Tag: pain

My Heart Needs A Hot Water Bottle

A Girl In A Complex World

I slept with a hot water bottle on my chest last night.

The ache in my heart was more than the heaviness from everything life has thrown at me recently. It was physical. Last night my heart was raw. Broken. And it hurt. No pain could ever compare to that of an injured heart … And that’s a big statement coming from me.

I’m no stranger to physical pain. My body has endured a great deal of trauma over the years and I’ve grown quite accustomed to high levels of pain. From cuts and bruises, burns, and broken bones to having body parts ripped and torn, crushed, and even amputated. Yes, you read that right. Amputated. I lost my left arm in a car accident in 2010. So I know what it’s like to feel pain. But I would go through everything all over again if I knew it would cure my injured heart.

Staying positive is a necessity
Getting some fresh air outside the hospital
Buddy comforting me after I had a seizure
“I got your back, Mom” — Zoey
Living hurts sometimes.

I think most of us have had our hearts injured at some point in life – maybe even regularly – and injuries need to recover and heal. If you’ve ever been injured physically, you know that warmth and gentleness are requirements for healthy recovery. We need that warmth. We need gentleness.

Sometimes you can get those things from other people, but sometimes you have to find a way to give them to yourself. And last night I found a great deal of comfort in sleeping with a hot water bottle on my chest.

To feel that presence of warmth, was something I had no idea I needed and as I lay there in the dark, something shifted inside of me. Though reluctantly at first, I allowed myself to lean into the warmth, and then tears began to fall.

It was like giving myself a gift – which I’m not that great at doing. But I really do want ‘Danielle’ to be okay. I want her to always know that a warm presence is available, no matter who is or isn’t around.

I think one of the most incredible gifts we have been given as humans is the ability to comfort ourselves. The best tool I’ve learned in my journey with CPTSD is self-soothing. I still have a long way to go, but I’ve come so far from when drugs, food, and self-harm were the only tools I had.

For me, this deep ache of sadness in my heart is the scariest emotion of all. It’s the one I run from time after time, afraid that if it catches me, it will swallow me whole. I always seem to forget that not once has that ever happened.

Sometimes it will feel like our heart has been shattered, beyond the point of being able to ever experience any sort of joy or peace again. Just remember, feelings are not always facts!

And you can always sleep with a hot water bottle! That helps too.

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 Tattoo Flu

A Girl In A Complex World

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a very ‘complex’ person (eye roll). And that neither my mind nor body functions as it should, and can be very unpredictable. So there’s not really a lot that really surprises me anymore. But like, seriously. Get this … I’ve been sick with what my tattoo artist is calling the ‘Tattoo Flu’. Have you ever heard of this?!



I got my 8th tattoo last week. I have never had any complications from any of them. Have never needed pain meds or even much aftercare because they all healed without any issues. I must also add that earlier this year I had one done on the left side of my chest, which is a part of my body that was seriously injured in a car accident (my left arm was amputated). No major issues with that tattoo. Minimal bleeding, swelling, and redness. No bruising. I went through the session with no problem.

But this time … Oh. My. Goodness!!

Within the first 30 minutes I started shivering, and it didn’t stop. 4 hrs later at home, I was still trembling. I threw up about an hour in. He gave me a break, had me eat candy, and asked if I wanted to stop and finish the rest another day. I told him to keep going.

I must admit though, the reason I didn’t want to stop was mainly because of pride. Because, you see, I am tough! I can handle a lot of pain. I’m a badass, with tattoos! A few needle pokes got nothing on this girl! I’ve been through much worse. So no, I’m not quitting!

Anyways, I was under the needle for 2 hrs. I was booked for additional touch-ups on 2 older tattoos but at the 2 hr mark, he completed my chest piece and told me he wasn’t going to continue. He said “I think you might be getting what we call the Tattoo Flu … you’re going into shock.”

Me being me, how did I respond? “Don’t be silly,” I said. “I’m fine! It’s all good!”
I told him that if I could go outside for a few minutes then I’ll be good to go again. But he refused, said it would be dangerous to keep going, and added that I was a sucker for punishment. I was pissed. (I think the fact that my body was reacting this way made me want to keep going even more. Not sure what exactly I was trying to prove ….)

I appreciated his looking out for me and it gained my respect, for being a good responsible artist. But that doesn’t mean I liked the decision!



It’s been 5 days and I’ve been feeling like shit. Leading up to this I wasn’t feeling the greatest to begin with. There’s been a lot of additional stress lately and I think it’s affecting my health a bit. I guess I’ve just been feeling a little burnt out. But still!! I did not expect this. I made sure I got some sleep the night before and I even had breakfast and some water before going to the appointment. But man, this stuff is real!!

So the tattoo flu is caused by an immune system response. When the skin is punctured by needles, the body reacts to the trauma and treats the ink like a foreign substance. So the immune system works to heal the skin and fight off the perceived threat. This response is what causes the flu-like symptoms as it tries to recover and protect itself.

I’ve had chills. Every part of my body has been aching. I’ve been nauseous and dizzy and even more exhausted than usual. Did I mention the swelling and bruising?! I’ve never had bruising from a tattoo before but it’s as if I’ve been beaten with a baseball bat this time!

The tattoo flu could last up to a week. Thankfully I am feeling a bit better today. Its usually only seen it in ppl getting really large pieces done in one sitting. I began showing signs after 30 minutes. Also, low blood sugar is common when the body is under stress, which is why the artist had a stash of lollipops. I didn’t know that a tattoo could cause uour blood sugar to drop!

I was given some great advice, which I will definitely take, to hopefully prevent the tattoo flu if (when) I get another one. It basically all comes down to self-care!

🦋 Have lots of carbs, sugar, and hydration in my system before a session. Drink a couple of bottles of Gatorade the day before (and during) the session.

🦋 Get a good night’s sleep the night before. And afterward, relax and be gentle with yourself because your body just went through a trauma.

🦋 Leading up to the session, don’t do anything super activating. Being calm at the beginning will help make the adrenaline rush and subsequent crash less intense. A lot of tension in the body before the tattooing process begins could actually cause an immune response to occur, that might otherwise not have happened had there not been so much stored stress.

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.

Rest, Restore & Repair

A Girl In A Complex World
Buddy & Me

Some days you just gotta give in. Self-care today has consisted of a whole lot of nothing. No make up. No hair styling. An old pair of ripped jeans. (Which we all know are the best anyway) And an old baggy sweater. I’ve had slippers on over my fuzzy socks and a blanket has been kept within reach.

I am both mentally and physically exhausted. It’s day 4 or 5 of this recent CRPS flare. I’ve lost track, as the days and nights have kinda blended into one another. Chronic pain can be brutal on any level. But these flare-ups of Complex Regional Pain Syndrome push things to a whole different level.

My body can’t regulate it’s temperature. I go from shivering to sweating and back again in the blink of an eye. Even a light sensation of something against my legs or feet feels like razor blades slicing through my skin. I feel like my upper body is currently wrapped tightly in barbed wire with electricity shooting through it.

Up until last night, I have been pushing through, not letting the pain slow me down. But while picking up dog toys around the house before bed, nausea swept over me and the vomiting started. It was a long night of trying to lay still and keep my breath regulated because each time I moved I’d throw up.

So today, I was forced to prioritize rest. Maybe I should have done this before. But I guess in the back of my mind I just feel that by resting, I’m letting the pain win. I keep hoping that it will all be OK and will go away again in a day or 2. Except I should know by now that these flares never go away that quickly.

Rest is hard for me. Especially during the daytime. But I have to say that I actually enjoyed having this down time today. My boy was by my side (and my head!) all day. There’s such a profound level of comfort that comes with having a dog next to me. It puts my entire self at ease when I feel the warmth from their body against mine.

I ate without putting too much focus on good vs. bad food. I treated myself to some diet pop and chewed bubble gum like there was no tomorrow. Netflix took a chunk of my afternoon once I got caught up in a series called Cobra Kai and while I did do laundry, it still sits in the basket waiting to be folded. But hey, at least it’s clean!

Days like this require a lot of self-talk. Constantly needing to tell myself that it’s perfectly OK for me to rest, that it doesn’t mean I’m a fat, lazy, slob. Maybe this wasn’t actually an unproductive day. But rather a day where repair took place. Maybe even a little healing and restoration. Because my pain level has dropped from an 8 this morning to about a 4 or 5 here now at 9pm. So I must have done something right!

Buddy & Me

Craving Wellness

A Girl In A Complex World

I am not gonna lie; I am not always okay. I will always tell you I’m okay, but sometimes I’m not being completely honest.

Sometimes, I just want to disappear. I want to stop living. Sometimes, I feel like I am not going to be alright. Like everything feels wrong, and I am so sad. I am really good at pretending that I am okay when I’m not.

At night, the darkness haunts me. The pain is trying to suffocate me when I close my eyes. I am just so lost right now. My smiles are fake and I feel like such a fraud. I’ve been wondering what went wrong. Why is this happening? Why am I so unhappy? Why do I feel so tired whenever I wake up?

I am so sick of this. I keep thinking that maybe someday I am going to heal. Maybe I will eventually feel whole, as opposed to broken. I will experience what its like to be happy and content. I crave wellness …

but I just can’t reach it. I don’t think its ever going to happen for me. I can’t stay like this. I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I don’t want to be sad over and over again.

I’m tired of reaching for something I want so bad but never being able to grab it.

I’m Sorry …

A Girl In A Complex World 
I didn't call you back.

I was buried under a pile of blankets
Counting my breaths
Attempting to drown out all the noise
Trying to slow down my racing thoughts
Praying to hold on
Fighting the darkness
Willing myself to get up
Practicing positive self-talk
Bargaining with the universe 
Begging the pain to just
Stop.

I'm sorry I didn't call you back. 
🦋

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!

All Flared Up

A Girl In A Complex World

My pain level has been pretty extreme the past couple of days. I was diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) around 7/8 years ago, after being in a pretty bad car crash. Many of my injuries fully healed while others became permanent problems. So the pain receptors in my brain are all messed up. They frequently send signals around my body, that basically scream DANGER, and various parts of me act as if they’re suddenly being crushed and shredded and ripped apart.

So that’s where I’m at today. On the couch with a heated blanket wrapped around me (many thanks to my clothes dryer!), my 2 dogs close by, hot lemon ginger tea, a bottle of morphine, and Netflix. But I feel like I’m about to lose my freakin mind! I can’t stand not being able to do stuff. To be still and quiet and just relax … its actually painful. Mentally painful. So I’m pretty well maxed out in the pain department today. I can’t say I’m overly surprised by this though.

Different things trigger these flare ups and determine the severity. Many times I don’t know what it was but sometimes I do. Right now though my guess would be stress. My mental illness is trying really hard to destroy me and my body has been on the receiving end of some not so healthy attempts to make myself not feel it. I never anticipated though that a bump on my head would cause my entire body to overreact like this. But here we are.

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?

Promise Me

A Girl In A Complex World

that you will stay in the light, okay?

No matter what it takes

Promise me.

Pain will hunt you down

And rip you to shreds.

Its inevitable.

The waves will knock you down

Forcing air to exit your lungs.

Your heart will break

More than once.

Your soul will quiver

And you will lose your way

For a moment.

Never forget that a moment is a moment.

It won’t last forever.

Nothing lasts forever.

So don’t turn off the light.

Promise me …

Choosing Life

A Girl In A Complex World

The first time I thought about taking my own life I was 14. The first time I harmed myself I was 10. This is the reality of a 20 year battle with my health and truthfully, I’m still fighting.

I’ve struggled with being different my entire life. My insecurities have pushed me so far that I lost all value of my life. Sometimes I get a glimpse of what freedom looks like without feeling the guilt and shame for being different, but that’s all it is, a glimpse. I know that being different is a part of what makes me who I am. But the struggle to actually appreciate that is definitely real.

I don’t claim to live a life free of pain and frustration or even sickness. But I have grown a lot. My heaviness now coexists with a will to fight, and the fighter in me will have the final word.

Every day that I wake up is proof that I’m still fighting. Every hour that I don’t engage in self harm as a means of coping means that I’m still fighting. Every minute that I choose to speak truth even when my mind is screaming lies is proof that I’m fighting. But also, when I have a setback, it’s yet another chance for me to fight … again.

My reality includes a list of diagnoses that include mental illness and chronic pain, AND my reality is that I’m a complex girl who is the epitome of different, who is CHOOSING life. Everyday. And I promise you, no matter what it is that breaks you, hurts you, and makes you feel like giving up – your life is worth choosing, too.