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Tuning into myself
Apr. 3rd, 2022 11:16 am Here in Sydney, some in-person activities have started to resume after two years. E.g. there used to be a monthly meeting in person for the Buddhist community I am a part of that went away during the throes of the pandemic.Since last month, the meeting has resumed.
Before lockdown 2.0, I used to go for group physiotherapy classes to start to rebuild my strength gradually. In June 2021, that stopped again with COVID spiking in Australia due to lack of vaccination and their laidback vaccination strategy and roll-out. Eventually when the physio classes resumed for vaccinated folks, you still needed to wear a mask while exercising. It makes total sense from a pandemic perspective, but not for my huffing and puffing lungs. I stopped seeing that physiotherapist too due to misdiagnoses and poor care that was not trauma-informed.
Over the last 3 weeks, I went to a local physio that offered classes too, did an assessment and went for two classes on Saturdays. After the first class, I felt so wiped out I could not even shower that day. I had extreme post-exertional malaise after the class, exacerbated my inability to think clearly, eat and drink. Yesterday, after the second class, I made it a point to eat straight after and went out so I wasn't going to go in a state of shutdown. The plan was to have an early night and rock up to the Buddhist meeting on Sunday morning, leaving home at 9 am.
I found myself "immobilised" on the couch. I could not even get up to drink water. At about 1 am, I realised that my body was telling me VERY LOUDLY that I did not want to go to the Buddhist meeting. After this, it took me nearly a couple of hours to finally regulate myself and go to sleep. As I leaned in and reflected on my evening, I realised that I knew from the beginning that I wanted to rest and stay home and yet I had an inner "violence" going on where a part of me was not even willing to consider that perhaps I won't go to the meeting to allow myself space. It was as though, going there was a given, and I was forcing myself to adapt around it.
Interesting how the complex trauma plays out in everything. The situation is reminiscent of my early and young life where I was ferried around, shipped off to relatives without being cared for, and later when I was older - whether I had the desire to go or not. My life was defined around my mother's needs, not the other way around.
And now when I go to a cafe in Sydney and see parents being kind, gentle and considerate of their children, it is one part healing and another part heart-breaking. My heart is broken for the little me that went through so much abuse and neglect. That little me, that will never know who she would have been with healthy parenting. Sure, I can reparent myself, be my own loving parent and so on, but the deep grief I feel is very much there for me to hold my little self through.
Much love little one <3
Before lockdown 2.0, I used to go for group physiotherapy classes to start to rebuild my strength gradually. In June 2021, that stopped again with COVID spiking in Australia due to lack of vaccination and their laidback vaccination strategy and roll-out. Eventually when the physio classes resumed for vaccinated folks, you still needed to wear a mask while exercising. It makes total sense from a pandemic perspective, but not for my huffing and puffing lungs. I stopped seeing that physiotherapist too due to misdiagnoses and poor care that was not trauma-informed.
Over the last 3 weeks, I went to a local physio that offered classes too, did an assessment and went for two classes on Saturdays. After the first class, I felt so wiped out I could not even shower that day. I had extreme post-exertional malaise after the class, exacerbated my inability to think clearly, eat and drink. Yesterday, after the second class, I made it a point to eat straight after and went out so I wasn't going to go in a state of shutdown. The plan was to have an early night and rock up to the Buddhist meeting on Sunday morning, leaving home at 9 am.
I found myself "immobilised" on the couch. I could not even get up to drink water. At about 1 am, I realised that my body was telling me VERY LOUDLY that I did not want to go to the Buddhist meeting. After this, it took me nearly a couple of hours to finally regulate myself and go to sleep. As I leaned in and reflected on my evening, I realised that I knew from the beginning that I wanted to rest and stay home and yet I had an inner "violence" going on where a part of me was not even willing to consider that perhaps I won't go to the meeting to allow myself space. It was as though, going there was a given, and I was forcing myself to adapt around it.
Interesting how the complex trauma plays out in everything. The situation is reminiscent of my early and young life where I was ferried around, shipped off to relatives without being cared for, and later when I was older - whether I had the desire to go or not. My life was defined around my mother's needs, not the other way around.
And now when I go to a cafe in Sydney and see parents being kind, gentle and considerate of their children, it is one part healing and another part heart-breaking. My heart is broken for the little me that went through so much abuse and neglect. That little me, that will never know who she would have been with healthy parenting. Sure, I can reparent myself, be my own loving parent and so on, but the deep grief I feel is very much there for me to hold my little self through.
Much love little one <3
