Women

Women are wondrous creatures, they seem to have figured out the way to deal with there feeling that men never have. Even so august a woman as Margaret Thatcher is said to have needed a good cry then got on with the business of sending men to war. Women will cry when their happy, women will cry when their sad or frustrated and worst of all, women will cry when they are angry. Unlike men they don’t hold their feeling in for long and once it reach’s that teary stage be prepared for anything. I’m not making light of this ability, it’s one that I respect in it’s effect on the male population. Men have no natural defense against it and usually fail to understand it complexity but we all understand it’s effectiveness. Men through training or because of our nature tend to hold things in and hold grudges until death, our death.

I needed to get in touch with my more feminine side when I had my stroke. I needed to mourn what I had lost. I felt so alone in the hospital so completely vulnerable and broken that I had only instinct to lead me. I had to keep trying to put one foot in front of another, keep trying to move my arm so that I would have a chance at a life again. No matter how much I wanted there was no room for the sorrow I felt for me. Somehow I needed to make that time and space for me to greave. One day in speech therapy I was so frustrated by the lesson that I broke down and cry my eyes out, after I felt so relieved. My therapist let me have the time I needed and then came back to my room with me and made sure I was all right. She even changed the sheets on my bed and wished me a good evening. A small comfort but a comfort none the less.

Then during my long convalesce I started feeling so down and out, feeling of worthlessness washed over me in wave after wave. I felt like a rudderless ship bobbing in the sea. There were movies that got to me, manipulated me so ruthlessly that I couldn’t hold back my emotions. I spoke to one doctor about it and my feelings because after all the hard work I was doing I didn’t feel like I was making the progress that I wanted. I needed to feel like I was living a productive life again or at least the hope that I ever would. I was trying to walk around my neighborhood to build up my strength and to build coordination. But my anxiety and the dogs soon put a stop to that permanently so of course the answer was anti-anxiety medications. But my body and mind were on different pages, nothing I could do was working and that separation was hindering my recovery.

A couple of years into my recovery I was sitting in a café waiting for a my friend to show up for breakfast. I started sweating and I could feel my heart beating in my chest too fast. It felt like I had the flu, my legs and arms felt so heavy and I thought that I needed to get to the hospital quick. But I didn’t know how I’d get out of the café short of calling EMS to haul me out and that was just too public. So I close my eyes, breathed deeply and repeat..., slowly inhale deeply and exhale..., repeat. Ever so slowly I could feel my heart slow, the crowd noises made a pleasant hmm, slowly I went to a happy place. Not a destination or a real place but somewhere deep in my mind where I could control things..., I felt better. The heaviness I felt in arms and then my legs lifted. My heart slow and I didn’t feel so clammy, I smiled knowing I was getting this under control. I felt like the Buddha sitting in my little Mexican Café smiling, with eyes closed and in full control of what was going on in me. As I resurfaced I felt refreshed and calm, the happiness that filled me was so new and fresh. By the time my friend arrived I could tell her about my experience and I was relaxed and calm. I often use this technique to fall asleep though I enjoy the help of a sleeping pill to make sure I get the rest I need. Never let anyone fool you, we are in control of our body and minds.