Managing PTSD with Cannabis: My first cannabis industry article!

Posted in About me on January 13, 2019 by Tyrienne

Except for one more minor revision, here is the article I wrote for on managing PTSD symptoms with Cannabis.

The owner/editor of the website is absolutely fantastic and has really been thorough and positive with his suggested edits over the drafts of writing this piece.

I hope this is the first of a respectable career writing professionally in an industry I care deeply about:


Happy 2019! Random updates…

Posted in About me on January 8, 2019 by Tyrienne

The reason I have not been writing as often on this blog simply that my health and life have been improving overall leading to a busier schedule.

Last year, it was discovered my synaestesia and much of my depression was actually sourced from a chronic migraine condition. I have responded exceptionally well to standard treatments of triptans, gabapentin, medical cannabis, and botox injections to the crown, neck and shoulders.

I also have rescue medications for breakthrough headaches as well as a protocol at the local urgent care for emergency Toredol, needed about once every month or two.

…As a result, my activity level has increased significantly allowing me to pursue more meaningful activities over staring blankly at my phone, immobile with what I now know was simply pain.

It is fascinating that I had zero concept I was even in pain until I felt what it was like to suddenly be without it.

I spent the better part of the last year in trial and error migraine treatments, painted my ceilings black to help (it does!), and fluctuated between days of brilliant productivity and finding myself absolutely crippled by side effects of migraine medications.

However! I finally found some excellent specialists an hour away and now my migraines are fairly under control. I believe the worst part was not knowing, being misdiagnosed with everything from narcolepsy to fibromyalgia, when really, all I had wrong was a badly healed neck fracture and ‘a perfect storm’ of other individually mild conditions that all contributed to the migraine issue, including allergies, the wrong prescription glasses, and the understanding of the link between stress triggers for my PTSD overlap with my migraine triggers.

In the Autumn I survived a pretty severe eye injury that required an ER visit, an ophthalmologist, and a very good lawyer. I now own transition lens glasses that cost more than most of my former vehicles… the lenses tinted specifically for headaches and correcting other vision abnormalities I was not aware of beforehand.

The difference is tremendous. I highly recommend not visiting mall eyecare centers in favor of real, highly skilled specialists if you also endure terrible natural eyesight. The selection of frames in store is smaller, but I found frames I like for under a Benjamin to hold those expensive corrective lenses.

My glasses were so expensive because I literally got the “everything but the kitchen sink” package… which is good, I stepped on them the first week I had them and paid nothing to get the lenses replaced since I invested in insurance coverage for my clumsiness.

Otherwise, I now play the viola in three orchestras, two in Reading, and one in Allentown as weather permits.

I also somehow managed to get on the board of directors of the Reading Philharmonic; which is a really fantastic thing since I am finally using my Americorps Vista experience with the non-profit sector in a productive capacity. I never thought that would happen, but I am proud of this accomplishment, especially coming out from clinical agoraphobia for a few years.

Ed and I joined a gym where I can finally swim, and I do, daily, for one to two hours every day, and finally, I was just scouted to write editorials for a dispensary website; I am in the process of working with their editor to get my first article up shortly.

Otherwise, my tie dye is doing well, I am getting out more than I have in years, and feel pretty great overall.

Enough to live in a house that warm, safe, and clean (except for husky fluffs we sweep out daily)

I have finally surrounded myself with positive, supportive people and our little animal sanctuary here in Exeter is a pretty chill place. Our family of rescue animals is four cats, two dogs, and a snake.

Ed has his rabbits we purchased for $25 each who work as great vegetable garbage disposals/fertilizer producers.

Also, they got out a few times and in total we found homes for 43 baby rabbits before we were able to finally stop the neighborhood kids from leaving their hutch open.

Our wild rabbits are pretty remarkable cross of Flemush giant and Pennsylvania wild bunny. Our local rabbit population is likely giving our local predator population high cholesterol.

Our garden resulted in an epic growing season that resulted in baking and selling an awful lot of pumpkin pies, but hey, I learned a skill.

I also finally learned how to make a loaf of bread from scratch that is good enough to use for sandwiches.

So, when I am not on here, I am just enjoying being productive, not in pain, and just striving to live the most fulfilling life possible.

Today, I am recovering from a sinus infection thing I accrued after my root canal, so this post is simply burning off the prednisone here so I can be more focused to concentrate on my upcoming article.

I promise, if my editorial becomes published, I will post the link…and if it does not get published, I will still post it here somehow since I am incredibly proud of it as one of my best pieces I have ever created.

Overall, I feel positive and content. My episodes of PTSD on average now last four days or less, and I finally feel like life is falling into a solid, healthy pace. Having accessible medical marijuana has also been essential to my continuing recovery of both my mental and phtsical health.

I am presently on 60mg of Charlotte’s Web CBD oil, and even with this cold, I still feel well enough to want to go to the pool. (Or that could also be the prednisone, or both.)

I hope your 2019 holds as much promise and positive energy as I have experienced, and if not yet, I hope it happens for you soon!


A Different Timeline

Posted in About me on January 6, 2019 by Tyrienne

My Latvian grandfather died prior to my birth. As I get older, I think about him often.

I learned more about him in college and from random strangers than I ever did my own family. A military officer, known for his intelligence, rigidity, and obsession with propriety and order: he was admired, respected, trusted, and most of all, intellectually brilliant and infamously resourceful.

My family has said he was difficult to live with; his standards were excruciatingly high and so were his resentments towards anyone who fell short.

The benign thing about his untimely death prior to my birth is there are no negative experiences in my memory. When I was a child, he was simply a headstone in a November cemetary where few flowers grew.

He planted the black tulips in the yard and painted his home (my childhood home) the same green as his first military uniform.

Before the war he was an olympic level athlete, a competitive man in both skiing and shooting in his native Latvia.

He was multilingual, spoke English with a clear, British accent, and survived an incredible life serving multiple militaries. He survived the invasion of his home, the most difficult military training of his era, endured as a POW, and finally found safety (at least for a few decades) here in the United States where he found himself unexpectedly in a civilian life; channeling his frustrated energies into working multiple jobs to support his family hybridizing African violets and raising tropical fish in his spare time.

He was the only person on this Earth who held my mother accountable for anything whatsoever.

In my childhood, she told me all the ways he would have hated me. My grandmother, and those who knew him painted an opposite picture; that there are small fragments of genetic memory that reflect his memory in my adaptability and moments of pride.

My mother also lied to me, about me, beat me, subjugated me, starved me and treated myself and my grandma like her personal slaves.

During my bad days, I lose my forgetfulness. Today my brain was not kind to me.

Did grandpa survive PTSD as well? I survived hell, and I have enough facts to know without question he survived and thrived through much worse than I could possibly begin to comprehend.

But yet, his mind never failed him as my brain fails me with my flashbacks that involve no wars, no witnessing death first hand, nor decades of the constant threat of assassination.

Part of his endurance was the product of extensive education, indoctrination, and the consequence of any lack of vigilance during his military years would have been his death.

He died young, however, he was extraordinary in how long he managed to survive circumstances so adverse that he spent the last years of his life searching for knowledge of spirituality…sunlight through clouds in illuminatined shafts of light wa proof of divine communication;and every church a disappointment in the lack of a message to which his life could reflect.

Grandpa may have been many things- a man of the benign, placid Christianity of forgiveness and simpering on his knees before a divine sheep herder was not it.

In his Latvia, there was panpolytheism. Local nature gods (Dīevas) under a greater sky-God (Dīev or Zīu)

This is why I associate him with Tyr; if he lived to see Asatru begin it would have easily both fascinated and frustrated him.

He may have dismissed it entirely or embraced it completely to the point of resentment of those who hold to our ancestral beliefs only carelessly, half heartedly, and inaccurately.

In this life, there is very little chance I will know.

No public textbook has his name, and I am not even entirely sure that the name I know was his birth name.

What I do know: being his granddaughter, for a very short few years of my adult life, created bizarre opportunities for me for a very short period of time. I regret not using that window more carefully to research him when I could.

Maybe one day I can; and perhaps I will be appalled or disappointed.

Perhaps… my idealation would be reinforced.

I have written countlessly about flashbacks, but not so much my positive imaginings.

I imagine if he were given the time to be in my life he would have been stern and provided structure to my upbringing. He would have advocated for my education and nurtured my intelligence.

He would have not only encouraged every recognition and accomplishment, he would have been in the audience for every award. For every opportunity presented that slipped through my fingers growing up of camps for the gifted or early admissions denied to me; it would not have been a question of my participation, but a proud expectation that I would have been taught his meticulous nature and inherited his composure by example.

“She is my granddaughter, she succeeds because I taught her myself.”

My education would have been the highest priority. I would have earned his affection with my test scores. He would have stood up for me, kept those that harmed me from affecting me so deeply, if it meant he would raise me himself in his retirement.

The failures of my teenaged parents would have been offset with a role model that nurtured my strengths and taught me greater emotional resilience.

But, I never did know him. I only have stories, a few photographs, and the small traces he left behind in my grandmother’s home. I have never seen video of him, heard his voice, nor seen his thoughts written.

Like me, he was both loved and despised in equal measure. Unlike me, his mind and emotions were said to be exquisitely trained into complete obedience to his will leading to exceptional ability in observation and, as a result, intuition.

I would not have cried for violin nor piano lessons; he respected the arts. Instead of feelings of resentment of every opportunity denied, I would possibly have grown to resent being forced to practice each day- that drills in memory, mathematics, language, and other important things would have not been a punishment, but an inspiration.

I could have grown up with him as the greatest role model, or an even greater villian who could have robbed me of all childhood joy in exchange for endless education without respite, but successful by his influence.

And through that resentment, I never would have known the fractured reality in which I was actually raised: punishments without reason, violence at the slightest provocation, and chaos with no dream of order.

Was he a violent man or taciturn? Would he have loved me or would he have disowned me?

If he had lived I would have been unrecognizable to my present self in this timeline.

Regardless, the one thing that had remained undisputed is I would have been better for it, without awareness of the traumas of this timeline.

And I would be ungrateful; and I would have no way to communicate from this timeline to that how fortunate I would have been; even if I only had his influence for few years or many.

Lastly, he never believed in saying the words “I love you” He did make it clear to all who knew him ‘either you feel it or you do not’, that the words are meaningless to a concept so profound and outside of human capability to articulate.

He loved my grandmother enough to know to call her every medical emergency or accident within minutes. That is impressive considering the lack of cell phones of his time period.

Without love, he wouldn’t have cared enough to call even if he were informed. She never recovered from his death and she dreams of him often.

I only dreamt of him twice. Once where I watched him repair the electric of a hospital where I was overnight, his only words, “So…you are my granddaughter”

The other dream he sat behind a dark desk in a white room in his lieutenants’ uniform as he asked me questions on my philosophies, interview style, until he smiled at the very end of the dream indicating he approved of my manner of thinking.

The great thing about these fantasies is there is no true answers, but neither is there any trauma he can inflict upon me.

A dead man can hold no ability to inflict harm on the living by their own free will. The dead lose the active ability to effect change; even if history eventually reveals him as vile, corrupt, or malicious- my reality is unchanged by negative revelations of dead men I never met, just my understanding and my imaginings.

Only living people and circumstances wound us; to blame the dead is fallacious to project our own failures and faults away from ourselves.

In my thoughts, he was likely an honorable soul. If he was not, that was his own fault.

I will never meet him to know one way or the other.


However, I do know my grammar and spelling mistakes would be far less common.  One rare fact I own is his elocution was flawless, always.

New Etsy Store: Tiedye the American Folk Art

Posted in About me on October 10, 2018 by Tyrienne

I have been working hard over several months around my schedule of bad health and/or bad luck to create an Etsy shop with the purpose of generating some extra income for my family.

My goal is to purchase a good chicken coop with a run for a few laying hens… and also, I can really use a haircut.

Welcome to TwoMountainCreek

I picked the name literally because our property is creekside and between Mount Neversink and Mount Penn.

I have slow going in getting everything I want accomplished, but I am (mostly) proud of my work and I am always trying to add more as time and stamina allow.

Excellent tie dye is an American folk art. I am all for trying to make my tiny buisiness work. I upcycle thift store finds and occassional bulk purchase white t-shirts.

Yes, I do commissions and if you have suggestions on how to achieve some sales I am all ears. Each garment is washed several times and dyed with professional procion dyes.

These colors have yet to fade in any of the shirts I kept for myself, and I wear my own work as often as I can if I plan on being ‘out in the wild’…

Unfortunately, the only time I am out of the house lately is either orchestra or doctor appointments lately.

On the positive, I have friends coming by to help model for me! That should help since they . Miranda this weekend and my fellow Lokean Erik later this month if all goes well.

Here are some (but not all) of my designs for sale presently:

Support Heathen owned and operated buisiness: buy a shirt please!

Social Media is Terrible for everything (at least to me)

Posted in About me on October 3, 2018 by Tyrienne

I am still facebook free, however, I am still on Reddit a few times a day.

The last few weeks have been difficult, I was injured by a freak accident and had some other bizarre health issues…some of which lend me particularly to vulnerability and potential embarrassment. Without fail, I notice the articles displayed on the Reddit mainpage echoing and amplifying my fatalistic moments into panic.

I would like to pass.

I have been making some lifestyle changes; namely, attempting to conscientiously spend as little unproductive time on the internet as possible in exchange for real world stuff.

I know I cannot possibly be the only human who feels kicked in the teeth by a news article or twenty that just-so-happen to prey on vulnerable insecurities or negative recollections of personally traumatic experience.

I am not the only person with CPTSD. Also: I believe even people with normal mental health can feel utterly miserable after a few minutes on the internet.

This is not healthy, folks. I may be the old, tailess fox attempting to convince you my inability to operate much online since I have too many traps that can retrigger a psychological spiral into the flashback ghetto…

Then again, who has not been profoundly hurt by life, at least once…in a way they do not want to be reminded of ad nauseam?

Pretty much what I can conclude is most people online are both hurting for any number of reasons and somehow, also aggressively defensive of their sovereign views shared by whatever chosen few we each align as if we are not manipulated by every variety of digital media….

As for me, I am working my damndest to wrestle and regain enough of my attention span back from digital media to be able to read a book like I used to without a loss of attention.

Unless, I can be productive. Writing is productive. I’ll allow this exception along with posting my tie-dye on etsy (To list a single shirt takes over an hour!) Or catch up on documentaries or instructional videos.

In other news; I now play with two orchestras. Viola, mostly- also some violin and cello. I might pick up a cheap flute.

Gods… just keep me off the fucking internet!

The I Quit Facebook Challenge

Posted in About me on August 26, 2018 by Tyrienne

Please quit facebook.

It is lonely without it, true.

Your friends will mistakenly think you blocked them.

You will lose long-time connections and be consistently ‘out of the loop’ on most identity politics.


You will regain the ineffable.

I have been off of all social media outside of Reddit since May 1st, I deleted both facebook profiles, and I do not regret it.

I cannot explain exactly why- but I see most social media as too invasive, cancerous, and as incubators of needless strife.

Focus is removed from the local and inminant and placed on the distant, the intangible and multipled with cultivated panic and fears in the absurd.

I miss a hell of a lot of you, but there is no fucking way I am wading through that swamp of insanity and sorrow when there are still perfectly valid methods that exist outside of facebook to reach me. If you want my email/phone number, ask.

My reddit handle is u/Tyrienne .

My life is still strange. I am now in treatment for chronic migraine- completely bewildered that synaestesia is actually migraine aura…and what I thought was depression is actually pain.

After some awful mishaps, I am responding very well to standard treatment of Topamax and rotated Triptans…and will be receiving my first round of over 30 botox shots to my head and neck in about a week.

My migraines originate from a childhood neck fracture that was not addressed properly when it occurred, nor should have ever occurred in the first place. My mother had a habit of strangling me… despite multiple MRI/CAT scans over the years, the healed over compressed vertebrae in my neck was overlooked, like my synaestesia, by most doctors.

I am trying to process it all, but everything is happening at a very rapid pace at this time.

There are days of outstanding productivity thanks to the new treatment, as well as days that are of pain that I have not known prior- it seems treatment means instead of remaining at a constant level of “barely functional” I now exist in two extremes between “super functional” and “utterly useless”.

Most of my family and close friends have no idea any of this has/is even occurring. The past few months has been a blur of hospital visits and constant medication switching.

I feel incredibly grateful that I now have profound hope for my own future, but I also wrestle with a great deal of complicated emotions regarding my past.

My anxiety remains unchanged.

Regardless, quit facebook. It will be good for you…and while you are at it, stop drinking soda and eating processed foods.

To be more positive: endevour to rise above social media and liberate yourselves from all that harms you.

Hailsa:) I am still alive.

-Ren (Tyrienne)

Don’t assume.

Posted in About me on August 12, 2018 by Tyrienne

I did. I am naïve as all hell, and this has led to some interesting situations.

Now I am stuck hiding in my house sick as a dog because I trusted in the intellect and inherent belief of goodness of all medical professionals only to have found myself the survivor of gross incompetence leading to hospitization and a near future visit to some hardcore medical facility over an hour away.

On the bright side, at least my diagnosis was cleared up in the ER as just simple migraines responsive to simple treatments; however mismanagement of my case requires I need to get to the superior health system in my area for appropriate treatment.

Do not trust doctors who want to try ‘experimental’ treatments on you, folks… do not allow yourself to ever be a guinea pig out of blind trust.

Next problem…How will I learn to trust any neurologist again?