on grounding

i learned recently that memory loss can be a sign of trauma. i learned this because something happened and there are two days on either side of it for which i can’t quite remember when things happened.

(i’m better, now.)

timelines are grounding, and trauma is dissociative. the first time i had a panic attack, i felt like i was floating up near the ceiling, watching the fetal me hyperventilate and cry on the floor next to my bed. the floor was grounding, and when anxiety has crept up on me again in the years since, my first instinct is to get onto the floor.

my therapist tells me that i can make a little kit of emergency groundedness, like my sewing tin. except instead of needles and spools of linen thread and my favorite steel pins, it’s a mental box with chamomile+clove+lavender tea, the softest sweatshirt, wool socks from norway, a list of people who will hold my vulnerability and remind me to be gentle and kind. if i needed them, meds would be in there too. like aminatou says, if you can’t make your own neurotransmitters, store-bought is fine.

I’ve been trying to build patterns of groundedness too, not just the emergency kind. rituals of care, practicing joy. fresh peonies blooming in a pitcher, little cherry tomato and calendula seedlings poking up from the earth. sun salutations in the morning, moon salutations at night. celebrating successes, learning from failures. grateful to learn from a movement that has been fighting back for so long.

it’s thunderstorm season in colorado. the rain heals, too.

a few healing practices for spring, for anxiety (at least, for my anxiety), for anytime and always:

  • find a sliding scale therapist. find a therapist of color. yes, therapy is expensive and stigmatized and both of those facts are shit.

  • cook something delicious, in the style of the queen.

  • grieve, when you need to. grief is necessary.

  • dance in your living room, in your car, on your bed, out loud and unapologetically.

  • instead of panicking about the current state of reproductive rights, be angry and do something. first, remember that abortion is still legal. learn from women and trans folks of color who have been leading reproductive justice movements for decades. donate to your local abortion fund. become a clinic escort. learn what resources exist in your state. remember that not everyone with a uterus is a woman, and people with uteruses get abortions.

  • it is never too late to plant some seeds.

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2018