I only heard “grounding” being used for people with personality disorders, but I think it might help me or others too with similar problems to mine:
You see, due to the *big bad* I tend to dissociate sometimes all day. I’m really feel detached, not here at all and this next idea came to my mind because for a long time ever I finally felt present for a moment thanks to a grounding tool.
I’m going to use grounding methods to get myself back to reality! Or I’m going to organize days full of stimulating activities, so that might help. I really had enough. It affects my days a lot.
Any grounding things you could recommend me? I’ll make a full post about the list later, so others may use the tips too :)
If you don’t feel comfortable sharing it publicly, DM me for tips please!
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All your pain all your flaws I see them, I cherish them, I will help you carry that burden, my dearest one you are not alone. I love you so much more than you know.
Sometimes I feel... IDK out of place, I guess, WRT younger parts. A lot of folks have cute younger parts that like Sanrio blogs and stuffies etc. Only one of my younger parts is childlike, really, Aslan. I know of two others. Anne is very polite and prim and proper like I was supposed to be when I was young. She thinks she's very adult. The other is just very scared. They hide between the mattress and the wall like I used to and try not to breathe or make any noise. That's all I know about that one.
I have no concept of time passing right now. When am I awake? When am I sleeping? Someone bright and relentlessly cheerful entertains our husband while he's home and awake. Work stress has him wound tight this week and that knowledge pulls a fawning part to the surface, quick to anticipate his needs and meet them with a chipper laugh to keep the mood light. (It looks like they were here answering a few asks today, possibly.)
I am trying to keep my own needs in mind and tend to them but it is so damn hard. I wonder if it's the shadow of my father looming over my life again. That suffocating anxiety telling me to play my role correctly and keep everything running smoothly, because if I mess up, or even if I don't, all the stress of "the working man" will come crashing down on me. That anxiety masks my needs, squishes them down so that I struggle to even recognize them.
Meanwhile, growing in the back of my mind, some desperate hunger for reassurance and affection keeps clawing its way to the surface. "Tell me I'm doing the right thing," it begs, "Tell me I won't get in trouble, tell me I'm good, tell me you still want me."
The vulnerability makes me sick, even as I try to accommodate that need too.
implications of trauma, death, murder, gun violence, mental illness / rehabilitation, general violence.
𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 ;; dated october 23rd, 2013. written in a moleskin journal.
the birds chirping
a broken wind chime
daisies in the windowsill
lysander and his boyfriend
elektra and her guitar
juno, alone
the setting sun
𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 ;; dated september 29th, 2015. written on yellow notepad paper, lost behind the vanity.
mother, father, lysander, juno, orion, valora, and whoever else it may concern -
this is not goodbye, and it is not forever. explicitly, i am leaving home for an undetermined amount of time. i have respectfully decided to follow elektra in her pursuits - they are of passion, and of yearning, and i have felt this way for quite some time now. this is not a life of fulfillment, at least not one for me. i wish to experience more. i want to know more. i want to feel cultured beyond the texts of ancient greek and latin. i want to feel what elektra feels, and if she goes, i will be void of it. i have to go, but it is not forever. this is not goodbye. to lysander, i send my best regards. he will say yes. juno, i’m sorry. i am forever sorry. orion, valora - i will think of you both, everyday, and the people you become. mother, father - our intelligence is not yet aligned, but one day it will be. you will be proud, as you always are. you are admirable, and so will i. water the garden, take care of the stable, stay out of the woods.
evermore,
𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒂
𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒂 ;; dated may 6th, 2019. written on a napkin, and burnt with a lighter.
i have potentially done something terrible, today. we’re leaving in the morning, and i doubt we’ll ever return. some laws are stupid. i did not hurt anyone. i will never hurt anyone. i simply gave a warning shot.
𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒍 ;; dated may 30th, 2019. written on stationery, adorned with mushrooms. sent to the carmichael residence at woodside, california.
florence broke down in connecticut today. the sign says lovell. the streets are busy, in that small town way. it’s a small town - mostly college students. we are fine, please do not send money. it is always burned. i believe i may enroll at the university here, radcliffe. there is a floral shop that always smells sweet, and the boy behind the register always smiles at me. there are rumors of ghosts and misfortune that haunt radcliffe - but do not fret, i will not open unearthed boxes. i have learnt my lesson. i’m careful, now. more careful than i had been before. i’m smarter, too. i suppose i have you to thank for that. so, thank you. i am running out of space to write. with best wishes, philo
𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒌𝒆 ;; dated july 12th, 2010. written on construction paper, later torn and folded to make paper stars for a fancy paper stars jar.
i don’t like the police, they ask very many questions. they came to our house and asked us about our hike today. juno’s and i’s, to be very specific. it was only the two of us. but we are very smart. they asked what we saw. i saw many birds. blackbirds and bluebirds and a cardinal, too - those are red. sparrows and wrens. finches. i saw poison oak, but because i am very smart i did not touch the poison oak. i saw wildflowers. i saw a red scarf, and it was very odd. we went down a different path than usual, but there are no scarves in the woods besides on this path. it was a very dirty scarf, but my eyes are very good and i can see color very well. juno didn’t like the scarf, though. she hated the scarf. she liked it at first, but then she hated it after she touched it. the fabric must not be very nice. i don’t blame the scarf, however, for how it was made. it is just a scarf. but she screamed and screamed and screamed and the park ranger was called. he’s very nice, the park ranger. he called mom and dad. juno couldn’t, but i don’t know why. we’re home now, and the cops are gone, but juno has been very quiet. i hope she is okay. it was just a scarf. i hope we go on another hike soon. i miss the trees. they have things to tell me.
𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ;; dated november 5th, 2019. written in a tiny notebook with crayon.
brown sugar
almond milk
cat litter
bleach
bedazzling kit
eggs, brown
oranges
strawberries
blackberries
earl grey tea
hair ties
get well soon card
bandaids
𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ;; dated april 17th, 2018. written on the window in dry erase.
dive for scraps at junkyard
weld
fast food breakfast
hang upside down to test blood flow
fish
fast food lunch
library
class :o(
meet elektra at bridge
diner dinner
moonlit walk across town
stargaze
𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒔 ;; dated april 28th, 2020. written in a notebook, later discarded.
leopold is a good person.
leopold kristoff fowler is a good person.
leopold fowler is a good person.
leo fowler is a good person. i can testify this, because he is kind to me because i see him everyday, and he does not have a history of unwarranted violence. i believe that what you saw on that day was a fluke, a lapse in judgement power thought (come back to this)
leo fowler is of noble character. i know this for fact. it is not disputable. i would trust my life in his hands. i do trust my life in his hands. trust holds more value above all else. my life has been in his hands before, matter of fact.
i believe leo fowler saved my life, in fact (repetitive), after a very terrible accident in which i fell from several heights. it was one of the scariest things i have ever experienced. he was there as it happened, and took immediate action to insure i was properly taken care of. i fear that if it hadn’t been for him, i would be under very different circumstances.
(handwriting becomes illegible, as if the rest had been scribbled away)
𝒕𝒐 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒐 ;; dated feburary 1st, 2017. written on floral stationary and sent in an envelope (lost in the mail and never delivered).
to juno, my dearly estranged sister,
it’s been some years now since we’ve last spoke, and i hope you are well. truly well. elektra and i are fine, as we always are. we are surviving, and i hope you are too. you’re one of the bravest people i know, maybe even more so than elektra (do not tell her that i said this, please) and i know i have hurt you in more ways than can be said, or imagined. i will not excuse my selfishness, but i urge you to see from my perspective. i am not dumb, nor have i ever. i have ears and eyes and very keen senses. i knew you were being sent away, and so did elektra. come to think of it, you are the only one who was left unaware. i can’t tell you if it was selfish, or if it was in their best interest for you. i’m afraid i’m biased, and i still cannot yet see from your perspective. clearly, at least. i wish i can, someday, and i wish to hear from you soon. i’m sorry that we left as we did. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you my plans. i’m sorry for abandoning you. i know we both don’t care for empty homes, that’s why i left when i did. i thought you’d be gone, longer, too. sometimes i have very poor judgment and i’m not ashamed to admit it. i am, however, ashamed to admit that i have misjudged you. you’re far more complex than i knew of, and i can only blame the ignorance of youth. it’s only been two years, but i’m far wiser now. please believe me. i wouldn’t leave you now, if i were the age i am now than i was then. one day when the cycle repeats, i hope i remember to do better by you. congratulations on your acceptance to columbia.
evermore,
𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒂
𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 ;; dated may 12th, 2020. written in a moleskin journal.
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