God is So Good

 

The last couple of weeks have been rough. I tried to push out a post or two but the harder I tried the further I fell. I write, for you, but also for me. What I had planned to post just wasn't what I needed. I tend to avoid talking about what I need to, because it triggers memories and/or I don't want people to see me as being weak because I struggle.

I was told that I won the 'worst week' award, when it came to the first week of August. I am all or nothing. When it rains, it floods, in my world. Although, I don't like to compare troubles, because pain and trauma are not contests, I had to think that they were right.

To start, I have PTSD. This comes with anxiety, flashbacks (which bring the inability to feel safe), panic attacks, night terrors, sleepless nights, and an overall feeling that my world is crumbling. I had been struggling, hard, with all of this for a couple of weeks. As time went on, the more frequent and intense the flashbacks became. Until, finally, there was no room to catch myself, between them.

Imagine, being thrown overboard a ship, into the stormy sea. No life raft. No vest. Just you and the sea creatures as the ship sails away. At first, you are taken under. But you come back up and you can swim a little before the next wave forces you below the surface. This happens a few times, each time, it wears you a little more. Then, something grabs you and pulls you under. You fight. You get away. It reaches for you again. It pulls you further below the waves, You fight it and get away, but you have to work harder for that next breath. It happens repeatedly, until you are too weak to get away. You fade away. You don't know how long, but after a while, you are washed up on the beach. If you are lucky enough, you are on someone's boat, gasping for air and a bit disoriented.

Welcome to my reality.

This particular round involved my sixteenth birthday, where I was taken from my home and my attempt to protect myself backfired. I was stabbed and that was only part of it. I received no medical treatment and have a nasty scar that has only begun to fade. For the last two weeks, I have felt the same stab and twist, repeatedly. Each time came as a surprise, which sent me further into the flashback. Nothing except the time of year triggered it. It didn't matter if I was home, work or buying groceries. Each time I was thrown back. It was so vivid that I questioned if this reality was a world I had created to escape the bad. It is very frightening to jump between times so rapidly. Frightening and exhausting.

While dealing with all of this, I had to make the heartbreaking decision to put our dog down so that he wouldn't suffer any more cluster seizures. Baymax has been my little buddy for the last two years. When I brought him home, it was with intention of training him to be a service dog, but he started to have seizures. We took him to the vet, ran tests, threw him on a cocktail of medications but it just wasn't enough. He had all of the things that could cause seizures, not just one. We spent time in emergency pet care, cooling him down with ice packs for hours, after he had over 20 seizures in the span of two hours. 

Even though he couldn't be a service dog, he was always there for me. When I was anxious, he would lay across me, all 50 pounds of him. He never really left my side. He always wanted to put a smile on our faces. Baymax never knew a stranger. He had the kindest heart and a lot of love to give. He was all love. He will forever be loved and missed. I would be lying if I told you I am okay. In this moment, I am numb. I keep myself busy because if I pause for a moment, I tell myself that I have to let him out. I look for him to lay on my lap or watch the time to give him his medication or "cereal". I feel empty. I don't know what to do with it and I don't like how it feels, so I turn it off because I know how to deal with being numb. I don't know how to grieve. 

Through all of this, I found myself saying, "God is so Good." Which is true but it shocked me. With everything that is going on, why would I praise God? After all, I have flashbacks, night terrors and He gave me the best dog anyone could ever have and took him away. Why? It is very simple. I will tell you.

1. I have flashbacks. Yes, this is a reason to praise God. Why? Flashbacks are like scars, active scars, in the sense that they aren't just 'there'. What do scars mean? Well, scars mean that there was a wound, something happened that caused pain. Scars show that there was healing because scars don't bleed, anymore. They show us that we aren't there. We aren't actively in that pain. Who heals? Why, God heals all wounds! I have my share of physical scars (52 to be exact). Flashbacks, though difficult at the time I am experiencing them, are physically harmless. I'm not actually getting stabbed again. They do cause emotional distress, and the emotions I felt then, can resurface and stay a while....but guess what! Flashbacks mean that I am not there anymore. Why? Because my God, my Fortress, my Shepherd brought me out of it. God is Good.

2. I was given the best dog anyone could ever have. I firmly believe that we gave him the best life and no one else could have done a better job. He was 100% love from day one. I hardly had to get on to him about chewing things (and really the only things he got that weren't his were the lamp cords...when he was a baby, baby). He only messed in the house, twice before he understood how to ask to go out. After that, any messes were because he was sick or had a seizure. He loved to play and cuddle. Near the end, he mostly cuddled. He was always happy to see me get home from work, no matter how tired he was feeling. He helped me through so many rough times. Then, I had to put him down. Why, God? Right? Well, there is a time for everything. When I first brought Baymax into my home, I was scared, having to deal with life, alone (for the most part), living alone....I needed someone to comfort me so that I could fall apart. At the time, I didn't trust anyone enough to do that. Baymax did his job and he gave 119% of everything he had. That is a lot for a puppy to deal with. I thank Baymax for his loyalty, love and friendship. I thank God for giving me Baymax, even for a short two years. God is good. Loss still hurts but I can't imagine life without having known Baymax.

God is so Good

My Tool Box: The Calm Down Count Down

 

Part of the unsolicited adventure of having Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is that I dissociate. Sometimes, I lose connection and I'm not aware. I feel spacey, foggy or fuzzy...like I'm in a daze. Sometimes, I am aware.

I tend to dissociate when I'm stressed or come head to head with an intense emotion. It is my brain's way of protecting me when I may be in danger of one thing or another. I believe that everyone is capable of this, because we all have the flight or freeze responses. This is my brain's way of running when my body cannot. Unfortunately, the traumas I have been through (living trauma) causes everything to throw up the red flags and sound the inner sirens.

It's like this:

As a child, we are told not to touch the hot pan because it will hurt. We may not understand pain, or believe it, so one day we touch the hot pan and we get burned. It hurts and we know that we don't want to do to that again. Later, when we are in the kitchen, or cooking, and we reach for the pan, an alarm goes off in our brain to warn of us of the danger of being burned. This way, we can take the proper measures to avoid the pain and we can try to warn others, as we were warned

For me, it feels like I am trapped in a room filled with pans on stoves. There is no protection and no way to tell which pans are hot. I feel overwhelmed, unsafe and if I try to reach for any pan, my brain flashes the memory of being burned or makes me freeze. I get lost outside of myself and sometimes where I am. Sometimes, it is like I can see me and what I'm doing as if I were a bystander.

A few years ago, I was watching a show called "The Fosters". It is a great show about a family (The Fosters) who take care of foster kids and the journey of those kids into a better life. Some take the rough road and some have it seemingly easy for a while. In one of these episodes, one of the main characters has a panic attack. It was her first one so she didn't know what to do (I've been there, many times). Another character, who may have triggered the attack, began to say "Name five things you see...out loud." 

The character struggled to do this, but finally managed though she still was in a panic. Then there was a list that I have actually used, I call it the "Calm Down Count Down":

• Name 5 things you see, and at least 1 characteristic for each. (Blue eyes on the cat, the old, orange brick fireplace....etc). The more specific you can get, the easier it is to ground but the things you see, is often too early to get specific.
• Name 4 things you can touch (and touch them), describe at least 1 characteristic for each.
• Name 3 things you can hear and describe that noise (annoying, soft, shrill, calming, bubbling...etc)
• Name 2 things you can smell, and describe each one.
• Name 1 thing you can taste or feel (as emotion).

For me, this kind of grounding, being aware of my surroundings, helps me if I am struggling with dissociation or panic/anxiety. Typically, this helps me more in settings that I'm not familiar with. So, doctor's office, a classroom, the mechanics....anywhere that I'm not constantly having to move. This does not help me in the groccery store, there is just too much going on and I get even more overwhelmed. Although it still works, it does not have as great of an effect at my house because I know what everything is. 

There is no "One size fits all" method for people. Even more annoying, not everything works all of the time. I have spent the last two years researching and going to counseling to add tools to my toolbox to help me cope with my symptoms and thrive. Just like a tape measure isn't the correct tool for pounding in a nail (at least not a very effective one), this tool may not be the one you need, at the time.

You don't have to have C/PTSD or panic disorders in order to use this. Sometimes, I use it when I don't want to think about something or when I'm bored. It does tend to help panic, I find, because it takes your mind off your lungs and the idea that you can't breathe. It puts your mind on parts of your body that might typically feel safe and focus on your senses. 

I will be writing more posts on some of the tools that, I find, help me.

25 Things I Wish You Knew: The Big Bang

If you live in America, then you are familiar with the one day where everyone gets together and grills hamburgers and hot dogs. If you have a pool, all the kids are in it. Magically, it never rains and when the sun goes down, the sky lights up with all the wonderful colors of fireworks. Happy Independence Day!

This day brings a lot of joy and awe to many. Many people are aware of the effect the loud noises have on their pets. Unless, they are my dog. He thinks that fireworks are a contest to see who can be louder. Yet, he is afraid of the vacuum cleaner. Some people are aware of the effect the fireworks can have on people. Those who are aware, may tend to think that the effects are reserved for military only. After all, PTSD was once only recognized in soldiers who had returned from war.

We don't think about our heroes at home. Police officers, face the dangers of being shot, every day. We don't think about the refugees who escaped a war zone. We don't think about the family who survived a drive by. July 4th is not always the most welcomed holiday for everyone.

I dread July 4th and the nights surrounding it. True, I was never a soldier. I'm not a hero. I'm not a police officer. I'm not a refugee. However, loud, unexpected noises do trigger my symptoms. Even more, if those loud noises sound like a gunshot.

Firstly, loud unexpected noises can trigger anyone who has PTSD, regardless of the circumstances surrounding it. Anything that is unexpected, can make the average Joe jump. The reason why, is because it triggers a fight or flight response. I've talked about the various responses in my post on flashbacks. That is how all people are wired. Those who don't have PTSD, likely, can recognize the source and calm down. 

Those with PTSD, we can't always recognize the source because whatever triggered may have sent us into a flashback quicker than we could grab something that could keep us present. For me, these loud noises sound like gunshots. Even if they don't. If I am present enough, I am afraid to look behind me. I get an overwhelming feeling of fear and grief which turns to emptiness. Then, the all too familiar thoughts of everything being my fault, return. If I can't ground, it becomes a cycle. If I can, and the noise only happens once, I'm okay but left with the feelings of the aftermath. Fireworks, don't stop at one. So, July 4th becomes this exhausting attempt to stay present and feel safe when my symptoms are constantly being triggered.

I have a difficult time talking about what happened...about why I have a difficult time being around guns. Why loud noises effect me so much to the point where I just want to cry. When I think about it, often times, I am sent back. Afraid to look behind me. Afraid.

So, on July 4th, if you came to my house, you might see a mountain of pillows with several blankets. The T.V. or radio would be turned up and I may be more quiet than usual as I listen to my Christian radio station or watch the nonsense of Andy Griffith. My dog would either be laying on me, right up next to me, or outside barking his little head off (sorry, neighbors). Usually, I make my comfort foods, mac and cheese (or grilled cheese), Italian Ice popsicles, orange juice or yogurt covered raisins. I also usually have some sort of caffeine the next day because I have been awake most of the night.

I don't ask the world to stop the festivities, simply because I have a difficult time. I would never expect that. I mean, really, who am I? I do try to help my family, my husband, and friends understand so that when I turn down offers to watch the fireworks or if I need a little more care or solitude I'm not offending anyone. If someone you know has PTSD, they don't want you to stop the world for them. They may need more care, the next day, whether that comes from you or from them. Flashbacks are exhausting. Trying to stay out of them is exhausting. So, July 5th, if they seem a little more tired, they are. If they have a blanket fort or pillow mountain, like me, it would mean the world to them if you joined them in their silent fort. If you know their happy triggers (music, cartoons, comfort foods), that could help too. This small gesture speaks volumes, any time someone is struggling. 

Questions (a poem)

 

Please turn the volume up on your device and listen to this poem. 

This poem is one of several that are related to the subject of flashbacks. I wrote this one a couple of years ago. At the time, the battle with flashbacks was a lot more difficult than it is now. I didn't know how to ground, so it was a lot easier to get thrown into a full blown, reacting flashback. The after math of flashbacks are still difficult because all of the feelings I felt, then, remain for a while. A lot of the times, I don't feel safe afterwards. I'm more on edge. More jumpy. More watchful. 

During the time that I wrote this poem, and even still, I got a lot of questions from people. Questions like, "How long has it been since you went through ______" or "What happened" made me feel less than. The first question, made it seem that the person asking was saying I should be over it by now. I mean, let's face it, at that time, it had been seven years since I escaped the trafficking circles and fresh out of an abusive relationship. If we were talking childhood abuse, I'm not sure where the line of child is drawn, but if we are going by the age of eighteen it had been ten years. That question made me fell like I was doing something wrong or I wasn't trying hard enough.

The second question was a dangerous one to answer. As I said, I didn't know any grounding techniques. In other words, I didn't know how to keep myself in the present and not get thrown back into the past. I had never spoken about the trauma and when I tried, I was forced back into thinking that I was there and not here. Now, this is a question that I can answer, and depending on how much I'm grounded, I can relay some details. I know when stop and what information I can give, at any given moment. My main concern, when this question is asked, is: "does this person really know what they are asking?" and "Is this something they are ready to know?" I realize that the answer to my questions really lies in the answer to theirs. I have to trust that the person asking will let me know when it is too much for them. This is difficult, because I am a protector. That's what I do.

My favorite of all, which isn't really a question, is when I am having an anxiety or panic attack and someone tells me to "just breathe". First, this angers me because if I felt like I was able to breathe, I wouldn't be in that situation. The second thought that comes to my mind is just laughing, but at the time I can't because my brain and my body thinks that I'm dying. 

This poem "Questions" was the rant that goes off in my brain when "just breathe" is spoken because if I explained why I couldn't, then there would be more questions needing answers. When I am panicking, or having a flashback, I need something else to focus on besides whatever it is that is going on in my head. So, asking, "What happened, then?" while I'm in a flashback is not helpful. However, letting me know where I am, pointing things out in the room (the green couch or if you look at the windows you can see the dog's nose prints) and letting me know that I am safe and no one is going to hurt me is very helpful. Another thing, is talking about something unrelated to anything. Food, isn't usually a trigger. I like to cook and bake so food is usually a safe subject. Or, talk about animals. Ask me about my dog. Tell me silly story about your pet or any animal encounter that doesn't end tragically. 

Today, I can answer questions. I couldn't then. I am not always able to go into details. There are some people, who I don't trust enough with even the simplest answers. When you ask questions, please, just respect if they are not at a place where they cannot answer you and don't push it. You may want to help but saying it all out loud, makes it real. There is power in words. Also, be careful to help them understand that you aren't judging them for their struggles. They survived some tough stuff that you may or may not know about. They already feel broken and weak. Help them feel strong and let them know that you are there for them, if they ever need someone to listen. 

25 Things I Wish You Knew: Flashbacks

One of the common symptoms of C/PTSD are intrusive memories. In other words, flashbacks. This is a difficult one for me to explain. Not all flashbacks are the same. Please, understand, while reading this, that this is from one person's experience.  My  experience. 

Television and Movies tend to focus on the "flashback" symptom of PTSD, when they are trying to get the audience to understand what it might be like for the character. There are two types of memories: explicit and implicit. Explicit memories are fact specific (sights, sounds, sensations). Implicit memories are emotionally based. A lot of media focuses on the explicit memories, simply because they are easier to show and help may help tell the backstory of a character. 

So, we know what memories are. What exactly is a flashback? A flashback is when someone relives an event. This can be triggered by sights, sounds, smells, certain words. Flashbacks are not always dramatic. I don't usually duck for cover when there is a loud noise. Sometimes, I do, but not usually. Perhaps, that is because the events that haunt me, I shut down in.

We know that there are four responses to trauma:

• Flight- our bodies tell us to get out, NOW! I tried this a couple of times, but the end results were devastating. This was always the first instinct, but hardly possible.
• Fight- this one is kind of obvious. I was a fighter. I held my own until I couldn't. All of my opponents were far bigger than I was. I never threw the first punch and I fought for other people, a lot of the time. I knew that if I kept fighting, I would die. Sometimes, fighting worked. Sometimes, it made things worse. A lot of the time, it just wasn't enough.
• Freeze- this is when your body knows that the first two won't work to keep you safe and alive. Your body won't cooperate with commands, it freezes, immobilizes and your mind can disassociate. This is what I did, when things got really bad and the first two didn't work.
• Fawn- is avoiding conflict, at any cost. You become a 'people-pleaser'. You neglect your needs for someone else. I did this too. I lived this. 

I do all of these now. I'm safe, I don't have any reason to run or fight. These responses were so much a part of my survival, for so long that I don't know how to respond without them.

When I relive the memories, when I have flashbacks, I feel panic (that's flight), I get on guard (that's fight), and then I shut down and disassociate (that's freeze). Most of the time, I don't act on the first two. I have tried to fight off someone who was only trying to see if I was okay, but they touched me and I didn't recognize them as who they were. 

When I shut down, I go inside of myself. I don't see the room that I'm in. I don't see the people in the room. Sometimes, it is a slow fade and I can try to mentally grab something to keep me from falling down the 'rabbit hole'. Other times, there is no warning, no fade. One minute, I'm here, in the now. The next, I'm not. I see, hear, smell, taste....whatever memory was triggered, I relive it. I ride it out because I don't understand that it isn't happening. So, I feel all of the emotions, the instincts, the pain. When it ends, it fades or is instantaneous change. Either way, I'm left feeling confused, empty and panicked. Sometimes, I'm still ready to fight. 

Flashbacks feel intense, even if there is no outward reaction. They are exhausting. 

There are also smaller flashbacks, what I call overlays. In these instances, I'm here but I'm not. If I am more aware, I can tell you that I'm "stuck in the In Between". Here, I am aware of my surroundings but something just doesn't match up with what is really going on. A lot of the times, my overlays are emotions that aren't quite appropriate for what is happening or I can't read someone because I'm sensing something from a memory. Sometimes, the overlays are pain. 

Most recently, my husband and I were sitting in our recliners, watching a show. Something wasn't right. I could feel something trickle down my left leg. I got up from my recliner as I said "Not good", I was aware that something didn't match up. As soon as I stood, I felt an all too familiar stab in that same area where the trickle had happened. My legs collapsed and I fell near my husband's chair. I limped away, to the kitchen, just to get out of the room because I didn't want him to see the rest of that memory, if I couldn't stop the flashback from taking full effect. Thankfully, it was only an overlay and lasted only a minute or two.

I guess you could say that I am an unwilling time-traveler. 

I wish you knew how scary these flashbacks are for me. I wish I could help you to understand that I do not choose to have these. Most of the time, I'm not even thinking of whatever memory. Most of the time, I'm taken off guard and I fight them off, if I can. Just like then, a lot of the time, fighting just isn't enough. I need you to know that when I am not responding to you, do not touch me because I don't want to hurt you. I need you to not panic and just talk to me If you panic, then I will panic more. Let me know that I am safe even after I am fully back. If you can, get me to laugh, that is the quickest way to help me ground. I wish you knew that I don't feel okay, but I will be okay. The memories cannot hurt me, but they feel very real.

25 Things I Wish You Knew: My Bubble!

I watched Disney's Finding Nemo, once. There was this character that had on obsession with the bubbles in the fish tank. Every time the little treasure chest opened, it would rush over and say "My bubbles!".  There is also a saying, "burst your bubble," which is said when someone is deflating an ego. 

I have a "personal bubble" and I'm pretty possessive about it and picky of who is allowed in. My bubble grows and shrinks according to the person. For example, with my husband, there isn't much of a bubble and our dog ignores the bubble. With people who I don't know, there is a minimum three foot bubble. Basically, if I can touch you or you can touch me, you are too close. 

Honestly, this pandemic has been great for me, because for the most part, my bubble is safe. There are the occasional strangers who for whatever reason think that they have to touch you to ask a question. I try not to get snippy but I let them know that I don't want to be touched. Hugs are given to a select few people and there is some sort of (sometimes non-verbal) permission transaction that takes place. A couple of people in my church, my husband, my mother-in-law, and two friends are on the list of people who can enter my bubble for a hug. So, if you are one of these, thank you for being a person who I trust enough to let in.

If someone enters my space and I don't feel safe, I take a step away. Sometimes, they get the hint. Sometimes I'm met with, "I've had my shots." This is the same when I express that I don't want to be touched or that I don't want to shake hands. Not everyone feels safe with proximity. 

It's not germs. I'm not afraid of germs. If I know and trust you, your germs don't scare me. I will take care of you when you are sick, even if you were sick with COVID. If you were on the "short bubble list", I would sit with you on the couch and watch whatever show or movie you wanted while feeding you chicken soup and Gatorade. Germs don't scare me. People do.

My body has this kinetic memory device that doesn't erase without a hot (and I mean hot) shower. So, when I clock in at 8a.m. and a customer touches my shoulder at 8:15 a.m., that place on my shoulder still feels their hand lingering, until I wash it off after work. Meanwhile, another customer touches my back (a huge no), another touches my hand. I wish that I could show you how often unwanted touch happens, daily. I feel suffocated and unsafe when this happens too much or with a hand shake. My fingers and toes are the safest feeling parts of my body but a handshake takes away my hand. My hand is my defense, and I'm afraid that it won't work, if I need it to, after a handshake. So, I'm left, unarmed. This makes me feel unsafe. 

When I sit and try to paint a picture of what the feeling looks like, it is horrifying. I'm standing in middle of hundreds of hands reaching out for me and some are successful at reaching me. I can't move without being touched by another, bony, demonic hand. There is no escape. It does not leave me until I take a hot shower, in my home.

There are people I know and trust but I still haven't hugged them. I still haven't touched their arm or let them touch my arm, or hand. My co-worker that invited me to their house, I consider to be one of my closest friends. I believe I didn't hug them until a couple of weeks ago and it was their last day at my store. They asked, I complied. There were many times I wanted to hug them.

My life was filled with dreams of good things and good people. Often, I am afraid that this good thing that I have going, with these amazing people who love and support me in healing, are a place and storyline that I have made up to escape the awful, terrible things that could still be going on. I'm afraid that if I reach out to touch their arm, or give them hug, and they aren't really there, that I will crumble from the loss. I have a friend who I talk with a lot. For over two years, they have never been near my bubble. Finally, they asked if we could shake hands. I don't shake hands. After a couple of weeks of the same question, we settled on a fist-bump. 

I was afraid that they would not be real. I felt a rush of relief when they didn't disappear. I know that all of this is because touch has not been a good thing, in my experience. I am learning that it can be good but I'm still very guarded. I am "bubble obsessed" and I know that is because I had to protect myself for so long. It is a survival method. Build walls, make bubbles, don't let anyone close.  

I wish I could tell you that I am just afraid you won't be real because you are a good thing and I want you to be real. I want you to stay. I wish I could help you understand that for 28 years, there was no "good touch". There were no "good people".  If you want a hug, or a fist-bump, just ask. I may tell you "a short one" and if you comply, maybe next time could be longer. If I tell you, "not right now", it may be because of all of the hands that I still feel from the rest of the day. Please, don't take it personal. Knowing that you want to, is a comfort and I will keep it in mind for the times that I feel I am able to let you in.

25 Things I Wish You Knew: Making plans

Some people are planning people. They like to plan what they are going to do on their days off. They may plan to go shopping, or sight seeing. They may plan to go visit with a friend or even what they are going to be eating. Me? I've tried to make plans with and without people. Sometimes, the plans work out but more often than not, they don't. When plans don't work out I come face first with an all to familiar wall:

We had this planned. You can't cancel plans.

Why can't you? It's just lunch at my place.

Sometimes, those who make the plans get angry when I have to change things. Don't get me wrong, I understand why they would be angry. If I went through the trouble of planning an event or changing my schedule around to fit (insert activity/people) in, I would feel the same way. That isn't the part that bothers me. It is when those same people ask and I explain, but they still don't get it. Mental health jargon may seem like a different language. A lot of things don't make sense and a lot of things I can't explain. If I can explain them, it is not at a level that most people are willing to accept.

First, any kind of plan/expectation makes me anxious. For X amount of hours, I am expected to be symptom free, happy, have a great time, etc. During this time, I will be around a lot of unknowns, some possible triggers and still be expected to play the part of a "normal" or mentally healthy person. I don't "fake" well.

This is not to say that I don't want plans, because I'm also not a "spur of the moment" type person either. I don't like surprises, they feel like an ambush. So, of course, I would rather have someone invite me to lunch or to go to the drive-in (yes, they still exist), instead of telling me that is what we are doing. Give me a choice, but if I say 'no', understand it isn't you.

A lot of the time, when invited to some activity, I have a lot of questions:

• What time do I have to be there?
• WHO is going to be there? If I ask this question, give me a list of specifics. This helps me gauge how small of a box I have to put myself in and helps me determine how long I think I can stay/participate. This really is a mathematical equation. The less people attending, and the more people I know and trust, the longer I can stay. If you are the only person I know out of ten...Chances are, I'm not going.
• Where are we going? This is important, too. If you want it to be a surprise, you can say a general location: the park or a friend's house. Okay, someone's house will probably lead to more questions but give as much information as you are able. 
• What are the activities? What I'm looking for, is how much conversation am I going to need to partake in? Any kind of activity brings the focus away from me. I don't have to think about how much I trust the attendees. 

If this is something that you and/or I really want, I may hesitate at first. I will probably ask the same questions over and over, until the event. 

A co-worker and one of my closest friends invited my husband (then fiancé) and I to a dinner at their place. They answered all of my questions, multiple times. It was just a dinner and I was informed that I could leave, right after, if I wanted to. I was told that there would be three other people there. One was a former co-worker. The other two I had never met but I was convinced that they were safe people. Really, this is what I'm looking for. Will I be safe? 

I believe that I told them, I would try. This is my answer to most invitations that I actually would like to accept. I don't promise to be there because I never know what battles will come that day

I make plans. However, my itinerary is fluid. There has to be room for change even at a moment's notice. I don't know how many times I have needed shoes, for work, and my husband and I make a plan, or set a goal to find a new pair by the end of a certain day. This plan usually fails. We talk about a few places we could go. We go in the first one and if I don't find what I'm needing in 15 minutes, we leave. We go back to the car and start towards the second destination. Nine times out of ten, we don't go in the second store. We go home and try again, a different day.

I need you to understand all of this because I want to spend time in your presence. I hardly feel safe outside of my own home. So, I need to know that this event or activity that you are wanting me to participate in, is safe. If I participate or show up, it is because I trust you. I trust that when you say the people are safe, they are. If they aren't, I can leave or you can ask them to leave. If I don't feel safe, I will shut down. I need you to understand this so that your expectations of the extent of my participation will be at a level that I am able to reach. I may not add a lot to the conversation. I may observe for a while. I may ask to be excused and leave because I'm feeling overwhelmed or unsafe. If we are in public, don't expect me to stay. I am hyper aware and it is exhausting. This was explained in a previous post but applies here too.

I want to be included. I will try my best but my best varies from day to day.

25 Things I wish You Knew: I AM Fragile

It was not too long ago, that if you asked me, I would have told you that I was fragile like bomb. Two years ago, that was probably true. I would not let anyone near me. I was afraid of letting someone get close and hurting them, because of what I had been through. I was afraid of being hurt because I didn't know how much more I could take. I wanted people to be afraid of being anything less than gentle. You tend to be very careful about your movements when you are around a bomb that hasn't gone off yet.

Those who knew me, several years ago, might have said that I was "Feral". I was much like a stray dog, hungry, wanting love, but hurt and feeling backed in a corner. I knew that I was fragile, then. Some days, this is still me. What I didn't know was that not all people are unsafe. It took a lot of patience from one family, when I was in college, to get close. 

They didn't know that the abuse was still going on. They didn't know that when I went 'home' on the weekends and on breaks, I was still being trafficked. I met this family at a church. I went in, not wanting to be seen but when I say they saw me, they saw me. They greeted me and invited me to sit with them. I declined. Twice a week, for two months I declined. They never gave up. When I finally accepted the offer, they invited me to have lunch with them. Again, I declined. They offered every week, until I finally accepted. Then, they invited me to their family game night. I declined for a couple of weeks, still sitting with them on Sundays and Thursdays. I still had lunch with them every other Sunday. One week, I accepted the invitation to their family game night. This pattern continued for two years. Eventually, I stopped going 'home'. I spent my school breaks in the safety of their home, when I was not allowed to stay in the dorms. 

It was not until a month, or so, ago, that I learned what I truly am...what all people are. I am fragile, but not like a bomb. I am fragile like a flower. This is our first year, gardening and who knew that this age old chore could teach so much?

A flower begins as a seed and finds itself in the dirt. It may have been gently placed there by caring hands, or landed there by a wild ride on a bird, animal or insect. Plants need care: food, water, sunlight and pruning. The sun is the hope that gets the seed through the darkness. The plant also gets it's nutrients from the soil, but hope keeps it growing. Too much hope, leads to expectations that cannot be reached and it is devastating.

There is "good soil" and "bad soil". Good  soil has everything that the plant needs. No rocks. Plenty of nutrients. Bad dirt is neglected ground. The plant can still grow but it will have to work so much harder to get even a fraction of where the better soil- plant is. 

Water is essential. Too little, the plant dies. Too much, the roots begin to rot and the plant dies. This all seems very, "what's the point". The point is balance. The perfect balance will help any plant to thrive, in any circumstance. The end result is a beautiful flower, vegetable or fruit. The result is beautiful and unbelievable that something so small could survive so much wind, rain, ice, drought, unkept soil...and it becomes so beautiful that we forget the work, the care and everything that flower went through. 

I am not fragile like a bomb. There was a time where I was unstable. I was afraid. I wanted everyone to be afraid of hurting me, again. 

I am not fragile like a bomb. You do not need to be afraid of me.

I am fragile like a flower. I need care and guidance. I need balance. I need you to appreciate everything that I have been through and the hard work that I have put in to get to this point, right here. I need you not to compare me or set expectations that I can grow into a plant that was placed in "good soil", with all the right care. If you have these expectations, you will be disappointed and become angry with me. Then, I will lose you. I need a little more care because life hasn't been easy. I need you to not give up. To not push too much, but don't stop offering. 

There is the balance. In your offering to sit with me, have a meal, do/go to an activity together, I can see you try. I can see you reaching out and that "feral" part of me has a choice. I will probably refuse the first time, just don't push it. Offer again, at a later time and eventually, I will accept. I need you to be the gardener, because I don't have the tools, on my own, to grow. I don't know how to use a rake, or work the hose. I don't know which parts are dead or keeping me from growing. I don't know...but you do. 

I am not fragile like a bomb. I am fragile like a flower. I need care. I need my past to be respected, not forgotten. I need balance.

It's All In Your Head (A Poem)- Trigger Warning-

Please turn the volume up, on whatever device you are visiting, here. 

This is a poem that I wrote just over two years ago. I had recently found a way out of a long list of terrible situations and I started the work on breaking the cycle of abuse, in my life. I was blessed to have a place to stay, so that I could get my life pointed in the direction I needed to go. Some, who I lived with, were supportive. They didn't understand everything I was dealing with but they didn't look for an explanation. They simply wanted to help.

Others, simply would not understand and expressed that everything (the flashbacks, night terrors, phantom pain, fear) was all in my head. On more than one occasion, they told me to "Get over it", "Stop dwelling on it" which is all well and good if all I did was fall off my bike the first time I tried to ride it, without training wheels. Instead, I had survived 28 years of trauma. Everything that had been my life I was told to, simply, forget. I don't blame them because they didn't know. How could they?

I don't ask for the memories. I don't try to remember. It happens. Just like, you may get nostalgic over a toy or a show that you watched, growing up, I get unpeaceful reminders of a traumatic past. I did not ask for the things that happened to me. I did not ask to get stabbed in the leg. I did not ask to be tied up because I tried to run from a bad situation. I did not ask to be put in the situations, that made me feel unsafe and look for a way out, which resulted in my injuries. 

This poem was written in response to those who think that PTSD or C-PTSD is something that we decide when it ends. If I had the choice, I would never deal with those horrific memories that words just don't do enough to paint a clear picture for you. Just like then, I don't get to have a choice in what I experience. Only, how I react to the memories, the pain, the aftermath of a flashback that I can't control. I get to choose what I do with these experiences and I choose to let you know that whatever you are going through is real. I believe you. You are not alone.

25 Things I Wish You Knew: I Have a Therapist

 

I have a therapist.

There, I said it.

I wish it were that easy. I wish you knew that I have a therapist and I wish you accepted it without judging.

I grew up in a family where talking to anyone was against the rules. I understand their paranoia, considering they were the ones who were causing the damage. I went to a church where they didn't believe in cognitive therapy because "that's what God is for". Although, I do agree that we are to depend on God, would you also say this if I went to a doctor for a broken bone? What about for the flu? Cancer? Diabetes? Is it okay to depend on doctors for just the stuff you can see and depend on God for all the stuff you can't?

A counselor, or therapist, is like a doctor...and a teacher. They figure out what the problem is, diagnose, talk about treatment options (which can include medication) and then teach you how to live/cope with your condition. They teach you how to take care of yourself so you can live a full and successful life

Now, there are some therapists who give the rest a bad name. I've been to a couple. My first one, decided to unleash the volcano of everything I had been through and then told me that my time was up before I could learn how to cope. That was a very dangerous time. I put myself in the hands of people I trusted for 48 hours because All of it was too much for me. My second therapist was also not a good fit for me. The first session, without knowing really anything, they told me that the circumstances I went through were a result of my choices. News flash: I didn't have a choice and if I did, I was a child...I didn't know I had a choice.

My third therapist was right for the time I was with them. They helped me sort through the current situation, which was that I was living with an angry alcoholic who was abusive on a good day. We didn't really deal with all the stuff that happened before because my living situation wasn't safe. 

My current therapist, I have been going to for over two years. Once a week, if possible. They are the ones who diagnosed me with C/PTSD. We don't go over every detail of the past. Some things come up, but I don't talk a lot about the past because I'm still trying to not have flashbacks and when I think about those "events" it is easy to get sucked back in. That kind of therapy isn't part of my treatment. We mostly focus on HOW what happened effects my daily living and what we can do to get me to a full and successful life. My therapist helps me understand why I do some of the things I do and helps me set more realistic goals and expectations for myself. They give me a little push when I seem stuck on something for too long. They help me figure out solutions that will work, and a lot of it is trial and error. They will tell me the truth, not just what I want to hear, and that is why I trust them. I've been angry with them before. I'm sure I frustrate the life out of them, at times. That's okay.

In therapy, just like in physical therapy, I do all the work. My therapist guides me, makes suggestions, tells me what I should probably avoid doing (if I don't already know) and adds 'weights' when I am ready. My therapist is great and is in tune with what I need. They know when to push and when to back off. There is a balance. They are good at it, I am not. I am all or nothing and they let me know what is okay to take away or add to get that balance so I can succeed. I am their work. However, in the end it is my choice of what I do. They can't make me do, or not do, anything (as much as they would probably like, sometimes). They don't brainwash me or influence my memories. If memories are brought up, I'm the one who talks. They listen and help me cope with that flashback or overlay.

We have talked about medication that could help. We have talked, multiple times, on that subject. I am not on medication. That is my choice. My therapist does not push it because they understand why I choose not to. When everything gets too much, that conversation comes back up and we hit the same conclusion: no medication. I understand that medication can help and that it does help a lot of people. My mother is a drug addict. I am doing okay without them, and yes, I know I could be doing better. I don't condemn anyone who takes medication. If it helps you, that is awesome! There is simply a larger battle, for me, with medications.

Part of my therapy is also learning the things I never was taught: how to deal with people, how to take care of myself, how to get out of survival mode, how to let my guard down, how to trust, who to trust, how to know when something is really wrong (because everything seems wrong at first). I have a difficult time with good contact with people because I was hurt, deeply, by people for most of my life. I am learning.

I wish you knew this and could accept it without judging me. C/PTSD is a condition I will have for the rest of my life, likely. The symptoms are manageable but I have to learn how to manage them. Those who say, 'no' to therapy also tend to ignore the fact that a problem exists. So, those people won't be able to help me live a full life. I wish you could see the difference between two years ago and now. I wish you could see how far I have come and understand that I could not have done it on my own. Left to my own devices, I would not be close to anyone, because I wouldn't know how to teach myself.

Where is God in all of this? The answer is everywhere. I believe that God has given my therapist the knowledge to help me, and others, with living. I go to church and experience the unconditional love that God has for me, through my family there. I read my Bible and I am constantly finding verses of encouragement when I'm struggling with my symptoms. I listen to the radio, and a song comes on that I need to hear because life is tough but God is greater. I am constantly reminded that God is there, has always been there and will always be there. Just like we go to the doctor for a physical ailment, I'm going to a therapist for a mental one. There is no difference. God is still there and God gives me the strength to make the changes I need to, in order to live a full life that glorifies Him.

25 Things I Wish You Knew: I Don't Sleep

On a good night, I get somewhere between four and five hours of sleep, according to my fit bit. It is pretty accurate. Even if I go to bed at a decent hour and sleep in until 6 a.m. (which never happens), there are large gaps where I am awake. 

There are many times where I wake up for a minute and fall back asleep. Those times are part of being hyper-aware, which I talked about previously. When the air kicks on or off, when our dog plays musical chairs...I wake up, just long enough to convince myself that I, and those in my environment, are safe. Everyone has these kinds of disturbances in their sleep. I remember most of mine.

I get night terrors, every night. I can't tell you the last time that I had a good dream. I can't even tell you the last time that I had a nightmare unrelated to my memories. Is it sad that I am jealous of people who can even have "normal" nightmares? Running late for work, wedding day nightmares, stuck back in high school...Not me, not even the night before my wedding. I have multiple nightmares a night, but it only takes on night terror to keep me awake.

There is a difference between nightmares and night terrors. A nightmare is like watching a scary movie. I can turn it off if it gets to be too much. I wake up a little tense, a bit on edge but after listening and watching the doors and windows, I can fall back asleep. These are mild memories. I lay awake for fifteen to thirty minutes before I drift back off to do it again.

Night terrors are not just a movie. For me, they are flashbacks that are, often, more intense because I can't ground myself when I am sleeping. I wake up believing that whatever was going on, is still happening. It doesn't feel like a memory. My brain, and sometimes my body, relives the 'event' and the pain. When I finally begin to come back, I am too afraid to go back to sleep. So, I get up. I move, because moving helps me ground. I find something to distract myself from going back, because the thought of loosing control, even for a moment, is terrifying.

I have improved. I used to operate on two hours of sleep, on average. I accomplished a lot, but it was effecting my mood, the intensity and frequency of my symptoms, and overall health. I don't know that my sleep patterns will ever be what I need. I hope they will.

I need you to know that if I look tired, I am. I cannot take naps because too much goes on when I am home, alone, during the day. If my husband is home, I might take a nap because then I know I don't have to listen to every creak and croak of our old house. I need you to know that I am okay. I have operated on less, for years. This is not new to me. I need you to know, so that I don't have to explain. I need you to know because on the days that I have been up since 11:30p.m., I will struggle hard.  I will struggle because the less sleep I have, the more intense my symptoms. I need you to know that even though I struggle, I will be okay. I'm just tired and may need a little more space or help. Please, let me be the one to tell you which one I need.

25 Things I Wish You Knew: I am Hypervigilant

 

This is one that I briefly touched on, in a previous post but I truly wish that you already knew and understood. I am hypervigilant and it is exhausting.

Hypervigilance is the state of heightened alertness, along with behaviors designed to prevent danger. It can seem like paranoia but there are differences between the two. Hypervigilance is not a condition, it is a behavior that can be caused by trauma. The person is more sensitive and aware of their environment and the people in it. When someone is hypervigilant, their inner mind is constantly anticipating danger and so the person is on high alert, ready to react to any danger.

These dangers can be physical, repeat of a traumatic event or even the way someone is read to avoid relationship dangers. Hypervigilance is merely constantly being on-guard and prepared for a multitude of possibilities.

I do not think that anyone is "out to get me". When I am in the grocery store, I don't believe that the little old lady trying to reach tomato paste is there to harm me. I am aware that she is there, with her grandson and about four feet away from her, is a college-aged woman with a cart full of T.V. dinners. I am aware of a conversation happening around the corner about what tortillas are better and I am aware of any and all exits of the aisle and the store. I am aware that I am aware of all this. I know, logically, that there is no concrete reason to be on edge, but I find it impossible to be able to relax.

In familiar places, that are not crowded, I feel less on guard. However, I am still on guard. I am aware of the location of all exits to any store, any house, any office, any vehicle, and even church. I am aware of where I am and what route is the quickest way out, if something were to happen. This route changes with every step I or someone else takes. 

I am aware of objects in the area. I am used to not having anything on me to defend myself and I have been in situations where I had little effect on someone far bigger than me, on my own. I can fight and have had to fight. I'm not proud of it, but I am here because I fought. So, I am aware of objects and quickly decide of at least three that I could use to defend myself or someone else. 

In this room, my mind immediately goes to: the coffee table, the floor lamp, a stone coaster, and a book. I am aware of the front door and the two windows in front of me. I am aware of the back door, the garage and the windows between. I am sitting here, safe, but fully aware and ready to react if the situation became dangerous. This, in my, very familiar, home. I feel safest here. This awareness increases the first step I take out of that door. It increases with every person added into the environment. 

I am sensitive to people's tones, startle easily, am aware of weapons someone is carrying, overanalyze situations. I am restless. My watch may have gotten used to the increased heart rate, by now, but if I check my data, I can see the spikes and I could probably tell you what was going on at that point. 

I don't sleep well because I'm on guard when I sleep, too. I wake up when the air kicks on or turns off. I wake up when I hear our dog move from the couch to the chair. I wake up when the kid with the loud car drives down the street or when the train blows it's horn at 2 a.m.. I wake up when the birds start chirping (if I sleep in that long). I wake up when my husband turns over, when he gets up to use the restroom, when he crawls back into bed. I wake up when our dog whines softly because he wants to go out but doesn't want to wake us I wake up if I think I hear a door open or close and when the house creaks because the wind is moving through the attic. We have a fan on but it only drowns out so much and my awareness is heightened to a point that even when we are awake, I can hear soft things (like the dog whining, softly) and my husband can't. 

The intensity of my hypervigilance increases in: crowded environments, arguments and shouting, uncertain situations, reminders of past traumas, feeling abandoned, and observing chaotic behavior. These things happen all of the time. There is no way to avoid or stop all of these, all of the time. So, I deal with it the best way I can.

I wish you understood this, so when I say that I can't go to the mall, or go into WalMart or the grocery store, or some big event, in a place I am not familiar, with people I am not familiar...I wish you understood so that you could lower your expectations for me. I wish you understood so that I wouldn't feel guilty or angry with myself or the situations that brought me here because I have CPTSD and there are some things I just will not be able to deal with at a 'normal' level. 

Being hypervigilant is overstimulating. When I get overstimulated, I get overwhelmed. When I get overwhelmed the intensity of my symptoms increase and I struggle more. When I struggle, I withdraw and seclude until I feel safe enough.  I wish you understood that this may never change. Although there are times where I feel less on guard, I am always ready to act.

25 Things I Wish You Knew: I Don't People Well

The very first thing that I wish I could make everyone understand about me, is that I don't "people well". I don't know that I'm an introvert. Honestly, I like the idea of being around people and enjoy the company of those I am close to. I feel energized when I go to church more than when I watch the live stream from home. I enjoy holidays with family, friends and neighbors. I feel energized when I am able to go to gatherings at a friend's or neighbor's house 

So, maybe I'm an extrovert, in my core being. I remember, when I was three, my family lived in Okinawa. The people there loved kids, wouldn't do a thing to harm them (most people anyway). Once, my family were at a park near one of the beaches. An old man came up and wanted to show my brother and I some sea shells. I went off with him, to the beach. My parents freaked out because they were from America where you have to hide your kids. We didn't go far, my parents could have seen us from where they were, but the fear was instilled, and probably rightly so once we returned to the states.

The point is, at one time, I wasn't afraid of people. 

Life went on. Abuse happened behind closed doors and the doors were always closed to my house. My brother and I were homeschooled, so we were hidden even further from the world. I didn't have anyone to talk to as the abuse worsened. My brother, who once tried to protect me, suddenly started to join in and I lost my only person. The people who were supposed to protect me were the ones causing the harm. It didn't stop after the divorce, it grew into a different monster.

After the divorce, I was sent to public school. I was excited to be able to make friends but there was so much that I couldn't talk about. So, I didn't. When the trafficking started, I hid in the back of the classroom. When I reached out to people who were supposed to heal, I was hurt worse. I stopped trusting people. 

I like the idea of being around people. However, the act of being around people is overwhelming. I listen and observe while I wait for all of the sirens and red flags to fade away. But if one person enters the room, they all go off. I read every movement, every tone... I have to know where everyone is and what they are doing because people were the ones who caused the damage. People I should have been able to trust to protect and nurture me, didn't.

So, I am afraid of people. I am not shy. I am observant. I am quiet, until you get to know me. Then, when we become close, you see me. I don't know how to get close to people because I was abused, I was sold and I moved around a lot (7 high schools). I made one close connection and lost it, tragically, because I tried to get out of a horrific circumstance. I am afraid to be wrong about the people I trust. I am afraid to be right about the people I don't. I don't know how to form relationships because I am afraid of being vulnerable. I am afraid that if I am vulnerable, the people I love and trust, theywill leave me in the dust. So, my mind thinks, it is better to have solitude than to try and get hurt again.

Once, I drew a sketch of how I see myself, except there were so many holes and bandages that you couldn't tell it was me. All you knew, was that this person had been through so many battles and they didn't look as if they would survive another one. If I keep people at a distance, I can have a head start at the first sign of trouble. 

I want you to know this, and that I need time away from people to ground myself. Being around a lot of people, or even a couple people, can be over-stimulating and can lead to an increase in the intensity of my symptoms. So, if I say that I need a few minutes alone, or walk out of a crowded room...don't take it personal. I will return when I feel I am able to. Mornings, are consistently the time that I need to myself. I take at least an hour, after waking up, for quiet and solitude. Most of the time I am waking from a night terror, so I need that time to truly ground otherwise being around people gets more difficult.

I am trying to change my survival thinking into one that helps me thrive. I just don't always know how, especially when it comes to having healthy relationships with people.

25 Things I Wish You Knew: Introduction

 

No one talks about mental illness. No one talks about the fact that something isn't quite healthy in your thought process or in your reality, like they would talk about cancer. It makes people uncomfortable to talk about it and so, we don't. If we don't talk about it, how can anyone know what you struggle with? How can anyone know that what they are doing effects you in a certain way? How can anyone know to help so you don't have to fight so hard, alone?

If I had cancer, I would feel like I could tell my family and friends. If I had an off day, they would understand. They would take me to my treatments, if I was unable. I wouldn't be shamed for getting the treatments I needed so I could live a fuller life with them. Some of them may even research new treatments or natural ways to help with the effects of treatments and cancer. 

I don't have cancer.

I have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD). Only those who are closest to me know. They know, but we don't talk about it or how the trauma has effected my thought process, my way of living, my perspective. It is the constant elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge. 

I don't have cancer.

I feel alone, most days. This makes it difficult to have a "good" day because I feel as if I am not allowed to talk about my struggles. My struggles are different than, I feel, most people. I am trying to learn how to get out of survival mode and to start thriving. How can I do that when I cannot have a conversation and know which part isn't quite right? 

I don't have cancer.

It has taken me a couple of weeks to really understand what I want to do, here. I have compiled a list of 20 things I wish you knew about me and C/PTSD. It is still growing, which is why I say 25 things. It may grow beyond that. Each one will appear in a different post, some may meld together. I don't want to simply list them for you. I want to help you understand each one.

I don't have cancer. I have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. 

The Flip Side

 

You may wonder what it is like to have this kind of mental health issue, in the same way that I wonder what it is like to not. We are just too afraid to ask each other. There are a lot of categories, a lot of challenges. Hardly anything is easy. I don't remember the last time anything came easy for me.

Maybe, nothing is easy for anyone. Maybe, everything is hard and there is either the right or wrong kind of difficult. Staying was hard. Ignoring was hard. Facing the reality was hard. Leaving was hard. Trusting was hard. Standing up was hard. Not saying anything was hard. Starting over was hard. I can't see where this, any of this, would be easy for anyone. Life is hard. Maybe, that is why God made a companion for Adam (Genesis 2:18). We were never meant to face life alone.

So, maybe having CPTSD is just like not having it. Except, there was a lot of the wrong kind of difficult to get here. I can't see where choices are made easy, by anyone. How long does it take you to decide to go into a store? Do you ever hesitate with anything? Does the unknown make you anxious? Have you ever avoided someone from your past? Is there a subject that you would give anything to not talk about? Is there ever a scene on T.V. that makes you squirm or feel empathy on a deeper level? Is there a certain scent that takes you away? 

Maybe, we aren't so different.

I am middle aged, and I've only recently begun to learn how to cope with the difficulties of life. Things that a child is taught: how to regulate emotion, how to show emotion, how to accept the fact that not everything is a red flag. I am learning to trust. To not hide. I am learning to depend on a few people for a few things. I am learning to read people and not assume the worst intentions. I don't know how many times I ask my therapist or close friends questions and learn that most people already know the answer because someone showed them. Some of my questions, no one seems to think about because they never had to. They were taught, so it comes natural. What comes easy to others is a challenge to me.

Every coin has two sides. The flip side of this coin is that what comes easy to me is often difficult to others. I learned to survive at any cost, at a very young age. So much, that surviving became my life. I didn't know how to live. I'm learning. I know what to do and can remain calm when faced with a difficult situation that a lot of people I know would freeze up in. Surviving, comes natural to me. I can withstand the storm. It is the calm that makes me anxious.

PTSD Vs. CPTSD

 Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is becoming commonly known. It is a mental condition that people may experience after triggered by a terrifying, isolated, event. Although the event is isolated, the condition can last months, or years, after the event occurs. 

Symptoms of PTSD include:

• Nightmares
• Flashbacks, intrusive memories
• Avoidance of triggers (things or situations that bring back memories of the trauma)
• Heightened reactions
• Anxiety
• Depression

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD) is a lesser known condition that people who experience  chronic, repeated trauma over months or, more often, years, can obtain.

Symptoms of CPTSD include those listed above as well as:

• Lack of emotional regulation
• Changes in consciousness (disassociation)
• Negative self-perception
• Difficulty with relationships
• Loss of systems of meanings
• Distorted perception of the abuser

Both conditions require professional treatment, medications and support. These conditions can't be expected to go away on their own or within a matter of weeks. Sometimes, these conditions pose lifelong challenges. However, symptoms can be managed and survivors can learn to enjoy good quality of life.

Victim, Survivor, Warrior

Today, I want to talk about three words that people use to describe others who are going through or have gone through some tough stuff. When I say "tough stuff" it is all relative. What may be tough for someone else may be easy for us to deal with. Something that is not so easy for us to deal with may be small to someone else. This is why I ask that we are respectful to others and their experiences because we are all traveling on different paths and some of us may be trying to find our way back to the main road. It isn't an easy journey and we are all at different points, even if we are not dealing with "tough stuff" right now.

The words I want to talk about, today, are: Victim, Survivor and Warrior.

Now, I understand that these words hold different power and meaning for others so how I see them may not be how you see them. I would love to have a conversation, in the comments below. This is not about my opinion and if you identify with one of these words more than the other, that is perfectly okay.

The first word is, Victim. The dictionary defines the word as "a person harmed, injured or killed as a result of a crime, accident, or other event or action; a person who is tricked or duped." For me this word is one that I would use to describe someone who is going through a bad experience or as a past tense. One example: someone is in a situation where they are being abused. They are a victim of abuse. I have used this word to describe myself, before, and I use it in past tense for myself, now. I was a victim of abuse. To, me, this word is stagnant. It makes me feel stuck and on my journey, I have been able to find my way out of those situations. Some were very difficult to get out and if you find yourself a victim, please seek help.
Here is a link to the National Domestic Violence Hotline. Or call: 1 800-799-7233 or TTY: 1-800-787-3224. They also have a blog that has some educated reads.

The second word is Survivor. A survivor is someone who has survived an experience. We tend to use this to describe someone who has survived a traumatic event(s). This word has more power, to me because there is movement. When we use this word to describe ourselves or others, there is a forward movement. I am a survivor of abuse. I am no longer a victim because I am no longer in that situation(s) and I somehow managed to survive. If you are here, whether you are still in a situation or are out of it, you are a survivor. You are amazing! You have seen some tough stuff, you may still be dealing with some tough stuff but you are a survivor.

Here is the number for the 24 hour Crisis Hotline of The Samaritans 1-212-673-3000   I have called this number in the past and they really helped me through rough nights. If you are struggling with negative thoughts, depression, anxiety, I encourage you to seek help. The hotlines are free, except the minutes you use on your phone. They don't judge and are truly there to help us. Sometimes it just helps to feel heard.

This brings us to the last word: Warrior. Webster's Dictionary defines this word as: "a person engaged or experienced in warfare broadly; a person engaged in some struggle or conflict." This is a word that I have recently started using in reference to myself and others. I think that this is my favorite one because, at least for me, there is always a struggle. Sure, I was a victim. I survived. But, "survivor" always made me think that that was where it ended. There wasn't supposed to be a struggle, I was doing something wrong because the event(s) were over but I still felt the impact. My battle with the darkness has not ended. I fight anxiety, depression, self-doubt, flashbacks...so many things I struggle with every day. The word, Warrior, is so empowering to me because it encompasses all, past, present and future in a way that I don't feel ashamed. I use this word to describe myself and others who are currently going through some tough stuff or dealing with the aftermath (which can be just as tough).

Most days, lately, it feels like I am merely surviving. Somedays I feel like I've conquered the world, until I look around and see everything I'm doing are old survival tactics I used when I wasn't safe. I am safe, now. I am learning how to live.

We are strong. We have seen some tough stuff. Wherever you are, on your journey, you are here. You are strong, even when you don't feel like you are. You are amazing! You are a warrior.

I found this quote, last night and I wanted to share it with you:
"You are stronger than you think. You have gotten through every bad day, in your life, and you are undefeated" - Unknown

This is not the end of your story and you are not alone. Celebrate the fact that you are here!

Whisper Back

Hello, and welcome to "Whisper Back". If you know me, you are wondering, right now, why I'm starting yet another blog. After all, I have started three: a crafting blog, a cooking blog and a writing blog. I stopped writing them because it has all been done before. How many crafting blogs are out there? Anyone can find any recipe, nothing is secret anymore (except the one I want to find that has dates in it), and writing about writing just seemed...unnatural. 

They are things that I enjoy but they aren't me. It seemed that everything had been done before. Everything, except this. This blog is about my experience as someone who has Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD). 

Why this?

There is a stigma about mental health. We don't talk about it. So those of us who have experienced trauma or have a mental disorder, are left feeling alone because we are not allowed to talk about it. Mental health makes the general population uncomfortable. I, myself, am tired of feeling so alone in my daily battle with the memories. I have seen the darkest parts of the world, first hand, and no one wants to talk about that either. So, I'm going to talk about it, because you (the world) needs to know about the darkness and it's effects on real people. 

This blog is  one person's perspective. I don't speak for everyone and what you have experienced may be different than mine. The symptoms you have and the battles you face, may be different that what I battle. That's okay. Not all battles are the same. Just know that you are not alone and it is okay, and necessary to talk about it.

One of my favorite quotes, I actually have it on a shirt, inspired the titles of this blog:

"The devil whispered to her 'You cannot withstand the storm.' She whispered back, 'I am the storm'."

This is me, whispering back, despite everything inside of me telling me to keep quiet. If I can help, even one person, this will have all been worth it.