Tag: C-PTSD

Is Surviving A Testament Of Strength?

A Girl In A Complex World

I ventured outside today. Not because I wanted to though. The last thing I wanted to do was put a coat and boots on to go walk around in the snow. I went out because I needed to. I’ve barely moved from the couch in 3 days. This year is not off to a good start.



First, we had the first-ever earthquake here in Central Newfoundland. Very minor. But there has never been an earthquake here. Then we had a major 3-day storm. Our driveway was washed out and our roof had some damage. Thankfully it was minor. Then I ended up spending 9 hours in the ER, for dehydration.

Through all of that, I’ve been struggling just to keep breathing. CPTSD has been kicking my ass. Between the paralyzing panic attacks, nightmares, disordered eating (restricting, binging, purging), chronic pain, and insomnia every breath I take requires effort. Putting in effort takes energy, and energy is something I have very little of. Or maybe it’s just a lack of drive or willpower. Either way, I don’t have much of anything right now.



But today I managed to tap into something inside of me that gave me a little boost. I was wiping away tears as I was putting my boots on. The dogs were so excited to have mom play ball with them. They’ve really been feeling the effects of what I’m going through and that has created such a massive amount of guilt for me. I try and tell myself that I really am doing the best that I can right now but it feels so fake.

The fresh air was amazing though. The sound of the waves along the shore was incredibly comforting. I miss walking there with the dogs. Another reason I dislike winter so much. When I get cold it triggers my CRPS and sometimes I’m in pain for several days after. It’s frustrating. Especially when more than half of the year is cold here in Newfoundland. So outdoor activity is quite limited. It’s a big factor in the decline of my mental health once the fall months are upon us.

Today the cool air was welcomed. It wasn’t windy, which made it much more manageable. It was as if by breathing it in I was bringing back a little glimmer of life. It even energized me enough to later vacuum, sweep, and mop through the house.

It was discouraging though to find myself standing in the middle of the room, on 3 separate occasions, completely dissociated, and I had to check my phone to see what time it was. Everything has just been so surreal. Over the last year, 40 years of trauma decided to all come flooding back at once, at times leaving me completely incapacitated. It’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through. I’ve shed more tears these past few months than I have my entire life.

So yeah. It’s been tough. But I guess surviving all of this is a testament to my strength? Maybe. I dunno. But I do know that growth doesn’t always look like success. Sometimes growth involves holding on when everything just feels so damn heavy. At least for me, it does.

The old me would have given up long ago.

Be Gentle

A Girl In A Complex World

Another restless night, tossing and turning, yearning for relief from the pain that’s raging in both legs and head. The demon of pain strikes much harder when vulnerabilities are high.
Tired.
Emotionally drained.
Quesy from a day of unhealthy erratic eating.
Cold.

Be gentle …

The demon of self contempt emerges from the shadows, tempting me to engage in the game we so often play. He pounces on me. Stupid! Fat pig ... More derogatory comments about being fat and choosing a Dairy Queen ice cream over black coffee. WEAK.

My quivering voice whispers, “Be gentle …” in return.

Be gentle …

You precious soul. I see you. I feel your pain. Breathe through it. I am with you.

Demons become angry, cursing me for allowing the presence of gentleness. Get out, they growl. How dare you show up here NOW. You’re too late. The damage is done.

Grief comes out of the shadows. Too much has been lost, she weeps.

Anger bursts forth, with vengeance. DON’T you dare give in. Gentleness doesn’t belong here.

Be gentle …

Out of the shadow creeps memory. Thoughts of the nightmare start toppling over one another. My body shivers and shakes, building momentum by the second.

Be gentle …

Fire shoots at me from the demon of harm. New pain sears it’s way into the flesh of my upper thigh and I gasp, breath catching in my throat.

Be gentle…

You darling child. I see how much it hurts. Here, hold my hand. Give me that flaming dagger. Let it go.

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” (Psalm 23)

Heavenly Father sits beside me on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and together we watch the demons fade into the darkness at the sound of His voice.

Be gentle.

Hope Strengthens, Fear Kills

A Girl In A Complex World

Those words were shared in an email response that I received from my psychologist last week. It had been a difficult session and afterwards, I spiraled. I emailed her in the midst of my upset and her brief reply ended with those words – Hope strengthens, fear kills.

Yes. I am scared. Terrified – of my own brain. I have no control whatsoever of the way it reacts to things anymore. Its like I’m dealing with a completely separate entity. I’m going about my day as if im babysitting some overly dramatic child that can’t be left alone for 2 minutes or else it’s going to get into something it’s not supposed to.

I got up after a nightmare that night and spiraled into the danger zone. I remembered that Magda (psychologist)  had pointed out a couple of wins from the previous week (which I really appreciated) and she said that what I was doing was helping me grow my window of tolerance. In my frustration that night, I was like,  “F* my window of tolerance. I’m not doing this”. 

I want to be numb. I want to go back to the days when I was void of all emotion. I used to be so frozen inside but it’s like I’m thawing out now. I don’t want my thoughts to be so loud or sounds to be so clear. When my head was heavy and foggy and I barely even remembered conversations I didn’t have to deal with any of this stuff. My brain dissociated for a reason.

I feel like I’m going crazy. The fear is strangling me. Choking me. Killing me …

I’m afraid of what’s going to happen to me. So much fear, that I’m going to just snap, go totally crazy, lose my sanity entirely.

Fear. Its trying to kill me. The fear of uncertainty. Not knowing from one minute to the next what I’m going to think or feel. The fear that I’m not strong enough … that I might find myself completely alone and have to navigate it all by myself – again … that I’m going to collapse under all the pressure … fear that I’m going to start but never be able to stop crying …

Fear kills.

*Video clip of me in the midst of a panic attack*

BUT ….

she also said that hope strengthens. Hope. I need strength. I need hope. I’m not going to find either if I just wait around for it to fall into my lap though. So I must make it my daily goal to seek out hope. I know it exists in more than just the ink on my wrist. I see it around me. I see that other ppl have it. Its just that it never feels like there’s any for me.

If you want something in this world you have to go after it right? Well, I want to be strong. I want hope to fill me and strengthen me.

And dammit, I deserve it!

God? I’m Scared.

A Girl In A Complex World

Me: God, I’m scared. I’m trying so hard not to be, but I am.

God: I know, my child. Do you want to talk about it?

Me: No, not really. Besides, you already know everything. Talking isn’t going to change it.

God: Let’s talk about it anyway. We’ve done this before.

Me: I know. I’m just so tired. I should be stronger than this. I can’t seem to get anything right.

God: *waiting patiently, never annoyed.*

Me: I’m just so tired. I’m never going to figure out how to live and manage all this. Its too much. I’m scared that I’m going to crack under all this pressure. My heart has never felt so broken before. I’m afraid that my attempts to recover are actually going to be what kills me. I’m afraid that I’m not strong enough to cope with it all. I’m afraid of the things I’m having to process in therapy. I’ve spent years acting as if my nightmares are just that – things in my imagination. I have tried so hard to make it all go away. Its what my whole life has revolved around. But all that energy put into avoiding has been for nothing because here I am, having to stare it straight in the face.

God: Anything else?

Me: EVERYTHING ELSE.

God: Remember the other day when the smoke alarm was beeping in the kitchen and Buddy came running across the house?

Me: Yes.

God: When you heard him running, you started calling out to him before he even got to you … remember? Do you remember what you called out to him?

Me: I said, “You’re okay! You’re okay! Mommy’s right here.”

God: Why did you call out to him? Why didn’t you just wait until he got to you?

Me: Because I wanted him to know that I was here, and I heard him, and he didn’t have to be afraid because I was right here.

God: Exactly. I hear you, my child. I hear your thoughts racing like Buddy’s little puppy feet down the hallway. There’s another side to all of this and I’m already there. I’ve seen the end of it. And I want you to know that as you walk through all of this, you’re going to be okay. I haven’t turned my back on you. I’m right here. I always was and I always will be.

Me: *crying* Can you just wait here with me for a while until I calm down? Can you hold me and cover me in your peace before I go back to facing it all again?

God: There’s nothing I’d love more. ❤

How I Ended Up In The Psyc Ward

A Girl In A Complex World

It all started when I went for my regular Ketamine infusion, which is part of my treatment for Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.

Felicia, the head nurse, asked if I was doing ok. She said I wasn’t looking like myself and that I was pale. I said I was good and that was all that was said. 



I remember lying back on the stretcher while they prepped me, putting heart monitoring stickers on my chest, attaching a BP cuff to my arm, oxygen in my nose … I was shivering and could feel tears running down from the corners of my eyes but i had no emotions. It was strange because that doesn’t usually happen. They took my hand to start an IV and I heard a faint voice in my head whispering – don’t touch me.

I remember turning my head to the side and just letting myself drift away. Don’t have any more memories about the treatment than that.

Once the infusion was done they wanted to talk to David. Felicia asked him how I’ve been doing lately. David later told me that he told her I’ve been purging a lot, that I’ve been quite depressed and that he’s been worried. Apparently she told him that I’m not looking well. That I was pale, my eyes were dark, and my lips were almost grey.

I was awake, my eyes were open, but I was non-responsive. My neck and head were spasming and I was staring off with no reaction when someone spoke or touched me. So they decided to keep me an extra hour to give me more fluids and more time to let the meds wear off. David asked if they felt I had taken anything and she said no because my vitals were all good. But they did bloodwork just to be sure. 

An hour later Felicia called David back in and told him that he needs to take me to the ER. Apparently I had been mumbling some things that no one could really pick out but Felicia had heard me say something about this being the end and it was almost time to die …. I don’t remember any of that. I’m just telling what I was told. 

So they put me in a wheelchair and David registered me in the ER, where I sat/slumped for 9 hours. David said I kept falling to the side as if I couldn’t hold myself up. He had to ask for a pillow and blanket to put around me to secure me a bit. He said I was in a completely different world.

Then they called us in to a small room that had nothing but 2 chairs bolted to the floor. And that’s where I spent the next 26 hours. It was nothing short of brutal.

Tears are burning my eyes now as I write that. I think it’s cruel how this was handled. They took me from the OR after having a procedure done and forced me to sit up on hard seats for a total of 36 hours. I was hallucinating. I was in terrible pain and developed a migraine. Had multiple bouts of vomiting. And I started experiencing opiate withdrawal because after I took my meds Thursday morning, I wasn’t given anything until Friday night. By that time I had missed 6 doses of morphine. It was torture.

David had to leave at one point. We had taken our dogs with us that morning. So David spent the entire day going from me in the hospital to the dogs in the car. He’d switch every hour. Take them for a walk, a drink, get them a snack then settle them in the car again before coming back in with me. But they couldn’t do that all night. So around 10pm he spoke to the staff. They assured him that I would be in safe hands and would be looked after so he left to go home with the dogs. Just before he left, he brought me in Zoey’s blanket from the car because he’d been asking for a blanket for me for 2 hrs with no luck. So I just kinda dozed off, sitting up in the chair, with Zoey’s blanket over me.

At one point I started to be more alert and I was really confused. I needed to use the bathroom but there wasn’t one so I left the room and just wandered around a bit. I went to the nurse’s station and asked if there was a bathroom and he said down the hall on the right. I roamed the hospital for a while. Took the elevator a few times, and eventually made my way back to that room. I called David, upset, wanting to know what was going on. When he realized that I was still there in that room – alone, he drove back to Grand Falls again at 4am. In the meantime, while hyperventilating and being trapped in that space with the chairs bolted to the floor, I clawed/scratched/cut my neck. 

David came, and he channeled his anger into fighting for me. He took me outside for some air then went and found a vending machine and got me a sandwich and water. I hadn’t had anything since 7am the previous day. Thankfully there was one nurse there on Friday that had a bit of respect and showed some compassion. She even gave me a little bit of her on personal toothpaste so I could brush my teeth. No one gave me a breakfast tray but she made sure there was one for me by lunch time. And she also contacted the necessary ppl to get my meds ordered. 

Then my psychiatrist came. It was still another long painful day sitting in that chair but by Friday evening I was admitted to the psyc unit.



And I’m still here. I am much more stable than I was over 2 weeks ago but still have a ways to go. Have no idea what is going to come out of this.

What Does Safety FEEL Like?

A Girl In A Complex World

I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of safety. It came up in a therapy session a few weeks ago and I’ve come to realize that I don’t know how to recognize what safety ‘feels’ like.

I know that I’m almost always on guard. I don’t know if it’s fear, anxiety, or nervousness, or what it is, that I’m usually feeling but I certainly don’t think it’s safety. It also seems like there are lots of situations where I FEEL like I’m in danger but the facts state otherwise. How does one bridge the gap between real and perceived danger? I am not living in a dangerous environment by any means but it’s like my body thinks I am.

It’s incredibly uncomfortable to be in a state of hyperarousal most of the time. And exhausting. Lately, it seems like I’ve been having an overwhelming amount of trauma surfacing, especially on a somatic level, but I have very little capacity to create any sense of safety in the midst of it. It’s wreaking havoc on so many levels. I wish there any way that I could somehow learn how to feel safe. 

I feel so stupid saying that. To admit that I don’t know what ‘safe’ feels like seems so ridiculous and it feels awful.

My Spirit Is Temporarily Heavy

A Girl In A Complex World

My head feels unnaturally heavy. It takes effort to just hold my head up straight. Letting it rest against the back of my chair while I rock brings relief. I feel like I’m stuck inside a cloud of thick fog. Going to different rooms in my house, walking on the beach, out in my garden, even to the shower, it follows me.

Things sound different. Far away. I often need David to repeat himself because I didn’t hear what he said. Music doesn’t sound right unless I’m wearing my earbuds, which I’ve been doing a lot of. Having the loud music playing directly in my ears helps drown out the constant dialog.

The level of pain in my body this evening cannot be described. I just don’t have the words. I feel as if all I can do is sit here and  keep reminding myself to breathe.

This too shall pass.

🦋

Adventures With Ketamine

A Girl In A Complex World

I had my Ketamine infusion on Thursday This time was harder than the others have been over the past few months. Maybe because I was dehydrated …? I don’t know. But … I honestly did not think I was that dehydrated though. It never even crossed my mind when I went in there. I could tell that one of the regular nurses started to get frustrated. She said my veins were even smaller than they usually are. It took her quite a while to locate one that she would even attempt to put an iv into. She started sweating and I felt soooo bad. I wish I could have just pointed to a spot anywhere on my body and said, there’s a vein! But there were literally no visible veins to be found.

So then came the manual search. She was gentle, like she usually is, but even just running a finger over my skin and some light tapping hurt. I felt as if I was covered in bruises. Except I wasn’t. I was just cold. After her 3rd failed attempt she called over another nurse who started with my hand, then worked her way up my arm, poking and patting and rubbing to try and get a vein to swell up enough for an iv needle to thread into. She said something about my arm being cold and commented on the fact that I appeared to be quite dehydrated. Something about the elasticity of my skin. I can’t remember exactly what it was that she said.

By this point the shivering had started. The first nurse took my socks off and started rubbing the top of my foot while the other one made several attempts at what she thought were strong veins. I had been fighting with every bit of strength I had to hold back tears but after another failed attempt at yet another promising vein – in my foot this time – a sob came out of my mouth. It actually took me off guard because I was not expecting it. I thought that the imaginary valve in the back of my throat was secure in the closed-off position but the force behind that sob blew right through it.

Somewhere along the line a 3rd nurse had come over and was rubbing my other foot. I didn’t remember her coming. It’s like she just appeared. She rubbed my leg and said, I’m only going to try once and if I don’t get it we’ll have to call Jackie. Jackie is one of the anaesthesiologists in the hospital and has been called on more than one occasion to come and place an iv in me. She’s never had to poke me more than 2 times and more often than not she got it in on the first try.

So that’s what happened. They called Jackie. In the meantime the nurses tidied up around my bed and got me a clean, warm blanket. They had used the other one to catch blood that had ran down my arm. They said they were going to give me a little break and then left me alone for a few minutes. I turned over on my side and held the blanket against my mouth and nose. I didn’t want anyone to hear me cry.

I stared at the curtain and just started praying. God, I can’t handle this … It’s too much. It hurts … it hurts all over. It doesn’t usually hurt this much. I don’t want them to touch me anymore. God, please … this is torture … I can’t …….... I know you’re here. You’re always with me. You tell me you’ll never leave me and I can come to you anytime. Well, I’m here and I really need you to be here too right now. God, please … make it stop ...

Jackie pulled up a chair and sat at the foot of my bed after a brief look over my arm and not finding anything of interest. She started rubbing my foot with her hands, to try and warm them up, she said. She told me to try and relax and to take a few deep breaths. With that little bit of compassion from her, I felt a fresh stream of tears run down from the corners of my eyes. She told me that if I take a few deep breaths it will help the blood to flow better through my veins and that my blood needs oxygen to flow properly.

Every time I tried to inhale my breath kept catching in my throat, which in turn led to a small gasp to get it back. It took several attempts before I got a good breath in but it really helped. I had started to feel like I was floating away. After a few good breaths I started to feel the bed beneath me again and I could feel Jackie patting the top of my foot. She spoke and told me to, stay really still now. I instantly lost my breath again. I felt the needle pierce the top of my foot and she slowly went deeper. I heard the click of the release button, indicating the iv was threaded into the vein and could be released from the needle. It’s in, she said. You need to breathe ….

And that’s all I remember. That was around 11am on Thursday. The next clear moment was when I felt Zoey’s wet nose against my arm around 9am Friday morning. Ketamine has that effect on me. It tends to wipe my memory clean of almost everything for 12 – 24 hours following the infusion.

My head felt like it had been smashed against a wall when I lifted it off my pillow this morning. I did a quick body scan to see if there was pain anywhere else. Nope. All clear! The first 24 – 48 hours after my Ketamine infusions are the closest I get to being ‘pain-free’. Today offered little space to appreciate the low pain level though. It was a freaking emotional roller-coaster inside of me today. Tears began shortly after I got up. I was washing my face and noticed that one of my earrings had fallen out at some point. This big wave of sadness just swept right over me and tears started falling. Wasn’t expecting that!

A little while later I was laying back on the couch and David was sitting on the opposite end. We were watching an episode of Station 19 on TV together and there was an intimate scene between a husband and wife. More tears … and no words to explain.

And that’s how the day has been. Little random things causing waves of tears. I was outside planting some things my therapist gave me, and tears were flowing. I accidentally bumped my leg, more tears. David called out and asked me to come outside so he could show me something and I cried while I walked out across the garden. Then just before I got in the shower I sat on the bench in the bathroom and cried even more. Like seriously. There was no end to the tears. And it all felt like it came from a gut-wrenching sadness that had tremendous force behind it. It could not, would not, be stifled.

The day is over now. It is late, or early, depending on how you see 3am. I’m reluctant to go to bed, as I sometimes find being in a horizontal position also heightens my emotions. And I’m feeling pretty raw as it is. But we are going out of town tomorrow, for the night. On Sunday our God-daughter has her very first communion and we’d like to be there with her. My face is swollen. My eyes are bloodshot and puffy. And my mood is all over the place. But the very least I can do is attempt to get a few hours of rest. Even if that means just lying still, with my eyes closed, while my brain continues trailing off.

Stillness is not effortless for me. It takes work sometimes. Wellness takes effort and I’m trying my best to do what I have to do, even when I don’t want to. Do what you have to do to make it to see one more sunrise. 🌻

Sunrise from my back patio

o○o ..。o○○o  🦋  o○○o ..。o○o

That Was Then. This Is Now.

A Girl In A Complex World

I sweep the shower curtain aside. A few water droplets fall from my hair before gliding down over my bare chest. My skin is bright red from the hot water. Steam rolls out through the window that was slightly ajar. It’s been a busy weekend, but it’s over now and we’re back home again.

It’s mid afternoon and David is in lying down, trying to catch a nap before he heads in to work tonight. Last night was a late one for us. Being the designated driver David spent the early hours of the morning taking ppl home. It was almost 4am when our heads finally touched the pillow. 5 hours later we were back in the car again. Thank God we are home. So while he rests, with the dogs curled up beside him, I go off to shower and calm myself down. In my own shower. In my own bathroom. In my own house. Safety.

The scalding water distracted me from the thoughts that had been swirling around in my mind. The tension that was trapped in my body that had been brought on by so much overstimulation, washed off me freely, mixed with the coconut body wash.

But the second I stepped out and my foot touched the towel that was on the floor, something didn’t feel right. The hair rose on the back of my neck. Goosebumps covered my arm and legs. The frantic beating of my heart became confused with memories of someone pounding on the door. Oh my god … there was someone else in the house.

Fear wound itself around me at the thought and circulated within my mind until it flooded my entire body with panic. I pulled the bath towel tighter around me in a lame attempt to suffocate the terror. Then, I reached for the doorknob and my hand lingered there. I couldn’t turn the knob, my mind was bombarded with images of who could be waiting for me on the other side of the door.

I pulled my hand away from the door, my lungs …too paralyzed to breathe. My shoulders trembled as I held back the cry that was threatening to escape from my throat. I forced my hand over my mouth to block it. Backing up, I felt the bench on the back of my legs and I let myself fall onto the seat. What the heck is wrong with me??!

I reached for my phone on the sink next to me. Placing my thumb on the screen it recognized my fingerprint and unlocked itself. I instantly searched for David’s name and opened up a new msg window. I knew he was asleep but assumed the sound of his phone receiving a new msg would stir him. ‘Are you awake?’

I stared at the screen, silently pleading for him to pick up his phone, a feeling of something dreadful happening consumed me. No response. I msged him again. ‘I’m really sorry for bothering you. I know you’re tired, my honey. But can you get up for a minute?’

Still no response. I thought of calling instead. The ring is louder than the new msg notifications. But that would mean I would also be required to speak. I couldn’t do that. My voice was currently non-existent.

A sob got stuck in my throat and my body trembled. I felt the sting of tears on my cheeks. Panic was pulsing through my veins. I thought to myself, “This is insane. There is nothing out there. There is no one out there! This is ridiculous. Why am I so scared??” I remembered that I needed to breathe. I have a tendency to hold my breath in moments like this and have been working on becoming more aware of it. I take in a small, shakey breath through my nose. “That was then … this is now. That was then … This is now.“

I repeated the familiar words to myself several times. I stood up from the bench I had been sitting on, and reached for the doorknob again. As my fingers touched it panic surged, threatening to drown out the mantra i had just been repeating to myself.  That was then … this is now. Slowly I turned the knob and opened it ever so slightly. My chest burned from needing to exhale, but the grip of terror was strangling my throat.

I paused, waiting for that looming, dark figure to inch his way into the bathroom … but he didn’t. And suddenly I realized that it had happened again. My brain had forgotten where we were.

It’s 2024 … you’re in your own house … David is here … he’s asleep … you’re here in your own bathroom …

I turned on the tap and splashed cold water on my face. My lungs began to relax and I took a few shakey breaths. I grabbed my robe and pulled it close around my body, letting the towel fall to the floor. Feeling ashamed and broken I left the bathroom and went to our room. I quietly positioned myself on the bed next to David, sound asleep. A few silent tears fell before I cuddled in closer to his back. The warmth of his body against mine reminded me once again …

That was then. This is now.

When Panic Attacks

A Girl In A Complex World

The family has gone to the rec center to decorate for the birthday party tonight. I opted to stay home with the dogs. They’re here beside me, soaking up all the different sounds and smells.

In-law’s backyard

Chronic pain is wreaking havoc on my body today. Despite being fully recovered from being crushed in a car crash in 2010, my left leg throbs with pain. From the base of my skull to lowest part of my back, burning, lava like sensations flow in all directions. It too has recovered, from the same crash, having been broken in 5 places. It once rendered me immobile but I proved medicine wrong and within a year I was walking again. But the cell memory remains intact and sometimes pain pulls me under. Especially in times of high stress. And today is one of those days. But I know that this too shall pass.

Having accepted that I can’t do and be like everyone else today, I’ve resolved to breathe and be gentle to self as much as possible. After everyone had left though, anxiety wrapped it’s ugly hands around my throat and with one quick gasp I began to hyperventilate.

My body trembled … sounds faded away as a high-pitched ringing appeared in my right ear. The intense pounding of my heart was making it almost impossible for air to reach my lungs. The pounding echoed through my skull. An overwhelming sense of terror seeped into every pore on my body, causing my limbs to go stiff with fear. I couldn’t breathe … I was being smothered. Where am I? This is not my house. I am not safe here … I HAVE TO GET OUT!

Frozen with fear

Suddenly, I didn’t know where I was. I heard something being whispered inside my head … he’s here. I felt my body begin to tingle, sending a shiver right through my very core. I had a sudden urge to rip at my skin with my fingernails.

I was losing it. My connection to reality was slipping away and I was drifting into another time and place. I was back in an experience that I didn’t want to remember. In someone else’s house. Under someone’s watch. Being stared at …

Mixed Reality

My current surroundings are unfamiliar and therefore intimidating and I think it triggered an emotional flashback. Being alone in this house gives me a very unsettling feeling and I felt like I was being watched. That feeling of someone staring reminded me of something else. And the thing about a traumatized brain is that it can’t tell time. Feeling this way today brought forth a memory of a previous time when I was being watched. It was not a pleasant memory and my body reacted as if this was that same time.

With both dogs at my feet, both recognizing the shift in my energy, we stepped outside where the cool air worked it’s way into my lungs. The change in temperature and lighting brought me back to now. 2024. My in-law’s house. It’s a safe house. This backyard is safe. Zoey and Buddy are just a few feet away. Look at them. It’s 2024. Its just the 3 of us. You’re OK …

The birds are chirping. I pick out at least 3 different songs being sung. Several little ones fly up from the ground at the sound of my footsteps and into a nearby evergreen, causing its current inhabitants to flutter off to the next tree. I scan the whole yard for potential areas of danger and once I felt relatively confident it was ok, I looked down at Zoey and Buddy and told them it was ok to go play. Off they ran, overjoyed with canine pleasure.

Buddy and Zoey

I wandered around the backyard, first focusing on the ground directly in front of my feet,as I needed the visual proof of what was around me. The sound of one of my dogs nearby, sniffing something of interest, reminded me of their presence. This caused a slight wave of relief to roll over my chest.

Last Year’s Leaf

I looked around at the trees and took note of a couple of dead leaves scraping along the ground in the wind. There was a fairly steady flow of traffic on the road out in front on the house so instead I headed further into the back of the property. I wanted to avoid the street to keep the dogs away from traffic, but I also wanted to avoid the stares from passersby, strangers to me, curious to see this outsider who was here in their town this weekend.

Zoey and Buddy, Bay Roberts, NL

I maintained the general route the dogs were taking, zigzaging all around yard with them until the shivering from cold was too much for my burning back to endure. I had accidentally left my jacket at home, tossed over the back of a chair … 5 hours away. Still not wanting to go inside I went in and added another hoodie to my current outfit then took my mother in-law’s red blanket from the couch. Now here I am, in the backyard, attempting to soothe my body as much as possible.

These attacks are draining.

Buddy
Buddy
Zoey

I need to get ready for this evening. Attending this 60th birthday celebration is far outside of my comfort zone. But I feel obligated to be there. We don’t make it to see David’s family more than a few times a year and his family is very important to him. I would never stand in the way of that. Having had such an episode (I honestly don’t know what else to call it. Breakdown, maybe? Meltdown? Crash?) take place recently, David didn’t want to leave town without me. So I agreed to make the trip to his hometown for his mom’s birthday.

First I need to make space to breathe in some calm and exhale the overwhelm, as I sit here in the beautiful outdoors.

I am resilient.

Anxiety will not ruin my day.

I will be ok.

I got this!

Life Has Been Unraveling

A Girl In A Complex World

My mental health has been on a steady decline for a couple of months now. There’s been a lot that’s happened, in succession, and the stress of it all has been accumulating. Trying to manage both physical and mental illnesses why all this life stuff has been coming at me was too much and I crashed. As a result, every area of my life is now suffering.

A little over 2 weeks ago something inside of me just cracked and I attempted to end my life. In a moment of desperation, needing the mental anguish to just stop, I chose what I thought would be the solution.

After spending the past 2 weeks in the hospital, in the Intensive Care Unit, here I am sitting in the car with my husband, as we travel to his parents’ place for a 60th birthday celebration (tomorrow). I was discharged yesterday, after being cleared as well enough to leave. I feel a million miles away right now. Certainly not in the frame of mind for a party. I really don’t want to be around people.

Can I just say one more thing?

Our health care system here in Newfoundland, Canada is … I’m biting my tongue here because every word coming to mind could get me banned from WordPress … so I’m just going to say … it SUCKS.

It’s sad. Based on my own experiences my heart aches for those needing services. If it happened to me then I’m sure it’s happening to countless others. 

In my opinion, if someone almost successfully takes their life and then sits in front of you and says they are not able to function because they are so mentally unwell, I don’t this it’s even sensible to suggest they develop a better sleep routine and that you’ll chat with them in 6 to 8 weeks.

Dude, if you ony knew the half of it ……

Warrior In The Making

A Girl In A Complex World

You are a warrior!

You’re not crazy. It has all been real, and it stretched you, and at times, it has felt as if it would even kill you.
Their words broke your heart.
Their actions broke your trust.
That injury broke your body.
That illness broke your hope.
That circumstance broke your spirit.
BUT GOD…
He came to overcome it all.
And guess what?
It never broke you!
It challenged you, and it LOST!

You’re still here. You’re not “just” a survivor. You’re a fighter. You’re a warrior. And yes, you may be covered in scars, but they are scars of deaths defeat! Your scars have become a memoir of your  journey, and they tell ONLY a story of triumph!

You see, they don’t see you the same way anymore, because a warrior was birthed from the destruction and fires in your life! What was meant to kill you, didn’t and while some keep judging you for starting over, others are clapping because you never quit! You went into the flames covered in life’s grit, but came out of the fire polished in Gods grace!

The abuse, the pain, the anxiety, the bullying, the fear, the anguish, the doubt, the worry, the crushing, the pulling, the words, the moments, the days and the years – were real, but so was your strength and resilience. You did it. You survived everything they said you wouldn’t! You are still standing, and you are a WARRIOR!

Say Goodbye To The Robot

A Girl In A Complex World

Dear Robot Self: You have permission to be human!

That means you get to make mistakes, to learn, to grow, to make more mistakes, and learn from those too! This is how you gain wisdom!

I’ve been thinking about why some ppl change throughout their lives while others remain stuck. Why can 2 ppl both be in therapy for years and one grows, matures and heals while the other one spends their life stuck in their story?

I’ve been reading some studies on this very topic and they say that those of us who stay stuck stay in our heads, and we can re-traumatize ourselves by telling the same story over and over again. This keeps us surrounded by our shame. Not one person has ever healed through shame. This is so incredibly true for myself! I keep over intellectualizing my pain and trauma. I’ve been in therapy FOR YEARS and have learned so many facts about trauma. I’ve picked apart countless things that have happened to me. While this has made me much more aware of why things are the way they are in my life, it hasn’t helped me fix it.

My problem is that I’ve never allowed myself to feel the pain in my body. It has remained trapped, rolling around in my head. I can talk about things and stay just dissociated enough, to be able to think about it without feeling it. I can write in brutal detail about traumatic moments of my life but have no emotion. I can also accurately describe something in nature, beautiful scenes and breathtaking sunsets but I struggle to feel it in my body.

My journey towards coming into my body has been brutally slow and frustrating, often feeling as if I’m moving backwards. Baby steps, they say. Small steps, one at a time, letting things trickle as opposed to flooding, is easier for my nervous system to maintain. Emotions are hard for me, and even the positive ones require small doses. It gets overwhelming quite quickly and then I shut down. But I do believe I am able to do this, step by step. Seeing further than the very next moment isn’t easy without becoming overwhelmed, but the next moment is the only thing I need to worry about right now.

I’m not giving up. I deserve to feel in awe at the morning sunrise and joy when I hold a friend’s baby. It’s also OK for me to feel angry when I see someone bullying another person and to feel sad if someone hurts my feelings. It’s all part of being human.

And I’m giving myself permission to be human! I don’t want to be a cold, mechanical robot anymore!

Major Anxiety

A Girl In A Complex World

A lot has happened over the past week. My uncle passed away which meant I had to go back to my hometown, which happens to be at the top of my list of least favorite places on earth.

The 2 days I was there have stirred up a lot of unwanted crap, bringing on a stream of anxiety. I’m drowning in waves of it. Just when I get myself back to baseline, my body stops trembling and I allow myself to take a breath, the air gets stuck in my throat and I start gasping again.

Too much. It’s too much.

Yearning For Safety

A Girl In A Complex World

Oh, how I wish self compassion wasn’t so hard for me. It’s like my brain purposely goes against it. It doesn’t come natural. There’s a part of me that tends to speak in a compassionate way yet she gets knocked down repeatedly. Kind words spoken to self makes the demon mad.

When things are quiet in my mind and I sense safety in my body my thoughts are more productive, kinder towards myself, hopeful, truthful, encouraging,  calming … they’re healthy. But more often than not my system is fired up. I yearn to feel safety but it’s a very rare thing for me.

I try and make the best of what I have. But the slightest little thing pushes me into high alert and my system begins firing threat signals. A sound, a smell, a cell phone notification, a car door, a movement, a bodily sensation … these things all crush my sense of safety and my body takes over. My heart rate shoots up, trembling overwhelms my body, sleeplessness haunts me at night and exhaustion plagues me by day.

I want solitude. I want healing. But it’s so far out of reach that it’s a waste of time to even try.

Yet … that still, small voice whispers, hold on. 

Awareness Isn’t Enough

A Girl In A Complex World

One of the pitfalls of healing childhood trauma, in my opinion, is awareness.

Let me explain.

When you are at a point in your life where your history of trauma is affecting you on a daily basis you decide to enter some sort of journey towards healing. This may take on many different forms. It may involve finding a trauma specialist and entering some hard core trauma therapy. You may start seeing a therapist for some general therapy to help you figure things out. Or maybe you dive into it from a self help perspective. Whatever you choose, you just know that your past trauma is wreaking havoc on your present life.

So you’re on a new journey. You have information at your fingertips. So you do a deep dive into whatever you can get your hands on. If it relates to trauma then you are interested. Maybe you will find the very thing that will fix all your problems.  So you read websites and books and articles. You watch YouTube videos and listen to podcasts. You want all the information that you can find. 

In your search for answers you have several breakthrough moments where you realize why things are the way they are in your own life. You learn things. You fill your mind with all kinds of professional jargon. You read all about trauma recovery and the various steps it involves.

Ta da! You’re all fixed! You know all there is to know. You’ve taught yourself all about it. You’ve had your ah-ha moments and you have it all figured out!

There’s the pitfall. You consider your new knowledge and awareness to be exactly what you needed. Sound anything like you?

Yeah, me too.

Unfortunately awareness doesn’t change anything about your actual situation. You may now know why things are the way they are. You may understand more about your diagnosis of cPTSD. You may even think you don’t need therapy after all. You’ve figured it out!

Except, your life continues to unravel and you feel more lost now than you ever were before. Its because you’ve mistakenly thought that awareness was the answer. I did too.

Healing requires so much more than education and awareness. It requires action. Change.

A Girl In A Complex World

What have you been putting off doing? Why?

EVERYTHING!!

Dishes … laundry … returning a call to my mom, who has been calling for 2 days but I don’t have the strength to pick up the phone and utter the word ‘hello’.

I’ve been putting off hanging a pile of shirts in our closet, but hey, at least it’s all clean..

I’ve been putting off some photo editing as well. I have a little over 120 pictures needing to be uploaded to my laptop, and sorted then edited but I haven’t been able to get in a clear frame of mind to even be able to think about it.

I’ve also been putting off something else… asking for help, telling somebody … because I anticipate that things will get a lot worse if I do. Depression has flooded every part of me, both physically and mentally. I have very little control over what enters my mind. From terrifying images that flash without warning to lines from songs that get stuck on repeat, over and over and over to absolute silence.

A couple of ppl know I’m not well but they aren’t in any position to help. My psychiatrist is out of the country until the new year. I have no more options. Unless … I go to my family doctor. Tell her how severe my insomnia has become. But I’ve been putting it off because …

I’m scared. I’m scared of having to answer any questions she may have because I really don’t want to talk about the fear, the dreams, the feelings, the memories …….

Do You Have An Anchor In Your Toolbox?

A Girl In A Complex World

Sometimes I need to be reminded of things that are outside of this particular moment. I get so caught up in what I’m feeling right now or I get stuck in a memory loop, where I have one specific flashback that plays repeatedly, consuming me … I forget that I have an entire life outside of this place where I’m stuck. That’s where I have been discovering that any type of visual reminder, of a positive moment, helps me to become grounded. I have added a few videos and pictures to a folder on my phone and I’ve been sitting here in my bathroom, watching the videos on repeat.

This one shows a moment from this summer that has stayed with me very vividly. The way I felt in that moment was something I became very mindful of so I’m guessing that’s why I can feel it to be so real. I had been walking the beach near my house and my 2 dogs were with me. We’d had 2 days of rain so they were super happy to be outside and get to run around. When I stopped I took in all of my surroundings and I felt such an incredible warm feeling run through the center of my chest. Everything in that moment bordered on perfection. The direction of the sun, the temperature, the light breeze in my hair, the warmth from the sun shining down on my face, my dogs barking after each other as they zoom past me to chase each other through the salt water …

There are always things that you can cling to in moments of difficulty that can serve as an anchor. You might have one specific thing or many different ones. Whatever the case might be, use them. If you have to watch a 17 second video 29 times in a row to get the trembling in your bones to stop, then do it. You so deserve to be reminded of these moments of joy when the weight of depression is trying to crush you.

Having achors to keep you grounded is a great tool to have in your toolbox. One of my go-to skills.

Just sayin’.

I’m (not) OK

A Girl In A Complex World

This song hit me like a ton of bricks last night. See, I have this thing about always saying I’m ok. If I was on the floor, crying, and bleeding I would still look up at you and tell you that I’m ok. It seems like those are the only 2 words that exist in my vocabulary sometimes.

So last night I was in a pretty dark mood and instead of seeking out positive things to draw out a lighter mood, I was like … screw this DBT stuff. I was angry but no idea why. And the sadness was so heavy that it was almost tangible. I opened up youtube and just started going from one song to another and then this one started playing.

It amazes me how music can so accurately speak for me when the words aren’t there. At the beginning of every session my therapist asks me how I am doing and my automatic response is … I’m okay. Every. Single. Time. Because I don’t have the words to accurately answer her question. To be honest, I don’t think I know how to be anything other than ‘okay’.

So for now, I’ll let the lyrics of this song say it for me. And while it plays quietly in my ear I’ll just keep smiling and telling you … I’m okay.

Tonight the monsters in my head
Are screaming so damn loud
But I built walls so high
So they never even make a sound

It’s a mask, it’s a lie
It’s the only home I’ve ever known
‘Cause being who I really am
Has only left me more alone

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
The reason I keep quiet
With so much at stake
I always feel like a burden, let it silence me
You’ll never understand
Why it’s so hard to say
I’m not okay

I wish I had a scar
Had a bruise on the surface, any kind of proof
That everything I feel is more than just some sad excuse

My life’s invisible abuse
I’m either judged or have to hide
The only symptom you can see
Is I don’t wanna be alive,

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
The reason I keep quiet
With so much at stake
I always feel like a burden, let it silence me
You’ll never understand
Why it’s so hard to say

I’ll never have the words, I can’t explain this hell
But what if it kills me
If I keep it to myself?
To myself

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
I am not okay
I am not okay
I’m never safe
It’s not a phase
If I finally break
Would you still stay?