post trauma.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was always of the mindset that such an immense mental state was reserved for those who have been through the worst of it: soldiers, first responders, victims of serious accidents. …those who had seen the absolute worst in humanity. In assigning that much weight to such a phrase, we forget to acknowledge what it really is.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a disorder in which a person has difficulty recovering after experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event. Symptoms vary from the most extreme, including nightmares and flashbacks, to those symptoms that we chalk up to other factors, such as anxiety and mood swings.
I was diagnosed with PTSD just about two years ago, and sitting with that diagnosis was one of the most surreal moments of my life. Every thought ran through my head. How could I have this, my experiences don’t warrant that, right? Then it clicked. Of course I have PTSD. How could I not after everything I’ve been through?
The strange thing about trauma is that we try to move forwards to heal, to move on versus looking backwards. We see it for the catastrophic moment that it is, we pick up the pieces of ourselves, and we puzzle ourselves together to forge ahead. After my accident nearly eleven years ago, I was fresh out of college with the world at my fingertips. Jobs to find, drinks to be had, a future to build, a family to look forward to and celebrate with. I felt like if I dwelled on the accident, if I continued to give it weight, I was only slowing myself down, and slowing down those around me.
Eleven years have passed since my trauma. Eleven years of building, living, and seeing what would happen if I just left everything in the past, buried. When I was finally brave enough to acknowledge the effects of my post trauma, I sought out therapy. This thing was bigger than me. I had spent years helping everyone else cope with my trauma, assuring them I was fine. I helped build up my support system to believe I was the same brave survivor. I encouraged people to move on so I could believe I also was moving on.
In doing so, and in “moving on”, this thing made me someone I was not proud of. I had flashes of anger, resentment, and fostered relationships that weren’t nurturing me, but draining me, and I had terrible self doubt and anxiety. I believed I wasn’t worthy of better for years, and I resigned myself to the thought that “this is just what it will be, because this is the hand life dealt me.” I felt like everyone else had moved on, leaving me feeling stuck, alone, and lost, unsure where to go for help.
Now this is where post trauma is tricky and, in my opinion, can never be textbook defined. These ten years also hold some of my most treasured memories, because on some level, I was fine. My boyfriend at the time of my trauma is now my husband and father to our baby girl. While he walked through the darkest and most difficult moments, offering nothing but his unconditional love and support, he also reminds me of the magic that will always exist in the world and the future is worth building.
While I struggled through some relationships, I was able to recognize the relationships that did nurture and support me, and always would. The people who, despite my best attempts to keep them out, found the way in. The ones who knew not to push me when I couldn’t handle it, but could give their whole heart when I cried out for it. The ones who could see the pain, and offer something beautiful, offer a safe space to be and grow. The ones who could grow up with me, who could help me not just move past the scars, but embrace them for strength they’ve given me, and build a really beautiful future.
I’ve learned you can’t bury everything and pretend you’re fine. It all catches up to you eventually. The frustration, the loneliness, the unintended drama, the self doubt. I’ve learned to sit in my feelings, to acknowledge them, to let them be. Our strength comes in those feelings, and knowing how to harness them for growth. Our growth comes in learning our strengths, leaning on those intimate few that understand and can support you how and when you need it at any moment.
The truth of the matter is post trauma never ends, just as scars never go away. It fades, and then some days, it comes back full of feelings and sensations, other days are brighter and lighter because of the post trauma. Some days, I feel all of my worst feelings, spanning from isolation to self doubt, and other days, I feel more loved and supported, with no ceiling too high. For those that are ready and willing to see it, post trauma is the catalyst for beauty, for growth. Some days are dark, and some days are light.
I visit this topic time and time again; the world continues to throw us all curve balls that trigger us, scare us, and make us question the good in the world. I wake up some mornings, with a heavy heart; anxious about what is to come and what the future looks like for my daughter and the next generation.
Marianne Williamson said “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us.” It is darkness that lets us see our light, and constantly chase it. Our light is the beauty we bring to the world, but cannot relish without the darkness. My trauma has taught me to honor my darkness, because without it, without going through that trauma, I would never find the light, hope, and magic that is also within me, and that is undoubtedly being sparked in the next generation.
