Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

Sharing the struggle…

I have been so blessed to be down here with Nahko Bear. We have grown together. We have come to know one another deeply and profoundly. We have both learned a lot in our time here together. This morning we go to the vet for her re-check, so please say a little prayer for Nahko Bear today! Nahko has been such a good girl and we have really bonded down here. Naps in the baby bear den have been the highlight and being able to work on her incision 24/7 since she came home has been epic, in terms of her recovery. Mala Bear is going out of her mind without her sissy! Nahko and Tamara and Mala and I thank all of you for all of the love and prayers, as we feel you and appreciate you so much!

I want to talk about you guys this morning. How are you? I haven’t heard from many of you and your absence is noticed. I’m sure many of you have not heard from me also. Being in the world is hard for me sometimes, and so I’m not out much unless I have to be. Does this happen to you too? You make it to work and you go places that feel cozy and safe and otherwise lockdown? I find that I do this more if I’m not feeling well or if I’m hurting. So, I’ve flown under the radar for a few years now. I notice that some of you do that too. I just want you to know that I see you. It’s a lonely place to be sometimes. I see you.

I know that many of you are suffering and I want you to know that I’m sorry you don’t feel well. Being in such a state makes it very hard to find healing. I have been stuck in my suffering and so I have been stuck. Like quicksand at times…pulling me under unmercifully and without reprieve. I feel this in you too and I want you to know I see you.

Many of you have lost someone. Some of you are losing someone right now. I see you and I feel you. There is no good way to let go. There are no right words. There just is. When I sat next to my Mom as she died, it just was. Afterwards it was so, so many things. As she peacefully slipped away though…it just was. We just were. She and I…in that moment…we just were and it just was. That just came to me, by the way…the peace of that moment. Every time I have been present when a heart stops beating, there has been peace in that single and solitary moment. The moments immediately following are utter chaos. The moment she went though…pure peace. 12:06pm was peacefully. Every moment since has been a living fucking hell for me…that moment of passing though, was the most peaceful I have ever known with her. The moment my mom just let it all go. Sixty six years and finally a last breath and a moments peace. I am blessed to have been there. My mom saved that for me and I am honored and blessed to have held her hand when she took her last breath. I am humble to have been with her when her heart stopped beating and she left this place. My mom carried me in and I carried my mom out. Anything either one of us may have missed along the way, and we both missed plenty….we shared our most sacred moments with one another in this lifetime. We were there for the comings and the goings. We held each other closest when it mattered the very most. I am finding peace in the things that have brought me the most pain and I am grateful. I miss my mom and I am glad that she is at peace. I miss my mom and I am happy to be finding my own peace in the loss of her.

I know it is different for everyone and I know that losing those we love the most is never easy, no matter how evolved we think we are. In my life, there wasn’t really preparation for death. Death was scary and uncomfortable and something to be feared. Death was the end and something to avoid at all costs. I do not see death that way at all anymore. Death is not something to fear. Death is a welcome home. We love our whole lives just to die…and we live in fear. Why do we fear death so much? Death is the reprieve at the end of a life cycle that warrants rest. We finally get to rest. Why do we fear resting so much? Why are we so resistant to being dead when all we do is bitch about how much we hate our fucking lives? So puzzling to me…these things in my life that I have feared for always. Death is not to be feared. We will all be dead one day. No matter what God you do or do not believe in…we will all be dead someday. God. No God. Faith. No faith. Nothing changes dead for any of us. Dead may be your end and dead may be your beginning. Either way though…we live our whole lives to wind up dead. Not one of us, no matter what we have gained in life, dies with anything other than us. I think it’s pretty profound to think that we are all so different that we neglect to acknowledge that we are all exactly the same. Death will teach you that if your life failed to do so.

When we die, people will gather ’round and be as they are. We will be dead and we won’t see how loved we really are. We will have lived our entire lives feeling alone, in the middle of love we never even knew existed. Death is not what gets us. We live our lives without really living at all…and then death comes for us. I think that’s something to avoid at all costs, don’t you think so? I mean to be so afraid of dying that you never even live your life. I believe that my mom was more afraid of living than she was of dying. I think a lot of us are like that. I’m just here to suggest that we give it a good honest try before we go…this living thing. Give it a try…living your life on your terms. What would that even look like for you? And not with reckless abandon…with loving intent, shall we all move forward, into our own lives.

I want to share something with you. A personal battle that I found myself in and how I resolved it. I hope it helps you to know that you have more control over yourself and your life than you think you do. Her it goes. I have been on Trazadone since my mom got sick. It was prescribed to me to help me to sleep. I wasn’t remembering how I got to and from my parents house to my house. I was so fucking exhausted and grief-stricken, and my doctor put me on trazadone. Thank God! I have tried to come off of it a few times and every time I try to quit taking it, I cannot sleep. My doctors have kept me on, as I desperately need my sleep. When I came down here with Nahko, to live with her in the studio until she gets well, I went off of my trazadone. I will not lie, it has been hell. Apparently, I became dependent upon this drug to sleep at all and without it, well, I got no sleep at all, for days. It worked out okay though, Nahko needed me to be awake and ready to help her. I sweated and shook and shitted and felt like I was going to vomit. I felt like I was fucking dying. I hit a low, low, of the lowest lows in my depression. I tossed and I turned and I thanked God there was no clock to show me how excruciating slow this was going to go down. I had no idea that I was addicted and I had no fucking idea that “cold-turkey” detox from trazadone is not at all recommended, until after I quit that way. Here’s the thing though…it felt like poison to me. All of a sudden, my body said no…stop taking it…you don’t need it…you have to stop, and so I did. It has been fourteen nights without trazadone, fourteen slumber parties with Nahko Bear…and I am good! I have absolutely no pharmaceutical medication in my system. I beat an addiction that I didn’t even know I had. I sweated and shitted and urinated out what no longer serves me. This isn’t for everyone, and yet this is the only way I will ever be able to do me…the way it makes sense to me. I was talking to a friend who mentioned that she was struggling with sleeping pill addiction and it was then that I realized I may need to look at myself. I was right. Over the course of the past three years, I became dependent upon sleep medication, unbeknownst to even myself. Today, I am grateful for that conversation and for being able to set down what no longer serves me. Of all of the medication they prescribed for me, I am happy to report, that I no longer need any of it. Trazadone turns out to be an antidepressant, which I have never tolerated well, as so I suspect that some of my struggle with suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation, in addition to my CPTSD may be because I have been on an antidepressant all of this time. Off to therapy today to discuss all of this, as I really had no idea until I got deathly sick going off of it and started to research it that I was addicted to it, that I became aware of exactly what I was taking. Anyway, I thought I would throw this out there, just in case you find yourself in a similar situation. Who knew? I am so thankful that I have been able to overcome this and to detox from it without major fallout. I do not recommend ever doing this, especially without the guidance of your physician. I was already doing it before I realized that it could be dangerous. I’m done with it now and I am so thankful.

Have a beautiful day everyone! Always know that you are stronger than you think you are. We all are stronger than we think we are.

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