Thursday, January 6, 2011

PTSD


So Rojo went to school Tuesday morning, and I decided to use that time to dig in the basement for old photos of him for a school project. Found the towering stack of photo albums, but nine out of ten of them were of Woohoo. Simply cannot find any photo albums of Rojo from grades 1-5. Missing.

Looked through the baby and toddler albums of him just briefly, randomly turning to pages and giving them a cursory glance. That's was all I could do. To really go back and really look and really be back in those years is simply not something I'm up for.

Hard to believe that looking at that darling boy in the picture above, doesn't fill me with joy, right? I know. Just look at him. Could he be any cuter? And any healthier looking? And look at him eating a variety of food and textures. But pictures can lie. That same darling, healthy, happy boy I just happened to get a photo of, that boy didn't live at our house very much. The boy that lived with us then was always in my arms, on my hip, being jiggled, being stuck with a pacifier, and eventually being brushed with surgical sponges and having his joints compressed every two hours to turn on his sensory system and help him to regulate.

I don't have a lot of those pictures. Too busy to go get a camera and take a shot of any of that.

Thought I'd done okay with finding enough pictures for what I needed, thought I'd done okay skimming the surface of the pain without diving into the deep end, thought I'd done okay reflecting on those years and realizing that we are not there anymore, that we have a very happy, joyful, delightful, what-he-is boy living with us right now.

But apparently my body had another idea. As the day wore on I got sicker and sicker. Stomach cramps that felt like labor and hit with a force every 15 minutes for 24 hours. Ended up going into the doctor afraid of what she might find. She didn't have a firm answer, ran some tests and we will await the results. Feeling better now, but there is a lingering sense of non-wellness.

I still don't know what happened to the missing photo albums, and part of me mourns their loss, if they're truly gone, and part of me is relieved never to have to look at them again.

15 comments:

Jan said...

Oh, Carrie, we hold so much of that pain in our guts, don't we? That it was like labor, too, is so telling.

Hugs to you, and hopes that you are processing it all, in some sort of a constructive way.

(And really, he does look like such a healthy, happy baby! He was in there too.)

xo

Anonymous said...

Oh Carrie.

(((Love.)))




xo

MO'N

Elizabeth said...

Wow. The mind -- the body -- be mindful, as I know you are -- of these things. Perhaps you are working them through and out.

Love to you -- may you be well, may you be happy.

Amber said...

No matter where we are now, after realizing we must work with reality, and doing "the work" to do so...Still, we have lived through what we lived through. We have lost what we have lost. Sometimes our bodies feel what our minds want to push away, as you well know.

Third chakra issues-- which I deal with, too-- has to do with how we feel about our 'care for others', and the stress and guilt around that.Resonsibilty. Sensitivity to criticism, and self-criticism.Trust...

You were, are, and have ALWAYS been a GOOD MOTHER. There is nothing you have not done well enough. Trust in your own goodness, Carrie. We all see it clear as day.

Stop hurting yourself.

Love.

:)

deb said...

This pierced me through , Carrie.

and your title is so fitting.

sending love. feel better okay

Wanda said...

Oh...he looks like STM!

Be well, my friend. No blame. No shame. Grief? Sure. Just be well.

Love.

kario said...

The past is TFBS, my friend. Please take a minute to send some warm, golden light to your gut and visualize the muscles relaxing and releasing as you feel the growth you've attained in these last 14 years. Your compassion and humor and love in the face of the difficulties is absolutely unmatched.

That boy in the picture is looking back at you with love and the boy he is today looks at you with love and admiration each and every day.

Jerri said...

(((((Carrie)))))

I am so sorry for your grief and pain, which ripples through this post.

Only love, my friend. Only love.

Lilith said...

It's hard. I was talking to someone today about Katie and telling them that I love my daughter but that she ground me down to the very core of my existence. It's just hard.

Kim said...

Sending you love, sweet friend.

Leslie said...

Carrie, what you went through then has made you into the uber-strong super mama you are today! Funny thing is, I don't think any of your "old" (college) friends knew what you were going through at the time......

Tanya @ TeenAutism said...

I can't look at the old pictures either. Thinking of you, my friend. Hope the non-wellness passes soon. xo

adiaryofamom said...

i know.

damn it i know.

i took thousands of pictures, and of course framed the handful in which she's looking right at the camera (on a fluke - take thousands of photos, you're gonna get em) or happily playing. and i often wonder who that kid in the pictures really was. cause yeah, she wasn't around here so often either.

but now. yeah, the now. grab that camera, lady. start shooting the now.

Deb Shucka said...

I hear you and surround your pain, create space for it, and fill that space with love.

courtneywrites said...

Love to you, Carrie.