It’s hard to believe that, by my reckoning, summer is half over. I reckon summer ought to last exactly as long as my summer vacations did almost seventy years ago — from the last Monday of May until the Monday after Labor Day. And here it is July 20.
I usually really like summer, but this year I have been very critical. Too triggery, too hot, too cold, too foggy, too sunny, blah blah blah. I’ve been feeling more fragile than usual and been taking it out on the weather, which doesn’t seem to mind. Or if it does mind, it’s not showing it.
It is not productive to hide indoors just because I was abused outdoors as a child. That makes no sense, considering I was also abused indoors. Giving in to agoraphobia robs me of all sort of experiences that I enjoy once I manage to unglue myself from the computer. I know that I always feel better after finally getting outside, and yet it can be so difficult to stand up, put on shoes, sunscreen, and sunglasses, and go out the door.
I can’t do a whole lot because of arthritis. I can swim, but I can’t walk from the parking lot to the lake. I can pull weeds, but I have to sit down to do any sort of gardening. No more Frisbee, no more hikes in the woods. However, my psychological condition limits my mobility far more than my physical condition. This annoys me no end because there is nothing I can do about arthritis — at least nothing more than I am already doing — but there are plenty of ways I can work on my hang-ups.
I’ll be damned if I spend the last half of this summer indoors. What I need to do is stop complaining and get good and mad. How dare they ruin my enjoyment of nature? What kind of jerks were they to try and spoil the best days of the year? Am I going to let them get away with it????
NO WAY!!! I’m going out, and if a memory gets triggered, so be it. Far better to learn a little more about my past than to sit cowering in a stuffy apartment. Most of the time, though, memories don’t come when I am outdoors. I am aware of the temperature, breezes, the soft green smells all around me. No matter what I do, it is meditative. When I go back indoors because I am tired or it is getting dark, I feel calmer, more myself, more human.
If getting mad works like I think it will, watch out fall, winter, spring — here I come!
Ritual Abuse 