Tag: childhood trauma

Dear Beautiful Soul

A Girl In A Complex World

Dear Beautiful Soul,

I see you.
I see how much it hurts. The pain just keeps multiplying and spreading. And yes! How right you are in thinking that the saying “Time heals all wounds” is a big old dirty pile of poo-poo.

You’re right! No one understands. How could they?! It’s frustrating, I know, sweetheart. But it’s not their fault. Nobody else on God’s great earth has walked in your exact footsteps.

So no, they don’t understand the kind of pain that bends you over and brings you to your knees like you were punched in the gut … but 10x worse than that.
They don’t understand the kind of pain that hurts so much it’s wordless and that itself makes it hurt even more because you can’t say it out loud.

Beautiful Soul, I see you. I’ve heard every single time you’ve laughed and I’ve held you every time you’ve cried. How do you think you’ve made it this far?  

Repeat after me: I am going to be ok.

I know you feel safe in the bathroom so stand in front of that mirror. Say it –  again and again and again. That tear-stained face being reflected at you … tell her …

She’s going to be ok.

I am going to be ok.

I AM going to be ok!



Honey, I need you to hear me. LISTEN TO MY WORDS … ! I know it’s scary to trust what anyone says but you and I, we are the same! We are in this together. I am that little whisper you sometimes hear. You told Dr. Jeff about me. You told him that you wish you could hear from me more often and that I would be louder.

Well, here I am! I will become louder the moment you start to listen and trust that I, your true Self, want nothing but the best for you!
I’ve got you.

I know it’s been a horror beyond words. Betrayal doesn’t cover it. Neither does violation. Neither does grief or heartache. No word exists for this kind of thing.

Sometimes it splits you, opens you, and spreads you apart. You find yourself trying desperately to hold together the pieces that are left. It hurts, to not know who you could have been, had things been different.

Except, it wasn’t.

Its time to accept the person you’ve become, and stop trying to be a version of you that only exists in your imagination. Pay attention to the person staring back at you. Love her!

That girl came through a crucible of fire to be standing here today. That girl is a beautiful soul.

The Time Has Come

A Girl In A Complex World

… to finally admit to herself that the little girl living inside of her has been taking care of everyone else and always tiptoeing around everyone’s feelings, living in survival mode so she can make sure everyone’s heart is patched up.

But that’s not her job. At least it never should’ve been. She was just a child, her own heart in pieces.

How devastating it has been to realize that the world has been withholding a big secret from her – that she’s allowed to have needs.

So through streams of tears, she cleared her throat and said the hardest thing she’s ever had to say –

“Help.”

Invisible Quivers

A Girl In A Complex World

Like stones thrown into a lake, trauma creates ripples in the water that change not only its still, glassy surface but reverberate all the way through its flourishing ecosystems underneath. These microscopic quivers are often invisible, but present nonetheless—settling into the bones, minds, and memories of every survivor who’s known them.

When these ripples are born from multiple traumatic experiences, they can collide into chaos or build upon each other in strength – powerfully reshaping the ways a survivor sees themselves and the world around them. They can shift how one experiences their body, pain, touch, and even comfort; how they interpret and respond to danger, intense emotions, relationships, sensory input, and subtle reminders of that trauma; and how they’re seen by others. It can be difficult to disentangle the natural ebb and flow of the water’s currents from the ripples made from a downpour of stones.

Despite all the waves and wreckage, just as a lake remains beautiful, inviting, and a calm respite to all who wish to visit, survivors retain their beauty and resilience in spite of their trauma. Their healing isn’t about how quickly they can return to serene stillness after all that rocky hail, but in recognizing the unseen tremblings underneath, and finding ways to create harmony in concert with their movement. To those on the water’s edge, just as we respect nature’s quiet endurance, we should offer the same respect to those who’ve experienced trauma—tossing fewer stones and perhaps adding a few more reeds to ease a quivering shoreline.

💦💙🐟

(Author Unknown)

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.

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. ❤

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.