A troubled soul - she and I

If this blog were completely anonymous she would be able to write all that is in her head,
about certain persons who have been in her life, who seem to hang on a hanger in her wardrobe.
A troubled soul.. this description for myself arrived today.

There are:
Those who will never understand this lifestyle in not her own country.
Those who have never lived alone for any structured period of time.
Those who have never lived alone in France for any structured period of time.
Those who have lived alone but NOT in France and NOT in a different country or indeed in this particular touristic village of France.
Those who are not her.
There are those who do not understand her, but, there is no need.
Some tell her what to do and others do not.
Some influence, others do not.
Some have given up advising from the perimeter.

The following has haunted me all my life and affects how I think people understand me:

There are those who never heard her father yelling at her mother ...
who never felt her trauma fear that made her hide until a storm had passed.
who never saw her mother physically violated causing scars on her back which I never saw but heard about, whilst attempting to protect her firstborn with cerebral palsy, her two normal birthed girls and her business livelihood to keep us all afloat. Sometimes we were shut out of the house until debris had to be cleared.  Her poor dear deranged father, mother, and family. It's really hard without a mother who was always there but never one to be talked to or who would talk about mother daughter things.
She feels she is a troubled soul today. BUT IT IS NOT ALWAYS THIS WAY.
Good things DO HAPPEN.
She has tried to integrate...thinks it isn't working because communication in French must go beyond words.  Maybe it is just a slow process, like the man in Suffolk once said,
"You have to live here for 25 years before you are accepted", just as did a temporary neighbour, quite recently say,
"You have to live here for 20 years before your language is fluent".
When one feels one does not belong anywhere ,then one is adrift and needs an anchor.
A home and family was my vision but it's just little old me. The children have their own lives.

Troubled by childhood trauma that won't seem to let go though she has tried kicking it down the lane.
Troubled by that man she loved or thought she loved who caused deep wound PAIN.
A lovely man.
A troubled soul too.
She perceives his most recent typed rant, justified or not as a response to her written word, as there was and is no other form of communication over 19 months and more has been misjudged.
She is not always careful with typed word. Mild dyslexia of setting down thoughts needs to be worked at. She onfuses grammar and content.  She knows she can be misinterpreted.  She knows thoughts should not be set down in print and if they are, should be severely edited at a later date when MIND has had time to settle the anxious brain.  Sometimes, she needs to express: be heard whist trying hard not to judge her neighbour but to judge herself.  She knows she should not reveal herself but she does!

Today she thinks again in disbelief how close they were when they were fulfilled in love.
Looking back, she feels used and abused.
Victim mentality. That is the hardest pain.
The pain of something beautiful destroyed has taken away opportunity.
However the opposite is it has given rise to other opportunities.
Turn it around.
She is not abused.  She is noit a victim.

She has been given a gift of Life to open the door and windows mentioned in the Header of this Blog. Stop letting negativity win.

She poured out her soul. The troubled soul that his yelling at her made her freeze on alert for the monthly storm of her father.  A wound does not heal if it is constantly opened.
When she once told him that it made her afraid of him ... that it was like her father yelling ... he just stared and blinked his wide-open blue-grey eyes, mouth agape almost.  Surprising for him,  as usually a very tight lipped person until the YELL or SHOUT came OUT without warning to last maybe a second or minute, hour, week and sometimes month or months, harboured, without reference, without remorse, without apology, without reason, without excuse and sometimes combined with silence for as long!

The victim of the SHOUT is a startled rabbit ready to run, to hide, to escape, to get away from pain to come.  No wonder adrenal glands feel shot!  They control fear, flight and freeze: she never knew the last until recently. Freeze is what has been a disability all her life when intimidated.  It interrupts the breathing pattern. Messes up the body support system.
Sing, dance, play music, be practically creative and the Frozen state melts.
One should not brush a SHOUT under the carpet for it to gather dust and lie dormant for it will sneak out when least expected.
It needs to be swept up and challenged as to WHY it is happening from that person.
I know.
I was a SHOUT when a condition / illness and my own non understanding of what was happening inside me, could not keep pretending she was OK.

Today ~ I don't wish to go out on my own or be with others, but to be in Nature under a tree would be a nice thing to do. There are trees at the other land.  I should try with a rug and a book, a pillow and a picnic.  Today, and for some time, I am lazy with procrastination in the Summer wall of heat.

Today I am chastised for being me.
Am I but my own obligation?
I called to talk, not to unload,  but to have a sense of normality, increasingly difficult when conversational interchange does not flow.

The heat of days could be an excuse... it is probably cooler to be out in a breeze.
I didn't want to go to a car boot sale, a restaurant or bar or drive an ailing vehicle without climatisation and windows that open to escape from me.
Despite two hours mid afternoon sleep I am really tired. I think the reason is it can arise from insufficient exercise, stimulation. One could say I am  bored but I have enough to do.

Things can change in a moment without notice to change a troubled soul.
I am about to have an adventure and a little nervous.
This thought brings a smile to counter tears today.
We don't cry every minute of every day like we did when completely abandoned in France with a house around my neck,  to renovate and live alone.
There is always a lesson why Life is as it is or isn't.

A troubled soul....signifies to listen to the lesson and turn it around.

I mostly understand myself.
Sometimes she is overwhelming to others and herself...
all that she needs to do is overwhelming,..
she doesn't have stamina, energy or motivation to do all of it
but she keeps the rooms as tidy as she can,
clears up untidiness that she alone can make quite easily.
Tries to keep ORDER.

Something seems to have died...
Something will grow again.
Something will live.

The troubled soul will allow itself to be healed.
Recognition is always the first step in a process.

The troubled soul would like to write a letter to her mother at least but she is not here to read it.

She thinks she has words enough for a boring book, but doesnt know how to do it.
People would not wish to listen, let alone hear or read.
Probably a load of personal trivia as in this blog.
I CARE to have my DREAMS, my reveries.

This next adventure must be a spring board for the settling of the soul....