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.
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.
I don’t have the vocabulary to be able to adequately describe what I am feeling right now. There are simply no words that could do justice in explaining what’s in my heart.
Today was a good day. They’ve been few and far between lately but today the positives just seemed to accumulate, and for that, I am ever so grateful.
Now tonight … it’s hard to even breathe because I am just so overwhelmed. I love nature. I love being outdoors. I live with salt water mere feet from my doorstep. And I love summer nights. Lately, though, I have been so full of darkness that there has been little room for much else. My craving for peace and calm has been so intense that it has morphed into a physical ache.
Tonight as the day came to an end, I felt myself being quickly swallowed up by the darkness once again. I went out and sat on the back patio, to take in a few moments of fresh air before calling it a night, and the sky was incredible. I turned off all the outdoor lights on the house and positioned my chair to get the best view. I sat back and was simply in awe.
The stars were brighter than I ever recall seeing them before. Not a cloud in the sky, just hundreds and thousands of tiny sparkling lights. The longer I sat there on my patio in the dark, the more overwhelmed I felt. Sheer gratitude to be able to sit and see such beauty, with the sound of the light waves on the beach in the background. To be living and breathing and seeing and hearing is a blessing I am so often guilty of taking for granted.
I thanked God, for reminding me that no matter how dark things may appear, there’s always something beautiful waiting for me to experience. I am 42 years old and in my entire life, I’ve just seen one single shooting star. But tonight, in 2 hours, I witnessed 11 of them. ELEVEN!!!! It was like watching a screensaver on a computer screen.
I feel renewed. I feel refreshed. I feel … hopeful. My cries of desperation seemed to fall on deaf ears lately but I’m now reminded that things are not always as they seem. I believe I was given the opportunity to have this experience tonight so I could be reminded that God never turns a deaf ear to me. Not one tear that has fallen from my eyes has gone unnoticed. And that even though my mind has been full of so much darkness lately …
I had such a lovely day on Thursday and I slept a solid 6 hours, in bed, the night before. It has been ages since that has happened! I’ve been feeling bad about having such a limited supply of energy lately and not having the motivation to go out and do things. As a wife and a dog mom, as a human in general, I have been failing miserably. I haven’t been able to engage much because the majority of my mental energy is being spent on keeping myself alive.
So I reached out to my Aunt, who lives on the other side of the bay, and asked if they were going to be home and if it would be OK for us to go over to take the dogs out swimming. The beach has been gross here lately, full of green algae, and definitely not an ideal place for Zoey to be in the water. So I packed up a bag with a few towels, 3 bottles of water (one for each dog and David) and a bowl for them to drink from, sunscreen and off we went.
Zoey
Zoey’s excitement as we were walking down to the beach brought tears to my eyes. Buddy loves the beach but hates the water. He refuses to even get his paws wet. He’d rather explore, especially with all the different smells in an unfamiliar place. Zoey ran ahead and straight out in the water, jumping over the small waves as they came towards her. It felt like my heart was going to burst. It doesn’t take much to make me happy.
The temperature was perfect. Not too hot, with a slight breeze. And there was literally only one small cloud in the sky. It was the perfect shade of blue as far as the eye could see. I tried my best to take everything in and notice whatever I could, using all of my senses, because these moments don’t happen very often and I really wanted to remember this. I chose that particular location because of the sand. A lot of the beaches here in Newfoundland tend to be a bit rocky, making it difficult to walk with my balance issues, but this area was lovely.
Buddy
Zoey splashed along the shoreline in the water. Buddy zigzagged around us with his nose to the ground, taking in whatever scent he could. And being a beagle, a breed known for their hunting capabilities, he was in doggy heaven. And David and I walked for a while, holding hands, engaging in some random small talk.
Then he looks at me and says, “You should put your feet in the water. It’s not cold at all.” I looked at him and laughed. I was wearing jeans. “I’m not getting wet,” I said. David had shorts on and flip flops and had already walked in the water a little, getting his feet wet. “Just roll up your jeans. You’re wearing sandals anyway. Its ok if they get wet. They won’t be long drying.” I shook my head and continued walking along the sand.
Zoey (look at that smile!)
We were quiet for a while but I kept thinking about what he’d said. Lots of ppl love putting their feet in water. In movies I see ppl sit on the edge of pools or on the side of wharves, dangling their feet over the side. I’ve watched countless ppl walk along the shoreline, with the water covering their feet. It’s a normal thing lots of ppl do. So why does it seem like such an absurd thing for me? Why is it something I’m not allowed to do? What makes it so scary? Why does the thought of me doing something that others consider ‘fun’ fill me with so much discomfort in my body?
I had no answers and that bothered me. And I had no valid reason to not allow myself to walk in the water. All I knew was that I felt scared. The shame spiral began and my inner critic let loose, telling me how useless I was. Saying I was stupid and childish and a waste of space.
But I surprised myself this time. “Stop,” I said. Somehow I had found my voice and it took me a second to realize that I had said it out loud. It had been directed at the spiraling thoughts in my head but David stopped walking. I hesitated then bent down and began rolling up the leg of my jeans.
David’s flip flops
I don’t have the words to adequately describe how it felt to walk out in that water but I hope I never forget it. It’s like all of my problems just disappeared for a little while and I felt connected to something much greater. I smiled. I laughed. And at one point I even cried because I was so overwhelmed with something that felt good. I can’t label different emotions very well, other than it being either good or bad. But this felt absolutely incredible!
And Zoey … oh my goodness. It’s bringing tears to my eyes here now just writing about it. When she realized that I was in the water her excitement was almost too much for her to contain and she got the ‘puppy zoomies’. She ran circles around us, in and out of the water, jumping over the waves, then Buddy started chasing her around on the beach, and they were barking, and David and I just stood there laughing. Like, it was absolute pure joy surrounding all 4 of us and I don’t remember the last time I felt something like that.
Zoey
They say that salt water can cure almost anything. And I believe it. I’ve used salt water many times over the years to help promote healing in various physical ailments. But this was on a whole different level. The salt water may have only covered the lower part of my legs and feet but it felt like healing took place somewhere deep within my soul. It’s like, deep down inside, all of the broken and shattered parts of me felt … loved. I don’t know any other way to describe it.
And the little drops of salty water that fell from my eyes when I looked to the sky were my heart’s way of saying Thank You. Because it was as if God himself had wrapped His arms around me and said, ‘I got you’.
Its been such a beautiful day for a road trip! We are in Bay Roberts for the night to attend our Goddaughter’s first communion tomorrow morning.
June 8th, 2024
♡•♡•♡•♡
The weather was beautiful. We took our time. No rushing necessary today. We set up the backseat of our car so that the dogs would have a comfy trip. Their dog bed covers the entire back seat perfectly so whenever we are going to be in the car for a while we bring it along.
There was nothing out of the ordinary about this trip. But Buddy’s anxiety was through the roof the entire 5 hours we were on the road. We made a stop pretty much every hour to let them get out and have a short walk and a drink. Zoey was great. Not much of a sound out of her all day but Buddy trembled for more than half of the trip and spent most of it in my arms. I’ve never seen him upset Ike that because he loves being in the car.
Buddy, trying to make his way into the front seat
Overall it’s been a good day. The sun has been food for my soul and the colors of this evening’s sky were sheer perfection. These are the kind of days that give me strength to want to wake up again tomorrow.
A single moment where colors hit the right places at the right time and I happened to be there to appreciate that moment. When you are practicing mindfulness, learning how to be present and in the moment, it’s rather amazing the things that you may notice. There’s a world full of incredible beauty beyond our awareness that’s just waiting to be embraced. Being mindful allows us to tap into hidden reservoirs of splendor and delight that are available any time – just look closely.
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 rightnow 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.
Her Complex Musings 
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