Is Surviving A Testament Of Strength?

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

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

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!

That Was Then. This Is Now.

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

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.

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!