Journaling

About Attachment

Begging forgiveness for the length and apologies for the choppiness: your copy has been majorly stripped; sections were written decades apart, and it contains references to people/events not explained.

Moral of The Story

• Farrier School was special. Leaving Oregon made it seem like it never happened.
• My mom’s decision to relocate to Madison, to follow my brother to grad school, definitely was a defining moment in my life.
• Todd was first mutual, wholesome, adult relationship, if 19 is considered adult. In Oregon there was a potential the relationship could have grown. From Wisconsin: none.
• Leaving friends from OSU was painful; one more reminder of all the times I moved and left friends behind to start over in a new town, house, and school.
• Feeling helpless, controlled, and having a lack of ownership in my future.
• Doing so well at hiding the depression, no one knew; no one knew how badly I needed help.
• Written at age 19, “May 1983,” has become a significant example of how writing has been one of my coping mechanisms for depression or anxiety.

Rugby Connection

At age 45, I enjoyed training and playing rugby. I was envious of the college age women on the team. I greatly wondered what would have happened if I had somehow found the UW-Madison women’s rugby team at age 20, as a junior in 1983?

The Ask

• Help me grieve age 19.
• Identify what is it about this time that makes It a wound that won’t heal..

What do I get out of therapy?

Though it may not seem as if I don’t like/want to be challenged, in truth, I do. Receive fresh perspective. To hang out with someone I like and who likes me in return with the added benefit to dwell in a safe place to get honest feedback. [and like is an appropriate provider/client relationship type of like — and can we agree such a disclaimer is not needed every time language of that ilk is used? Would you agree that we have worked our way through all that confusion?) A human to send, and sometimes talk about, significant events both past and present. Talk to someone who seems to have a good barometer regarding what is right or wrong.

What do I want out of therapy?

Repeatedly, I’ve been told that I need to work through my childhood trauma in order to stop unhealthy behaviors or thinkings in my present and future. Not sure exactly what work through actually means, but I do have a plethora of stories to share. Be an audience for select show and tell items. Receive more challenges, even if I don’t like them right away. Tell me when I am doing good and when I’m making mistakes. Don’t leave.

Roommate – 0
Sleep – increased
Penpal – new email; YEAH!
Core Ball – balancing resumed, improved 1:10 min
Factor75 – disappointing, forgetting to eat, halved weekly shipment
Pregabalin – PDoc AE increased dosage. 50mg daily bedtime + 25mg multi/day.
The “hamster” – Badger, the guinea pig, making progress on a clean leap through tire jump.
Reclaiming my space – Brady hired to help again. Cute guy who does good work and unknowingly co-regulates. Will it work second time? Whatever, get stuff done = good.
Mattress/boxspring – Gone, for hefty fee.
Friend – deep sigh about my new hiking boots. She says, “why do you need new boots, you never go outside anyway?” WTF! Madison slushy sidewalks, deep snow in No. WI.
Max – I want to throttle the cat because he’s always hungry. I am getting woke up at 3, 4, or 5am. He wants a midday feeding at 2pm.
Work – slowly climbing out of huge slump of non productivity. I take little time off all year, I am now scrambling to schedule time off to prevent unused leave going poof at year end. Fridays off = Tim in morning, rest of day able to obsess over what I did or didn’t learn.
Snowboarding – verified can I? PT Cynthia says possible; real or not real. Real.
Chris Williamson – video about embracing smallest of joy. Resonated.
Feeling – there should be dire consequences for anyone who puts up plastic or inflatable lawn decorations for the holidays; nail biting is no longer in recession; social anxiety high for attending Government Digital Summit on Thursday 12/4.

Financial aid for a relative – the ask has grown, quite a bit. e.g.: she wants me to drastically reduce my spending for a month to have more funds available for her debts. My spendaholic habit ceasing entirely overnight, right? In addition to a bunch of other details I don’t want to do, she wants to max out my credit card for her bills. Tim wins. Amazing growth. 15mo decreased to 1mo to firmly say, “No.” However, I won’t get the merit badge unless I say No a few more times yet.
 
Couple months ago, I opted to cancel the recommended bladder biopsy to avoid the co-pay; since no symptoms, decided: why bother? I mentioned the biopsy to Pat. She says when the loan goes through, there will be plenty of money to pay off my credit card and afford the medical treatment. Pat is not hearing my No.
 
This week, cracked tooth. Fixed via sanding sharp edge. Since x-rays were out of date, found numerous cavities and crowns needed. December, urgency to have some of the work done during the 2025 dental coverage.
 
Perhaps be depressed and do nothing, because there is no current teeth pain and life doesn’t matter anyway…
 
Or, take advice of my dentist and follow treatment plan he recommends. Definitely not mentioned to Pat that I’ve opted for a 40hr cash pay out at end of year to handle some of my unused benefit leave time, which would cover 2025 patient dental cost.
 
WTF, why does muck keep stealing my 1500 characters? Had better stuff planned to focus on.
 
Feeling: bullied, grief about Claude limits

Q10. Do you know what you want out of life?
 
This question is difficult to answer when I’m constantly reminded that I don’t want to be 70 years old. I don’t want to be 65, but I’m giving myself a five year buffer in case I’m wrong and need to readjust my assessment later. The attempt to take daily gratitude serious is hard. I think about it, but forget to make a deposit. The act is not yet truly being done by me. It is more about following a positive suggestion. I have my container and objects in a visible and convenient location. Close by is the repository of ‘gratitudes in waiting.’ I keep one with me at all times like a worry stone or fidget toy. An understanding is the practice can pull in more positivity, which can lead to life improvement and wellness.
 
Want out of life?
Wanting needs to be about possible.
Hopes & Dreams are about fantasy.
 
In junior high (1976), a time of physical abuse, I was incredibly unhappy. However, I made a pact with myself that I would not commit suicide then. I would tough it all out until I graduated from 8th grade. Maybe high school would be better or different. Then high school started. Not what I’d hoped. I don’t know at what point I reevaluated the pact. I decided I would not commit suicide until I graduated from high school. I endured. After HS graduation, the self pact was updated one more time. I would take no direct action until I graduated from college. I guess I did pretty good. I didn’t attempt suicide until February 2019.

Revisiting Homework, Happy Things. Picking one, kneel on core ball, put in motion.
 
A once favorite weight training exercise, laying on a core ball in a bridge to do chest presses. One day, waiting for KTT, I was screwing around holding the core ball with my knees > irresistible urge to have knees and palms on the ball perfectly balanced. Kevin saw, said some people can actually kneel on top of the ball, body upright, fully balanced. Seriously? Yes, he was completely serious. With much practice: I succeeded. KTT was incredibly impressed, and of course he added to the challenge, “Why only 1 min?” And, over time, longer, and longer I did.
 
Breathe is essential for balance: deep breathing and fully relaxing, to let your body sink into the ball. There is a tiny leap of faith at the beginning, rolling forward with your weight to enter the calm fight to find balance.
 
Moral: when I can glance the clear possible successful goal, mixed with the right motivation, and desire for proving to self (and others)…
 
2025 is it possible to repeat? In apartment practicing 10 days. Day 1=0 sec > four points touching, 10 sec. Long way from just knees on ball, balancing with body fully upright. The purple core ball is near my recliner. With a simple glance, I see it. When I walk past it, I hear the whisper, try again.
 
Sunday, the first time in ten days, I was suddenly distracted by a sharp pain in my right knee. What if four points, at 10 seconds is all I get? Have I lost this happy thing?

Wanting < does not equal> Possible

The items on the “what’s coming up / look forward to” list can’t include unavailable endeavors.
 
Walking in perfect fluffy snow in newly purchased, comfy hiking boots produces a flood of memories, of how the same deep snow was a warrior cry to head over to Tyrol Basin and spend the day snowboarding. The joy of snowboarding was taken away even before the full replacement surgery on my knee, from other treatments and surgeries.
 
Dec 2000-Jan 2009 was all about ‘skateboarding’ into the chairlift line, dismounting the chairlift without falling, perfecting the hockey stop, running the moguls, avoiding the death cookies, challenging the black diamond runs, or attempting the paths through the trees.
 
Now, the regret of never taking a jump, taking the path through the trees at full speed, traveling to another hill/mountain, reaching the athletic ability to sit up to stand (an entire snowboard career of turtle rolls is shaming).
 
Night. Falling and laying face up on the deserted slope… feeling both at peace looking at the stars and yet the same situation another run, being engulfed in grief, sadness, loneliness. For, joy can’t nullify inner turmoil; only in unplanned, limited duration.
 
Walking in fluffy snow, wearing new boots, and struggling to travel the tiny distance between house and barn: whole body physically weak.

Escaping with the Escape
 
Long empty highway. Easy to test the limits. 90mph
 
Reached the snow line.
 
Driving in snow, stay in the wheel paths. No ice. Miles and miles…
 
Final turn into the driveway. Clipped the deep bank. Stuck in snow. Tomorrow’s problem.
 
Hanging out — someone else’s family. Everything normal.
 
Middle of night, while all is dark, much like a weighted blanket, George laid his heavy doggie head in my lap; nostalgia floods and especially nice in the present. But only lasted a moment.
 
Unstuck from snow, tow rope.
 
Driving home. Finding my pace car. Deciding when to chase the lead car.
 
Wanting to scream the radio, but there is only static or unwanted. I need more volume of rock and drums.
 
Need to select another pace car and follow them home. There are no pace cars in the real life.
 
Happiness is fleeting. It doesn’t last. Is it about surviving until the next time it happens?

Like, roundabouts are fun. That was five seconds of enjoyment.
 
Enterprise clerk asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
I replied, “Can I keep the Escape?”

Thank you for offer to proof read.

Email sent.

Everything that happened… before leaving to up North:
 
Win = Picked up Ford Escape Wednesday night
Win = Within 10 min in Madison, I learned that I KNOW how to drive; not driving Philip’s shit bomb, reminded me how much I love to drive. Power: results in no fear to merge, transfer lanes, make turns from a light or stop. Comfort: sitting up high to see the canvas and no pain entering/exiting.
Win = shopping at REI for a pair of hiking boots. And Tim is going to say, “amazing growth” because I stretched out my comfort zone to select colors for boots and sox that I normally would ignore. But I really liked the way the Keen boots fit.
Win = went to Culver’s drive through to test that aspect of driving. Just a snack, fries & coke.
Win = took advantage of the last few days I have paid parking in garage; I was scared of the tight turn around the keypad; not so bad.
 
When things were really bad… I had an indicator of how bad. A phrase would slip out: “Driving fast and taking chances.” Suicide ideation was high. In contrast, Wednesday night… in my rented Escape, I remembered the phrase, but it meant something different. After cleaning the locker, there was calm with silence and peace. Driving a fast vehicle without the criticism, road rage, and backseat driving was a different kind of calm; exuberant joy, an absence of depression. The more I drove, the greater the self confidence.