picture” guy and can see the consequences of what today will have on the future. This isn’t a bad thing. Our differences compliment each other. Together, we cover all the bases of what needs to be done in the moment, yet seeing and addressing what the needs of the future are.

I’ve spent my life terrified of living in poverty or ending up on the street. I worked so hard and was so terrified of ending up destitute that I suspect I ended up triggering the thyroid / adrenal / immune system illness which has immobilized me for all these years. I don’t know how my wife thinks we’re going to live after 10 years, but she’s going to have to start planning more long term (and “big picture”). I know that she still has a need for control over certain things…but she’s going to have to address at least her need for financial control – or learn to give me some semblance of support – in order for that 10 year deadline to be tenable.

I can’t sleep tonight. I’m terrified of what the future holds. Not only am I physically ill, but I continue to be tormented by CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder) symptoms…in part because my partner has triggered symptoms for many years, rather than helped me heal and grow beyond them.

I know for a fact that I’ve done my own share of harm. It’s just difficult to live in the “grey” of life.

Well have to see how all this works out.

Be Well, My Friends
Theseus