Urge surfing, Life is a Trip, surfing vs, drowning

I just learned about the term "Urge Surfing".
It applies to addictions - but I believe it could come into play with feelings of frustration, guilt, anger - those times of fight or flight when you feel you might (or want to) give up and do something stupid.

The idea is to think of the urge, issue, frustration, trigger point etc. as a large wave -- and it's peaking.... think about riding that wave, get on top of it... surf the urge.  Eventually, as sure as the world turns -- that wave is going to break and plummet and recede.  So if you can surf on top and ride the urge - you can ride it down.  Own it, rather than it owning you.  Ok, yes, the wave will crest again -- but perhaps not nearly as large and you can surf it even easier. Then again - it can hit Tsunami proportions -- well, imagine the power in at least trying to command that friggin wave and not succumbing to it -- even that waves gotta come down some time.

I've Urge Surfed I realize -- figuratively through years of abuse/PTSD -- the drill.

 But I also did it literally - alone, in the middle of the night on a wild beach in Costa Rica - I've traveled the world alone... a lot.

I hit the crest of a wave, thrilled by the power - but one of them, it took me out.  I was tumbled under - realizing no chance for air - and there were rocks coming up around shore. I wondered how soon it'd be before I lost consciousness -- or banged my body head into the shore and how long it'd be before anyone found me -- and how much that mattered.  Weird thing here -- I never felt so alive, so curious - so relaxed in having tried and lost control.  I did get tumbled out onto shore - and was dazed and confused. But I felt so alive - so in charge of where I could go next, what I could do.  I did not let that wave break me. If if did, so be it, but I surfed it -- no it was not smart but it was empowering - I realized in this case.... I made the choice, I was not a victim to a perp. I was victim to my own experience, my own choice. I realized, this is the direction I needed to go -- to make my choices,,, MY CHOICES.   This wave taught me the difference between the power of Thoughts (figurative Urge Surfing) and Action (surfing).  We have so much more power over not allowing thoughts to tumble us under -- we can Choose before we Act. If we choose to React to the Urge -- chaos.

I always wondered what it would be like to be one of those people who just coasts through life -- but then... I love adventure, I do take risk -- I am working on making the choices that are right for me (I just trashed a terrifically good paying job - because it was toxic hell) and I never felt more sure. Scared yes, but clear and hopeful.  All part of reinventing self.

Coasting would be boring -- at the very least I know I've lived one hell of a life - and though Im angry at some of what I went through - ... this time, I will make the choices - if I choose to surf the urges and follow my intiution.

I def need a few more surf lessons -- this I know.  I did learn where to find Costa Ricas best Lemonade -- Life is a trip.

PTSD and a night in a mental ward.. maybe it'll improve my art

I wake up feeling nervous, I just do. Can't put my finger on it... May have to do with not knowing what comes next. But isn't that true at all times? You can never know. 
Brain scan and MRI this week....
I had a blackout episode last week... Lost 6 hrs of time... I'm a very coherent, rational person so this was a cage rattler and an embarrassment to say the least. Last thing I remember? Ringing the bell at my local police station... Asking for help because although I knew I drove there, I had no recollection or memory of how this came to be. I did not call my husband, did not even think or couldnt think more to the point.. and told the officer that I was unsure of self... So I ended up in a mental facility overnight (huh!? Me??) Felt more like a jail.. But coed. Me; Grad school: 4.0, public speaker, expert in my field, successful... well that night I learned all about panhandling, how to store crack and meth internally, lots of tips for being strung out and homeless.... fascinating but not required reading....  I instinctively stood by the office window most of the night so I was seen by attendants at all times and I was given a pad to lay on in the hallway since all beds were taken.... Wow... New experience.   Wasn't scared exactly, just knew I stood out a bit much... Not to mention all your clothes are removed and you are all there naked, save for a gown... Lets just say, I saw some parts of anatomy of people I'd rather not remember. Bad enough the obese guys on the beach wearing Speedos? Take the Speedo away... That was my evening....
I cannot explain this episode completely, and its possible there's something neurological and/or psychological of course.
But I've been through so much in my life and powered through. I've been thrown out of a moving vehicle by my ex husband , rolled into a ditch. Hitchiked in a bloody painful stupor to get help and get home.  Still persevered, stayed in school, got fantastic grades... No one ever knew... 
So why now the weirdness? I keep thinking... Is it because I am now labeled as someone with unmistakable PTSD?  Does the label create the trigger that says... Ok, now you can let go of handling and sustaining... Now you can just 'lose it'.  This is not me.. I'm tough, I endure and keep moving... I have a shot at a terrific new life... Ok, I'm not used to being loved and cared for... But is this what happens? You get a shot at a great life and only THEN the symptoms and vulnerabilities start to appear? Where is my thick skin that can look fear and abuse in the face and say.. Go ahead... Just do it... You won't break me.
I started painting this really intense work Ill post it soon.. It's in progress but its a telling, haunting work... But quite colorful and I believe I am going to like it when it finishes.  
Ok, I'll just keep trucking... I'll put my weirdness to the side for now and have my day. We all do this in one way or another I suppose

You ever get to that place....

You ever get to that place in life where you know the next few months are going to be profound whether you want them to be or not? You look at so many others just going about their business, (not so naive to say they don't have their own issues) --- and yet, you are aware you carry along such a treasure trove of past occurrences of both profound pain and tremendous accomplishment that you dont know quite how to label yourself. You know you dont quite fit in, though you are an expert at seeming so.

But then, the label is written for you -- caste from a 120 question form that blows your mind - for every question where you say yes -- you know the normal answer would be no.... and there it is... a lifetime of accomplishment, glamour, top of class --- having survived through 20 years of captive hell - Complex PTSD? Are you kidding?  No wait, yes.... that's me... now what do I do?