Sunday, May 10, 2020

THIS IS WHAT PTSD FEELS LIKE

It is Saturday in early May and when Leah wakes up and looks out the window the snow has returned and with it that frozen feeling that she is terrified of. 
Eight years ago Leah fell so deeply into depression that today if she has any sad thoughts she is scared. No, it's much much worse than scared. It's a terror that threatens to consume her.

This is why she needs so desperately to keep writing this book.


She needs to look depression in the eye and stay calm. She needs to be able to feel sadness in the presence of love. She needs more than anything to feel love, for herself and her family and friends.

Mary would say just imagine healing violet flames – let the divine energy of those flames consume every bit of negativity.

That last chapter steered Leah into dark thoughts. Who wants to write a book that is sad? And yet somehow she had to say what happened to her great grandmother. But writing that chapter led her here, feeling scared and baring her soul about what happened eight years ago. 

Mary would remind her that this book is a joyful remembrance. She wants to recall all the love in her family. The love that lives on forever.

She never ever has to be disconnected to that love.

Leah sits in meditation and concentrates on feeling love. When she falters, and feels fear again, she opens her journal at random. 

February 16, 2020


"Just keep opening your heart start over in every moment and feel love for everyone including yourself and your husband and your sisters and brother and your children and grandchildren. Feel the power of God inside your body flooding your arms and legs and back and head. Start what Mary calls a radical practice feel all of your feelings, feel sadness, anger, joy, terror but most of all just keep opening your heart and feeling LOVE."

After she meditates she opens the door and steps outside in her bathrobe. The cold pinches. The wind whips. The frigid air and the snow bend the fragile daffodils and tulips and threaten the white puffy pear blossoms.

But warm weather is going to come back. And so is her writing. She is determined to keep writing. She goes to her computer and begins to write in Italian. She addresses her ancestors.

"Please help me write a book about love and life and miracles and joy and the infinitely powerful force of the universe." She is crying so hard that she can hardly see the translation:

"Per favore, aiutami a scrivere un libro sull’amore nella vita nei miracoli e nella gioia nella forza infinitamente potente dell’universo.”

"Please help me write a book that is joyful and healing."

"Per favore, aiutami a scrivere un libro che sia gioioso e salutare."

"Please help me feel this sadness without being scared."

"Per favore, aiutami a provare la tristezza senza essere spaventato."

She says the Italian over and over again. She feels warmer inside. She feels warmth flow into her fingers. When she looks up a fat little robin is outside the window bouncing across the bright green lawn. The snow is gone from the lawn. The sun is shining.

"Dear Mom and Dad and all my ancestors and the angels and archangels and God in heaven: I beg you to let me be directly connected to the small miracles that are right here in front of me."

"Cara mamma e papĂ  e tutti i miei antenati e gli angeli e gli arcangeli e Dio in cielo ti prego di lasciarmi essere direttamente collegato ai piccoli miracoli che sono proprio qui davanti a me."

"Please let me accept all my feelings in the presence of love."

"Per favore, lasciatemi tranne tutti i miei sentimenti in presenza di amore."

"Let me feel my body."

"Fammi sentire il mio corpo."

Leah gets up from the computer and goes into the living room. She lays down on the sofa and sets her mini-boom box directly on her chest. Then she plays music with lots of low vibrations. The music goes directly into her soul. Her whole body vibrates.

She breathes. She pictures herself breathing in love. She lets it melt her frozen place like a warm puddle in her chest.


She gets up and tells her husband she is having the PTSD again. She is afraid she is going back into the depression.

He takes her gently by the shoulders and holds her and smiles and says in a very gentle voice: "You're not going back into the depression honey. You're not."

After resting in his arms, she knows it's time. She's got to get out of her head and into her body. It's time for yoga.







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