tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9520508.post1371451101117214177..comments2024-02-03T01:51:20.266-07:00Comments on A Song Not Scored For Breathing: Not For The Weak Of HeartHopehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02045801745534184703noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9520508.post-91338260074085105842018-11-11T20:12:04.233-07:002018-11-11T20:12:04.233-07:00Cyn, your reply is validating and comforting. Than...Cyn, your reply is validating and comforting. Thank you.Hopehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02045801745534184703noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9520508.post-63912889730262655632018-11-11T00:16:38.524-07:002018-11-11T00:16:38.524-07:00I had someone say they were triggered the other da...I had someone say they were triggered the other day who didn’t have PTSD or a triggering trauma to trigger from. I wanted to scream. I wanted to explain in great detail a trigger response. Instead I nodded my head gravely and tsktsked a comforting sound. I’m not qualified to judge. But I do anyway. When I’ve seen the long term damage from trauma, such as you describe, it’s hard to be kind. But I was kind. I can’t be in someone else's skin. Hell, I am jumping out of my own regularly. <br /><br />I’m right there in the car, kicking the shit out of it. I’m right there listing the hundred things that want attention instead of trauma. I’m there hearing my husband be kind, too kind, involved, too involved, etc. I’m anticipating my therapist. I’m making plans. I’m coming unglued. I know me listing all this doesn’t stop your response. But I’m there too. Maybe you can conjure me in the chair next to you, joining in. Or you can throw darts at my imagined head. Maybe that’ll be of some use. <br /><br />Love. And strength. And patience. And all the things. Cyn Huddlestonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16698496590225633741noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9520508.post-64853260935126426142018-11-10T03:18:50.642-07:002018-11-10T03:18:50.642-07:00I love you. I love you. Erinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12979627849688965995noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9520508.post-17265850242337681082018-11-09T18:38:48.567-07:002018-11-09T18:38:48.567-07:00If only it were so easy to actually get out of bed...If only it were so easy to actually get out of bed, right? My doctor made a comment about me completing tasks and gauging them and I said, "I'd have to be doing tasks in the first place to do that."<br /><br />I would never have guessed my trauma ran so deep. I think there are all kinds of trauma that often don't surface on our radar; only the effects of them do.Hopehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02045801745534184703noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9520508.post-42488182545243701382018-11-09T10:27:03.425-07:002018-11-09T10:27:03.425-07:00I simply cannot imagine. I think a lot about how o...I simply cannot imagine. I think a lot about how our culture shames us for focusing on self-care, and so we shame ourselves. Nothing stopping us from getting out of bed in the morning, just get out of bed. And even though you didn't write it for me, and I've never experienced trauma at this level, it was important for me to read it today. <br /><br />I wonder if I really have a handle on trauma, actually.Chuck Sigarshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15102212130042387466noreply@blogger.com