For nearly two days I worried about Tupac, which I call Ron’s cat. I stayed up, I forced myself to do everything needed to make sure he was OK. I nearly fell out of bed twice because he was pushed so tight against me, and I was afraid if I pushed back he would be injured that I was right on the edge of the bed. I fed him in the bed, I let him pee and poop in the bed. I carried him around the house so he wouldn’t have to put his paw down on the floor. Yes, I was trying to be a good daddy. Meanwhile Ron was panicking and crying on the phone that we might have to put the boy down.
Here is my issue I want to share and ask all of the wonderful people who come here. It is not critical and if you don’t want to reply it is OK.
After all of this, All the lack of sleep, and all the effort, as I got home and started to relax, as I started watching other things on one monitor and as I started replying to comments on this monitor … memories started to invade.
I started struggling to deal with Tupac, the kitchen, even the blog. Memories after memories are flooding over me and through me. I was answering comments yet even as I write replies I have to delete some of what I wrote. What is wrong with me! I should be so happy as my husband’s cat is not got a broken leg and I only need to baby him to get him well.
Yet the places my mind is going into my past, my childhood is horrific and blocking everything I am trying to do. I once as a preteen swam out into the middle of a pond to save what would become my only praised love, the black lab and I did not know when I carried her cold shaking form back to the camper my adoptive parents had that I was signing the death warrant of our other dog. Also I had to bargain my damn body for the dog to live. I agreed and went into the camper to be raped repeatedly. Shit why does my mind go to these places they hurt so much?
Why. Suzy Sunshine asked me that question before admitting she had no way or conception how to help me. She tried to hide it but she was shocked and horrified by the few minor things I told her.
Sorry I got so damn distracted. The question is why now knowing Tupac is OK and everything will work out as I sat here at my computer starting to deal with everything … did my mind flood me with horrific memories of my past and of things I can not change? That is what I am struggling with. Please help if you have an idea?
See the rest I have been dealing with all my life. I watched librarians when I was 7 or 8 years old put the books I was reading behind their desk for me tomorrow while only touching me on my head as if they patted me on the back I cried out in pain. But my mind knew this. So why flood my memories with it when I realized Tupac was OK. Why is my mind sending me these memories?
Maybe you all have abilities I don’t. I am sorry if this post upset anyone. I am going back to replying to the wonderful comments. I just wanted everyone to understand what I am dealing with. Hugs
Scottie's Playtime 
I’ll take a guess, You are dealing once again with a sick animal. It can be traumatic as hell, because they can’t tell you what’s wrong, or if they’re hurting more, or less. And there’s a pretty good chance that in your efforts to comfort and care for this cat you are suddenly being yanked backward to an earlier time in your life. Your early life was, yes, horrendous, and the dog from back then has become the cat from now. I can see the connect, and maybe you can too.
The mind can be a terrible place, sometimes, and sometimes quite magical. But this time is different, you are different, and so is Tupac. hang on to that, Scottie. No one is going to hurt you this time. okay…
We don’t always outgrow old memories, sometimes they just get stuffed in a suitcase in the back of our mind, waiting to leap out.
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Hi Judy. Thank you. I guess I was worn down after it all. I just it when the memories cascade over me one leading to the next and all I felt then I feel / experience again. Hugs
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‘sokay. You’re hanging onto a difficult upbringing, and while most of the time you have it tightly stuffed into a pillow somewhere, it must take a lot of effort to keep it from coming back. And when something traumatic like this happens to the cat, you just don’t have any room left, and the bad stuff just pours out.
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Scottie, reading this, what strikes me most is not that anything is “wrong” with you, but that you’ve been carrying an enormous amount of stress and care these past two days. When everything finally eased — when Tupac was safe and you could breathe again — your mind had room to let other things surface. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed in any way. It just means you’re human, and you’ve lived through more than most people can imagine.
You’ve shared some of your past with me over the years, and I still struggle to comprehend how someone who endured so much could grow into the kind, gentle, fiercely protective person you are. The fact that those memories still hurt doesn’t make you weak. It speaks to the depth of what you survived.
I can’t tell you why your mind chose this moment, but I can say this: nothing about your reaction is strange or shameful. Sometimes when the immediate crisis passes, the old wounds take the opportunity to make themselves known. You’re not alone in that, and you’re not alone now.
You know hugs aren’t easy for me, but this is one of those rare times when the feeling replaces the discomfort. So I’m sending you a hug, with all the care that comes with it.
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Hi Barry. Thank you and I do appreciate your sending a hug as I do understand what such means to you. I hate what the cascading memories do to me, how they try to make me that scared little boy again. I struggle to realize I am not that kid anymore. The memories cause me to feel and experience everything as I did when I was being abused. As for how I became what I am, it was my husband who showed me what true love is, that showed me how kindness and compassion is not a weakness but a strength. I credit him for helping me be the person I am proud to be today. Best wishes always.
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Simply be kind to yourself, is all I know, Scottie. We’re all here for you. Breathe deeply.
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Hi Ali. Thank you. I really dislike what these memories do to me. They try to force me to become that scared little boy and I feel / experience everything as I did during the abuse. And if I can’t stop them the memories lead from one to the next to the next in loops. Hugs
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I’m familiar with that syndrome, though somehow, I’ve learned to allow one, maybe two pass on through before other thoughts and issues take back over. I’m not sure how to describe it, but it’s as an old philosopher once said; a person can entertain a thought and send it on its way, or let it pass on through, and move on to something in the present. Pets are good for helping that, that I know. Cooking or other chores also work, for me. Things come into my head, I keep doing what I’m doing, and they move along without issues. Sometimes I get insight, as they pass, into why I am as I am about some thing or another. But yours don’t work like that, I know. Yours are sneakier than mine. If you were a tea drinker, I’d make some recommendations.
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In times of crises we never know where or when triggers, will come from and what affect they have.
And often they will come at you in the aftermath of a crisis. You hold a lot in when working through it, and then in the calm comes the shock or the terrors.
Ask anyone who deals with crises on a regular basis, emergency services, combat environments
Basically you ‘did damn good’ Scottie in caring for Tupac and then this happens. Deep down part of you knew this was likely to happen and yet you still stood up and carried the load. That takes an inner courage, of the quiet sort,
Hero Scottie, acts that never make the headlines and yet are still heroic.
You’re a good, strong guy Scottie….We’re all with you
Roger & Sheila 🙏🌈❤️
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Hi Roger. Thank you. Your support means a lot to me. The memories cascade, they string one after the other. It is a loop that unless I can stop it keeps increasing in intensity. The memories cause me to become the scared little boy I was back then. I experience and feel it all like I did when it was happening. It causes despair and that was harder to deal with because Ron was not here. But the people who come to the blog were here / are here for me when I am in need. Hugs
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Hi Scottie.
Despite WP’s many quirks, and shortcomings I will give it this, more than FaceBook could ever hope for it does encourage bonding and small communities to form. I am glad you have so many to be with you when you need support.
Yes, I can understand that loop and the causes, I have many, far lesser ones seem to be around a lot these days, probably quite a lot of folk are having to face them in one form or another. Thus you are not alone Scottie, whereas we cannot grasp the full horror of your torment, we understand how it comes about. WE are with you.
Bless you and take care.
Roger & Sheila 🙏🌈
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My thoughts, based on what came to mind as I read your description.
(And I hope your mind lets you release this and lets you rest and heal.)
I remember learning a technique for fighting insomnia.
What you do is you go through your body, like start with your feet – tense them up, hold that tension. hold it… now release and let those muscles relax…
Now your legs… and so on.
This reminded of that. You got the tension from worry about Tupac and Ron, you held that tension until it resolved with the vet visit.
But when you relaxed that tension called forward tension from your past. It’s got things in common with what your Ron’s beloved cat and you went through.
This doesn’t reflect what is “wrong” with you, it reflects a PTSD reaction brought about by some similarities. I suspect you held it together because Tupac needed (needs) you. The only thing I can think of to suggest is to hug Tupac as much as he likes. I hope you can comfort each other until Ron returns.
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Hi MDavis. Thank you. I think what you are talking about with stress makes sense. I remember when I was young in the Army I worked with a guy who was a former medic. He told me that his son was deadly allergic to bee stings, like I am, and if his son gets stung while he is there his wife panics / freaks out while he gives the kid his EpiPen shot. But if he is not there his wife is totally calm and handles it perfectly but when he gets home she then freaks out. Hugs
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