brightlotusmoon: (Asha)
So, my thoughts have been spinning merrily amidst what could be a spiraling episode of... Oh, fuck, probably everything at once. After I had a chat with three doctors about the consequences of stress-related memory loss, I quietly decided to start a private mindfulness therapy, which I have only been sharing with the psychologist, for advice, while I move forward in my own brain to stop my own brain from destroying my mindstate.

Tomorrow, I see my general physician and have her write a referral for the local hyperbaric oxygen therapy center. Although it's a bit premature, as they have yet to call me back about an initial consultation. While I was filling out their online New Patient form, I started wondering if they would even take someone like me, with two dozen illness. Even though cerebral palsy is the cornerstone. I just feel so excited about it. That's a good thing. I can still most of my emotion things.

What I find beautiful and fascinating about my private therapy protocol is that almost nobody believes me. I have been stuck in something insane since 2010. Why would they believe I would "get better" now, so many years later after therapy and medications and meditative exercises? Then again, none of them have been in long term therapy or medication. It really does take many years to spur a change this massive. Hence the secret protocol, which includes a possible medication update and potential oxygen therapy.

I don't expect anyone to believe me. I don't expect anyone to believe in my desire to change with this therapy protocol. How could they? Why would they? I am the same as I was when symptoms started. But I don't want their belief. I don't really want support if there is no actual active knowledge. How can you say "Hey, I've been there, I get it, fist bump in solidarity" unless you really have gone through a similar structure of treatment repeatedly for a grab bag of illnesses that mindfuck you for no reason?
Actual legitimate question, BTW.
If you're also a parent of someone with interconnected psychiatric and neurological disorders, I would love input, because when I try to explain these things to my mom who only has hereditary ADHD controlled via lifestyle, my emotion-brain starts shutting down so my technical-brain can word at her, and I know she wants less science and more human. I'm trying. I just cannot get past that very protective mental guardian who shields emotion-Joanna from Outside. And oh, as much as I love Serena, she feels it is easier and gentler to let me sleep while she and Koan the calico kitten organize and compartmentalize all the Me. Ananta works hard enough balancing out all the neuroweird that Alicia in my private epileptic Wonderland can't reach. I haven't had much success in psychically merging with Asha. We are working out my dissociative and depersonalization episodes first.

I will do this. It will happen. Steps have been severely taken. Hard to talk. But if you think you get it, I would love a discussion via Private Message. I am willing to reveal bits and pieces of my Rebuild Joanna Brain Project to acquire tips and advice from those who get it.

Now, see, I view many people as family beyond my blood family - who shall remain the besy family I would want. Various people in my social circle - friends plus family - have always stood with me. I will always need and want that. But for those who are truly normal and looking at me with confusion, puzzlement, exasperation, fear, anger... and the type of condesencing that means pats on the head, chuckling, and "I love you sweetie. Of course you'll change." "You do nothing. You never help. You are too self absorbed, you don't think, you claim memory loss. It is all right, dear. We are used to hit. Just finish writing." Followed by another hair tousle. I'm used to it. It's routine because I am me.
I am not out to prove them wrong, not entirely. I am out to prove to myself that my neuroplasticity really might eradicate the worst of the annoying symptoms.
Maybe this whole autistic ramble came from my hope and excitement over this slow gentle therapeutic process. If loved ones want me to speed it up, I can turn away for a while to meditate.

All I know is that my own husband has been putting up with me forever, and that says something huge.

Love you, LJ family.


May. 3rd, 2007 08:52 am
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
When I told Adam how badly my lower back has been hurting, he helped me stretch it out, and then he picked me up and cracked my back -- something that has not been done in ages. I bonelessly slid to the floor, ecstatically drugged with the thrill of my spine finally unfolding and realigning. Adam is an amazing back-cracker. His methods make me unable to speak, think, or move for a good several minutes.
Afterwards, Adam remarked that I was taller. I told him to prove it and handed him the measuring tape. Sure enough, I was back at my full height -- 4'11". I really am four feet eleven inches. Oh, and a quarter. The time I was measured at the doctor's was probably when I had not stretched out my spine enough. Which means that the more yoga and Pilates I do, the more my spine will keep its flexibility, which means I will stay 4'11" and 1/4. This pleases me. This pleases me very, very much.

Adam is also amused/impressed by me wearing actual makeup. When he first met me, I would not even wear lip gloss, and he would listen to my mother beg to apply makeup on me, and pull me into the bathroom to do so (she used to be a fashion illustrator/designer and part-time makeup artist). I would always gasp in amazement as my face completely transformed into art, Mom would say how truly beautiful I really was, Adam would be impressed, and then at the end of the day I would wash it all off.
In the shower last night, I lifted my face to Adam and asked if all the eye makeup had been washed off. His response was, "Wow, you're wearing eye makeup!" and I said, "Yes! Mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow, even."

Later, after the sex, when I said the room was hot, Adam taught me how to draw power from the earth, the sun, and the moon, to help regulate my own energy, including body temperature. Adam hardly ever announces when he's using magic, he just does it. No offerings to spirits or gods, no praying, no anything. It's just a part of him, it's what he does. He told me his theory about every person being his/her own universe, with his/her own reality, being his/her own god, divinity from within. I tried to counter that logic, until he pointed out that even if several people were observing the exact same thing, it was at different angles, different perceptions, through different eyes and different minds, each person seeing something different in the same thing. Each person existing in an individual universe, all human universes interacting, sometimes trying to control another, all trying to work together -- but ultimately individual and alone within themselves; no one can truly know what anyone else is completely thinking, seeing, knowing, or experiencing, he said, we can only perceive and try to comprehend.
A rather fascinating theory. And at the time it made sense, even though now I could not explain it fully if I tried.

More yoga and Pilates tonight.


brightlotusmoon: (Default)

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