Haircuts & haggling

Here I sit, in pyjama shorts and wooly socks as the rain pours down outside. Man I need a heater. It’s suddenly flippin flipped into winter.

I woke in a hustle and bustle of anxiety, which has kind of continued throughout the day. It was because I had a doctors appointment this morning and I was going on my own. I couldn’t do it. But I did. I sobbed in the side streets en route to the place but MADE IT. And sat there and was relieved I’d gone, even though it brought up a bucket of trauma with it. Next time I m so bringing a friend again. I think I thought I was on it this time – I was me and that was enough. But scrap that. I now refuse to go it alone. And that feels strangely good to admit actually.

The rest of the day was pretty choker block.

I tried to skive out of going to see the allotment I am going to be starting work on this week, mumbling some fib of period pains but it didn’t work – turns out the guy I’m working for lived down the road from the allotment, and it just so happened I was down the road from his house. So together we went to check it out.

It’s so cool. I’m really excited about this project. He is a Doctor of Herbalist medicine – using medicinal herbs to heal. And this nugget of allotment paradise will, provided I get the plan right and the place into shape, supply the dispensary with most, if not ALL, of the herbs next year. It’s so exciting. It’s a complete mess and will take a tonne of work. I’m also generally just winging it, so I will post pics of it as I begin to start work on it and begin to blog as the transformation, and my learning, happens. Here’s a little bed of goodness – the only bed with herbs I’m holding onto.

I had a haircut – this never happens. And if it does, it usually involves me (and perhaps a friend) in my kitchen hanging over the sink, balancing with a pocket sized mirror and a pair of scissors, snapping at what I can find. This time it was a treat.

But I still wish I’d gone to that home-salon I normally go to…. my kitchen.

Post-haircut, a spot of charity shop dawdling enabled me to discover this treasure: 

Isn’t it great? I am really excited to find a spot to wear this puppy. I have just recently begun loving getting my knees out in dresses. My knees always find their way out, but always beneath shorts. Normally. Now I seemed to have turned a dress wearing leaf, and I am loving it.

Leaning at the check out, I spotted this beauty. I don’t think he was even for sale but the lady saw I’d fallen in love, and so sold it for £3. Score.

For all you PTSD readers out there, and others too, sometimes I feel so stuck back in time – do you ever feel that? I know this evening it is anxiety talking but at times I just feel so in the past and my thoughts ladened with memories from one of the events or one of the things. At the moment I have been feeling the overdose so close to me. I just keep on having memories come back to me and chip in, like it was yesterday. This has been happening since it happened, but I think now things are settling with these new meds, I am not feeling as physically or emotionally knocked or rocked sideways, backwards, forwards and upside down by the memories that float in. It’s almost like my body is waiting for that hit, but it never quite comes. This is such a relief, I cannot even explain. It is not like I am numb – the motion and the fluttering movement is still there in my body and my mind but it is just not ANYTHING like it was. And so my tendency, naturally is to delve into the memory – write it, draw it, paint it, and simply be with it. But that’s the tricky thing – that is my problem. I am just so keen to work this stuff through and work things out so they haunt no more, but my body just isn’t ready. I have been told by many people to take a step back from the trauma – to wait a while as I re-trigger and retraumatise like nobody’s business.

Leave it be for a while and let it settle its natural course. Let yourself be for a while and let yourself begin to take a natural life course. Then begin tucking into it, slowly. You need a rest. You need to pace yourself. You need to feel at ease and calm and relaxed and able.

So what am I to do? With these memories that feel right there – on the tip of my tongue and are swallowed in the memory box in my mind. The past few days I have played with just putting my hand on my heart and really feeling the sensations and the memory. And then after a few minutes or simply just a few seconds, I let it go. I move onto something new. I say hello, listen to what it has to say, and then gently edge it away to a place of safety. A place for later.

Hope you’ve had a good day.

Love.

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