Remember December

Sometimes the holiday season 

Leaves a sour taste in my mind

Like a war head, so bitter

My brain plays tricks on me

Flashbacks grip at my shirt

And cling to my soul

But still I stand back up

Listen for the sound of the drum

And I continue

To have hope

Of something more

Something brighter

I reflect on how I used to shrug it all away

With a twisted face and quiet words

“Christmas just doesn’t work out for me”

This year emotions mixed hard

Like rocks grinding in a polisher

With every rough hit

There was a subtle smooth spot

I sat in a church

Staring at a cross

Reflecting and feeling everything move

Memories of good and bad

How much of my life happened 

Around tradition and religion

Yet there’s something about

Kneeling at a pew

That has always made me wonder

what love really means and 

Why sacrifice is related to it so often

The beauty in the story of a savior

And even at birth people giving their all

The wisemen and Shepards come in

But my favorite has always been

That little drummer boy

What a gift to play a beat that begins 

The March of a life here to save us all

I close my eyes to hear the tempo

To sink back into reality

I feel the pew against my back

Hear the bells of the kids

As joy to the world plays

And I think about my joys in life

Does Christmas really not work out?

Cause I come home each day

And I have some much

Maybe Christmas is more

Than presents and quick words

From rough relatives

Christmas is a rough time for me still

But I refuse to toss it all away

Because despite the pain

I can make more powerful 

Memories of joy and love

Presently stuck in the past

Paralyzed by emotions

Which is ironic

Because they pound through 

Me

Swift like an undertow

I choke down the tears

Trying desperately 

To ensure I show no fear

Sometimes words aren’t right

Like nothing could describe

The turmoil and muck

That churns my stomach

And unsteadies my heart

Breathing slowly

Rhythmic pattern

In hopes to ground

Shaking my head

And presenting with

A sour smile

The bitterness of memories

Dance on my tongue

And burn my senses

Blinding the current

Getting swept in the chaos

But pleading within

To not let me go there

Not again

Worlds can melt...

I've thought of how to compare you to the sky
I've pondered on how many sunrises and sunsets my eyes have seen in this life
I've searched for words, in the past, to describe the colors, the swirls of hues that sizzle to and from the horizon
But, as I gaze at your lips the colors are more magnificent than those I've ever seen from the sky
The pinks and peach with a small freckle poking through, just enough that you have to really look to find it
The way your lips curl like the mountains I've stood by as the sun drifted from the sky
I thought about the night sky, the way the stars shimmer so bright
I've reflected on past meteor showers that light up the darkness with flashes of wonder and wishes
And then, your eyes, your eyes could beat out any night sky, the glistening look you give when you are excited
The sparkle that surges through them making the colors show at a depth further than the moon from this spot
I thought and thought about how I could compare you to the skies and galaxies
But how can you compare someone that is your whole world to something as small as galaxies
How could I explain to anyone how your love warms the darkest coldest day like the sun on a frosty December morning
How could I express how your words have more pull on my heart than the moon on the oceans, as I crash and pulse harder with each "I love you" whispered from your mouth

I want to be an astronaut for you, I want to explore and trace and discover everything I can about you
Until you are mapped on my body and soul forever, because you are always going to be brighter than the stars to me

PTSD

PTSD
Four letters
That can strike at any point
One moment you are out having a good time...And BAM!
Like a brick wall you run into it all
Those words, those memories
The felling won’t come off of you
Like seaweed it sticks to your dry skin
Cracking and covering you up
Crashing like a hurricane, but the forecast didn’t even call for rain
You try to shake it all off
But how do you remove rubble that is invisible?
How do you yell to others to let them know you’ve been trapped?
How do you handle the crushing weight on your chest?
Barely breathing to conserve your energy
Those four letters that stop my day so often...
One may question how four little letters can cause such strife
Until you are stuck in the past, trying desperately to get back to life
PTSD

Pivotal puzzle points and Awareness

I've been contemplating all month (I know it's only five days into the month...) about whether or not I would write about this topic. But, today at work made the decision for me.

So I guess I'm going to start with some background information about my day and go from there. Today I woke up at six thirty after getting under four hours of sleep, I woke up miserable and exhausted and was bummed it was only Wednesday. I grabbed a banana and headed off to physical therapy. I had wrote down the wrong time and happened to arrive about thirty minutes before my appointment (actually thirty five because I cannot stand being late to anything). As I met with my physical therapist my mood lightened a little as we joked on my newest injury. I had a ten minute nap between therapy and preparing food for my day before work. Preparing food is like my least favorite task lately, I have switched to Gluten free due to my doctors thinking I might have Celiac disease (waiting on biopsy results still). I have been a mess since changing the diet, always hungry and irritable due to trying new foods (which means new textures). I got to work already spent for the day and sat down to think of how I could make my day easier. I work as a counselor at a congregate care facility ( in laymen terms a little more freedom than a group home for people with mental health diagnosis). About ten minutes into my shift the printer was broken and for some reason that was enough for me to not want to do anything. An hour goes by and I have a conversation that is the reason I will write today.

If you made it this far into my story bravo! Sometimes I add too much, or not enough, or irrelevant information. 

 I have written before of the struggles of having different physical and mental health issues. I have expressed the issues with having serve ADHD, with having a multi senses sensory processing disorder, with my recent physical health diagnosis of Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. There's one diagnosis though that I struggle to talk too much about. I have just started being proactive on different things I could utilize to help me perform any task to the best of my ability. I have been getting better at disclosing the appropriate information about why my mannerisms and behaviors aren't exactly like my neurotypical friends and coworkers. I have been called quirky, weird, unique, one of a kind, and many not so nice names because of how I act and react in day to day activities. I used to roll it off my back and not want to say the words, but here goes nothing, I am Autistic. I am on the spectrum and received an official diagnosis in college where I was terrified of what people would think if they knew. Within the past year though I have learned to embrace those words, to hold the power to educate and advocate to make my interactions easier on all parties involved. 


The year 1990, such an important one for so many reasons. One being I was born into this world, two (which is way more important) being the ADA ACT getting passed. Now flash forward into the present day, I am a counselor for a non-profit organization and I am someone who is covered under this ACT. My supervisor has been incredible with allowing some accommodations for my mental and physical issues that arise. I can use headphones when I can't focus on my billing, I can adjust my schedule accordingly to fit in all the doctors and physical therapy I need. Although today took the cake so to say for how she views accommodations. Today I was literally sliding off a coworker's chair in their office (trying to provide pressure to my back to help soothe me), two coworkers kinda questioned what I was doing. So me being me and being on the verge of a meltdown exclaimed how I was irritable and just wanted blankie time but I knew I couldn't have it until I got home. My supervisor had popped by at this point and I was asked what exactly blankie time was. I explained that just like I use headphones to help calm me or rock or walk around the office, I have this blankie that helps soothe me. I explained how the blankie overstimulates mutliple sensory inputs and I can take a few minutes with my blankie and it's like a factory reset. I become much more calm and relaxed and can better handle situations. My supervisor nonchalantly stated that I could bring my blankie to work as it was a reasonable accommodation. I COULD BRING MY BLANKIE TO WORK!!! This was a game changing statement for me. Since I had disclosed about me being on the spectrum, since they have seen me work better on rough days from other accommodations, since they have taken time to understand that sometimes I just need to adjust my environment so I can thrive at my job, since the ADA ACT is not just a piece of paper to them, I can accommodate in ways that will really show how good I can be in my position.
And that folks is why a month exists for awareness, because they are aware they can accommodate. Because of accommodations I have been able to show my full abilities as a counselor, I was promoted quickly in the company, I was able to impress the director and higher ups in with my work, and most importantly I am able to function well enough so I can advocate and assist my clients in all the areas they need. 

For the nights that it seems too rough

                 Honestly, it has been so hard to get my thoughts and feelings out. I struggle to comprehend the place I should be in life, the steps I take to go from where I was from to where I would like to be. I feel like a kid playing dress up some days, but the ironic thing is the dress clothes I wear tend to be too small for my stature. See, I never thought I'd make it this far in life, I lived in a cycle of depression that has kept me from really grasping the idea of a future. I say lived, but, truthfully I struggle day to day with the depression still. I'm grateful that I have a support group and had one for over the past ten years. I have come so far and it has been the help of so many that have gotten me out of some dark places. This time around though, I felt so embarrassed to reach out for help. I'm not in the places I was before, I have an apartment, I have a nice car, I have a job in my career field (hell I even have my own office), I have a supportive girlfriend, I have some solid supports. Yet, I get nervous to admit that I struggle still.

             I saw this comic the other day, it said "its just like riding a bike, or child abuse, you never forget". I laughed for it was so true. I may be in my field, I may be a counselor by day, but at night my life is filled with the tremors and torments from the past. The sweat soaked screams from the horrific nightmares and flashbacks that flood the dark hours get tucked away for a later day. Because, the ability to find a counselor while being a counselor is much harder than I thought it would be. Some days i get fearful that I'll never be able to live past the past. I hear the stories from others that are much older about how the nightmares never truly let up. I've told myself time after time that it is just because they don't work on my recovery like I did.

             I struggle at night, but the morning brings another day. It brings another good morning call from my girl as we wake up apart  in distance but still together. It brings another trip to Tim Horton's to grab a drink and a fist bump from the friendly drive-thru guys. It brings another day of fumbling with my keys while I try to balance the bags as I open my office door. It brings countless phone calls to other providers and the county with long hold times and great jokes from coworkers during the hold. It brings doctor appointments and gym days. It bring criminal minds binge watching with my cousin.

      It's hard to put everything in place like it should. Trying to decide how much a of impact my past will have on my future. I know it is part of my story, but it is not the whole story, yet I don't want to hide it away. I want to work through it, I want to be able to stand tall and say that did happen, that is where I came from, but it didn't destroy me, I have overcome so much and continue to surpass what I thought I could be. It is okay to still ask for help and struggle with these thoughts though.

To Dream

Can I just tell you that I used to dream,
sometimes
That I'd love to dream once more
But when it starts
I freeze, I choke
People say that ADHD
Makes your mind run fast
Too quick to catch up
But when mixed with my fears
These thoughts crawl
so slow, like molasses
I fall into a pit of quicksand
Where nothing can exist
I hardly see the moment in time
let alone a future
These dreams, they stopped
Because these fears can crush it all
It comes down to a mindset
I strive to dream, to become someone
To be more than this, to want more than this
But I feel frozen, stuck to ground
Wishing I could melt away
And when I do, when I finally start to
People say I am too fluttery
I flap around like a wounded bird
Can't you see though
the caged bird doesn't remember just how to fly
How can my dreams take flight
If I've barely adjusted to see through this meek light
When I hope, its a burden
When I press towards a goal, it becomes an Olympic sport
So I grit my teeth and show my muscles
Fighting everything blindly
Coming up with more battles scars
People say to focus, and practice makes perfect
But I'm looking through a busted kaleidoscope
And these life patterns that have taught me
I'm far from perfect, I'm far from right
That repetition of hurt words that make their mark
Leaving much more than a wounded heart
Stuck on the pain, and the beauty of these fragmented pieces
I see the world much different than before
People say time heals all things
Well I'll tell you in due time
Why this broken, cage-freed bird sings
The life spent stuck in my fears wanting to hope,
The sweat, the blood, the tears
Has made the most interesting masterpiece
I've seen so far, It leaves me breathless
Can I tell I wish to dream once more?
That I want to leave a different type of mark
One to show that I'm no longer stuck,
I might still be fragile, but I am free
I'm no longer held down by anything,
Or anyone,
No. Not even me.
Can I tell you that people may say a lot
But I say there is no need worry, just a need
To dream once more.