Wednesday, June 29
Celebrate your life! All of it. Every corner and curve. Let your past inform your present to make you a fuller, kinder, more honest and spontaneous person in your future. That’s today’s recovery insight.
Walked okay, typing acceptable for brief stretches, slept like an angel.
Thursday, June 30
There was a black and white cat named Tito who lived next to where I am now. My first residence in Orvieto was also on Via Pecorelli, so I would pass Tito in front of his palazzo several times a day. We quickly became friends. He had a very loud and continuous meow, and would begin calling as soon as he smelled me on the wind. Those days he spent most of his time outdoors, scrupulous about his territorial boundaries. By the time I moved here, a year ago last October, he was spending most of his time indoors, but if he was out he would begin to call as soon as the main door to my building was open. Last December I saw him for the last time, and the finality of that visit was verified about a month ago by the lady who lived with him and his sister, Gigia.
From Stuck on Pause by Janice Hadlock:
“In the field of psychology, silent or spoken communication with an intangible, not physically present, loving and trusted friend, real or imaginary, is referred to as a parasocial relationship. The parasocial relationship, what I call ‘the invisible friend,’ can be one of the most helpful tools in making an accurate diagnosis, as well as a crucial tool for turning off pause.” (Because like prayer or meditation, it stimulates the striatum.) Janice later suggests you choose a deceased Friend who you knew well and loved; a best friend, favorite aunt, beloved pet. I had chosen most recently a best friend from college, and the relationship has been sweet, and honest, and sassy. Then day before yesterday I realized that every time I leave the building I check for Tito, even though I know I won’t find him there. So my college friend now has feline company. I hope he’s not allergic.
(The photo for this post is of Tito and Gigia, he is on the right.)
Friday, July 1
This morning’s insight from Friend (human). “Worry is a waste of energy and intension. Worry about the past is worse than worry about the future, and worry about the present doesn’t exist. Free yourself.”
Leaving the building for the evening walk, I checked to see of Tito was in front of his house. He wasn’t, but I could hear his meow in my head. Then I asked Friend to alert me when I slipped into or out of pause mode. He said he would. I asked again that the distinction be as clear as could be expected at this stage of my recovery. He said fine. The instant I began walking on the sagrato, he noted that I was in pause mode. I stopped, opened my heart, and began again to walk. He explained that walking in less than perfect form frightens me, and I go into pause, which of course worsens my walk and I enter a self-feeding downward spiral. “Don’t hide in your hole every time you feel a bit dizzy!” he told me. I could feel a physical difference in my brain after the adjustment, and the walking was more fluid (and more courageous) than it has been for quite awhile, and for all of the six unassisted laps. I was so happy (and tired) I could barely speak for the next half hour.
Saturday, July 2
“Don’t overthink it,” Friend said when I asked for a similar awareness of pause for this morning’s walk as last evening’s. “This morning will be different, and you’ll see how when you get there.”
It was still a very good walk, just as courageous and positive, just maybe a bit more tired, though not for lack of sleep. Friend’s warning was repeated when after a recliner nap I could not stop shaking; I eventually paced the hall for a few minutes which worked to quiet my nerves. Regardless, movement around the house has been relatively smooth all day, and for that I am grateful. The evening on the sagrato was about equal to the morning.
I’ve been here before three or four times in the past year, walking and movement in general steadily growing freer. Then each time it all crashed in a single day and I was back, more or less, to where I’d started. That hasn’t happened yet, but I asked Friend about it. “You would have a slightly off day, panic, and crawl back into your pause hole. And a little bit you were afraid of recovery, so you’d set yourself up to undermine it.” I’m determined to change that.
Sunday, July 3
Walking continued in good form. Friend continued to exhort me not to overthink. On Friend’s advice (more like orders, really) I also paced the hall several times. Both walking and pacing included deliberate stimulation of the striatum by various means, and I have avoided crawling into my pause hole for imagined protection.
Monday, July 4
Way before I discovered the Parkinson’s Recovery Project and formalized my parasocial relationship with Friend, I conducted inner duologues with some higher entity, and five years ago when I first noticed signs of PD, I asked for advice. Over the next three years or so, every time I expressed internal concern I received the same reply – you will get through this, but understand; “through”, not “over” and not “around” but “through” and for good. Today Friend picked up on that theme. I have viewed getting through as a teeth clenching, shoulder to the wheel kind of effort, but Friend said, “it is a difficult process but one of permitting and allowing and progressively opening stuck places, it is joyful not grim.”
Walking and pacing today has not been as fluid as it has been since Friday, but I haven’t crawled back into my pause hole, so I have hope that I can navigate my way through to calm waters.