One year ago today, my own pandora’s box was opened. One year since all the worst traumas were released. One year ago since the worst sorrow I’ve ever experienced was unleashed. Today’s world mental health day is focused on time, giving time. Time again. Today is also the day I, in collaboration with other artists and labels, publish a tribute album. It’s our tribute to a friend we lost. Jared C. Balogh, passed away Monday, April 1, 2019. He was a multi-disciplinary artist. I had the chance to collaborate with him. Music brought us together. Never met him in person, but we heard each other through music. He passed away way too young, 43 years old.
So, time. Yes, time again. We all need time. Time for ourselves. Time for others. Giving time is important. Respecting our own time and each others time. I’ve been told “give yourself time” as if it was going to ease my pains.
For me it’s not about time, it’s about what I actively do with it. Letting time pass does not heal my wounds. That I know. Embracing the pain those wounds cause me is much better than just letting time pass. Doing something out of that pain lets me live with those wounds. Because those wounds are a part of me. Trying to hide them did not make them disappear. Denying them did not make it easier for me. Letting time pass did not heal them. I do it. I heal them. That’s the real meaning of giving myself time. Time to be myself. Time to be alone. Time to confront my demons and put them to work for me. Time to create. Time to play music. Time to take photos. Time to be with whom I want to be. That’s what takes time. Transforming all those wounds into something new that makes sense for me.
I’ve been creating for decades, it has always been my self learned therapy. My subconscious has always pushed me to create. But it wasn’t until this year that I started to understand the real meaning of my creations. Where it all came from. It wasn’t until I actively worked with my traumas that all gave meaning for me. I said to myself that giving myself time wasn’t enough for me, that time itself doesn’t heal. It is me who heal the wounds. My wounds are always going to be with me. I embrace them. My PTSD has been wining the battle until I decided that it was time to stop hiding my wounds. It’s my PTSD who’s slowly kneeling before me now. I’m becoming the master of my PTSD. I don’t expect it to simply disappear with time. I know that it hits me every time I’m down-guarded. So I need to be on guard. That I accomplish by being creative. Denying my PTSD would take me back to the most painful and difficult path.
I mentioned it in another post, my perception of time maybe is not as usual as I thought. For me time is an illusion we create so we can process our environment in order to survive in it. By just letting time pass I’m holding my real me and empowering my constructed me, which is a consequence of my PTSD, to decide for me. I’ve been aware of my non existence for over three decades. I’ve been longing something that I couldn’t explain until recently. Pain, existence, happiness and non existence are, as I see it, concepts that I can only understand because of time. When time has been absent for me, all those perceptions have been as one. I can only feel happiness because of my ability to feel sadness. Time is like water, it has the power to turn stones into pebbles. If I let time turn me into a pebble without allowing my deepest wounds be an equal and observable part of me, then my happiness will be the part of me that erodes and my deepest wounds will be the core that’s left before turning into dust. So denying my deepest wounds affects my health in a negative way. It affects my immune system, my nervous system, my muscles, my ligaments… it affects my whole real me. That’s why I now let my sorrow be as important as my happiness, I accept it and do the best out of it.
That’s how I can control my PTSD, by being open and sharing. By communicating in my own terms.
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