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    Should I Trust My Thoughts? #Selfblame #Selftalk #insecurity

    I just shared how a former colleague proofread my professional resume. My inability to see my talents makes resume writing a challenge.

    To my surprise, the returned edited resume was so overwhelming! My former co-worker, who has worked alongside of me during my good days and bad days, described my talents in such a positive way, sadly, I fail to see this version of myself.😞

    Based on this recent experience, I must now ask myself, should I trust my assessment of myself?

    Sadly, my self talk is negative. My self confidence lens is severely scratched from years of physical, emotional, and verbal abuse. #CPTSD dictates my thoughts, well into my adulthood. And most of all, those thoughts do NOT reflect the words my professional former co-worker described.😁

    Realize this, our friends and colleagues might not see the negatives our minds convince us are paramount aspects of ourselves.❤️

    #TheMighty #Bekind to #yourself

    8 reactions 4 comments
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    In the middle

    I feel so stuck in these questions from the image --
    "Tell me, father,
    which to ask forgiveness for:
    what I am, or what I'm not?
    Tell me, mother,
    which should I regret:
    what I became or what I didn't?"

    I have written on here before about feeling the heavy weight of potential that I haven't lived up to. I feel like I should have been able to overcome the trauma and mental health challenges. I feel ashamed of where I am at in life, so I am deliberately isolating from friends and family so I don't have to answer their questions. My therapist reminds me of all the ways I am succeeding in life, but I just can't accept it.

    I feel like I need to ask forgiveness from someone for where my life is at, but there is no one to direct that request to. Sometimes, I feel like I need to stand on top of a mountain with a bullhorn and shout, "I'm sorry! I'm just sorry!" to the world. I have no other words.

    #Potential #goals #Forgiveness #Selftalk #Relationships #Faith #MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #Trauma #CheckInWithMe

    15 reactions 4 comments

    Am I crazy?

    What does it mean when you have conversations with yourself. But then think they are actually conversations you have really had….
    I get really confused if I had had those conversations or not… makes me feel a bit crazy. #TheoryOfMind #confused #Selftalk

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    Sharing page: Chapter: Shame and Its Accomplices

    Hi Mighties,
    I'd like to share one more page from the chapter: Shame and Its Accomplices by author (psychiatrist) Paul Conti in his book called 'Trauma The Invisible Epidemic How Trauma Works and How We Can Heal From It'

    Referring to page attached:

    Identifying how to manage self talk and improving self care and image.

    ....'Write down 3 healthy meals a day, a reliable car or not being scared at home. Writing this out can help you discover whatever basics you might be lacking and give you some ideas about what you can do to help yourself.'

    Ask yourself: what are 3 basic needs you wish to improve or manage in your life?

    #Selfcare #Selftalk #MentalHealth #selfImprovement #CheckInWithMe

    13 reactions 3 comments
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    The Autumn Of My Years

    Frank Sinatra famously sang in “It Was A Very Good Year”—a survey of his life of sorts—observing that it was a very good year when he was 17, and again at 21, and 35. Later the days grow short and he finds himself in the autumn of his years. Frank doesn’t share with us what age he is, but it’s 2022 and I’m 42, and I feel that I have reached the autumn of my life.

    I am rooted in my bed. I can stretch my limbs as far as downstairs maybe once, twice, a day. I manage to water myself about twice a week, but even then, my trunk groans and creeks with the effort. Most things that I enjoyed when I it was in the summer of my life, have lost their lustre. And like the autumn tree, I have begun to shed my hair.

    My branches held onto my leaves as long as possible. For that I cannot fault them. The rings of decay from the physical—and emotional—stress that were forming unseen inside me just become too many, and without my awareness. I saw countless doctors, all of whom failed to identify the rot that had set in, declaring me a mystery with my inverse T-waves, shaking limbs, falling leaves, and general failure to thrive. Finally, after two emergency room visits, a hospital stay (2 out of 5 stars, do not recommend), I finally saw an endocrinologist after a two month wait. He was confident that I had most likely gone from a state of hypothyroidism to hyperthyroidism without knowing it, for at least a year. With all the stress this imbalance of hormones placed upon my body, my hair started to break and then fall out.

    So now I am in the literal autumn of my years.

    The forecast is hopeful in that with the right treatment, most of my hair will grow back. And, after having weathered an unrelenting storm for the better part of the past year, my body just wants to hibernate. I am grateful that we are approaching winter, which makes sleeping all day feel like less of an indulgence. But I think about my hair loss and how for the past two months I have been lost for the right words to talk about it… particularly in the absence of a diagnosis.

    There are things I can tell you though.

    I can tell you that even though I couldn’t walk, developed alarming peripheral neuropathy, and needed a wheelchair, the thought of losing my hair scared me more. Despite developing what the doctors repeatedly referred to as “concerning” cardiac symptoms, my concern remained with the loss of my hair and with each parting strand, a part of my identity felt at risk. I can tell you that after being admitted to hospital for observation, I became even more afraid when my body hair started to fall out. Making each trip to the bathroom into a turbulent storm of anxiety, grief, and depression, as my body continued to shed more leaves.

    This being a major outward sign of my condition, every day of increased hair loss made me feel like I was ever closer to being visited by the famed hooded logger, and thrust into the great wood chipper. And no Friends like Pheobe, Monica, and Joey to save me.

    As I fixated on my hair loss, I learned many things.

    I learned that there are all sorts of potions that you can buy, that promise to help regrow hair. There are wigs… so many wigs. But the choice really only comes down to two questions. “Can I pull off this radical new look?” Or, “if I cut this wig in a certain way, will it make me look like I did before?” Thyroid related hair loss apparently means any hair that does grow back, might not be the same colour as before. So that’s kind of like a present to look forward to, only it’s unlikely to arrive by Christmas. A full head of medium length hair apparently takes two, maybe three years to regrow. In that respect at least, I feel like I will be like a sapling again, with literal tufts of juvenile hair sprouting between what remains of my established leaves and locks.

    I can tell you that in addition to the emotional pain, hair loss hurts, quite literally. It hurts to pull on it, and my hair band falls out often—I just don’t have enough to bunch together anymore. So I’ve invested in cancer hats. Only I don’t have cancer, so I also feel like an invading alien species. And of course derogatory as the term is, it is accepted that cancer patients are “brave”. The only thing worse than this enforced bravery is that there is no accepted lexicon, or field guide for what I am.

    But I can tell you how I feel.

    I feel like the lonely tree in a forest that doesn’t look like, or feel like, I belong with the others. I’m not quite sick enough to be offered any support to help prop me up, even though every day is a struggle just to hold myself upright. Being my kind of sick is to be that lonely tree in a field that people are happy to shelter under in a storm, but quick enough to cut down at the first sign of disease.

    And I do not know when it will be spring again.

    But I hope that when that day finally arrives I will rush out into the wilderness and hug every tree I see. Even more so in winter—for I will know what it is like to be bare, and suffer from a lack of kindness or care.

    #HairLoss #Hypothyroidism #Hyperthyroidism #GravesDisease #Grief #Loss #Depression #Loneliness #ChronicIllness #Alopecia #MyCondition #Anxiety #Stress #MentalHealth #MightyTogether #SpoonieProblems #Selftalk #Selfimage #Selfesteem #PeripheralNeuropathy #Neuropathy #WritingThroughIt #Disability #Homebound #ChronicFatigueSyndrome #Spoonie #Hope

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    Dear me, I'm sorry

    (Writter is not me, but it could very well be)

    Dear me, I'm sorry I didn't love you like you deserved to be loved, and still don't. I'm sorry I give too much of yourself to others and leave nothing for yourself, until one day there may be nothing left to give.

    How is it possible that someone so wounded by others can still care so much for others. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. How much shame do I carry by now? So many kinds of shame...

    Dear me, I'm sorry.

    #Selftalk #Selfcare #ChildhoodAbuse #ChildhoodTraumaSurvivors #Depression #Selfhate

    1 comment
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    What causes negative self talk?

    How our #Parents made us feel is how we #Selftalk to ourselves in our own head. We need to learn #Selflove #Selfcare #Selfcare and not listen to the voices we've been programmed with by people who didn't know better. ❤


    Clean Sheets

    It’s a small victory and I guess I’m gonna pat myself on the back as I’m lounging in my bed. Did all my laundry. Put it all away. Took a shower. #Selftalk #SOBER #FunctioningDepression #Anxiety

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    How do you tame your inner critic?

    Does anyone else have a brain that can sometimes be downright abusive? Like a persistent negative inner monologue that constantly tells you how broken or stupid or useless you are? Because if I'm completely honest, I do. And this week that brain got the best of me. I was in a shame storm fueled by insecurity and a fear that no matter what I do I'll never be good enough. And it's exhausting.

    After discussing it with my therapist I recognized that part of the problem is that we live in a culture where the very thing that we need to do to run a business or promote ourselves is the thing that's directly influencing the degree to which we feel like we are never going to succeed...and that is social media.

    I'm ashamed of how much time I spend on social media, but without it, people don't notice my business or my writing. Without it I can't increase my followers which I need if I ever want to publish that book I've been working on. It's a constant exhausting hustle.

    So my fellow PTSD community members, if you have a cacophonous inner dialogue, what tricks do you use to tame it and talk more kindly to yourself? I'm looking to YOU for support and maybe we can help one another be less self destructive.

    #Trauma #Selftalk #PTSD #CPTSD #Innercritic