So yes. Well, THAT was fun.
Now with Zoloft.
Week 3 begins today, now up to a full dose and I find myself praying more often than I would care to admit. Two nights ago was complete hell. But then, the sun rose, I got up, made breakfast and was normal in spite of it. So maybe this is also about realizing the fact that even the most horrible moments of this pass.
They may pass after hours and hours of counting backwards, and tapping, and reiki and bilateral whathaveyou... but they pass.
the time passes.
the sensations pass.
the memory passes into a slightly less vivid version of itself, slightly muted, more like the remnant of a bad dream.
So. this, apparently is about letting go as much as anything.
On a more positive note, I have been painting up a storm. Or a storm has been painting its way out of me. However. I am loving it.
And today I hung two big pieces up in my living room.
It is good to know that beneath all of this, this chaos and discomfort, the acute shit, that I am not only still here but Really here.
Loudly wanting to express beyond this experience.