Walking my SOUL back to where the Love lives… inside of me

 

“You Cannot change your past, but you can change your perspective.” ~ Last Measure

I began this post, prior to a beloved relative passing away. I decided it was then best to set aside my pen and allow their death to settle within the open crevices of my heart.

In doing so, the depression I was already masked in, gave way to my building anxiety and my PTSD was triggered. I thought I was doing myself and everyone a favour by retreating from social media and delaying this post.

The truth is: Nothing will stay hidden forever- as the truth always comes out.

                                             Poem from Canadian Poet Rupi Kaur ~ Homebody 

So instead of dancing around my emotions, I chose to release them. Turns out, that happened to be in the midst of a laundromat, while I pulled my clothes out of a dryer. I found myself weeping in a mound of towels. Knowing I had stepped on the tripwire of my grieving emotions, I did my best to gather my things and take off to the city streets. Once in my car, I felt a panic attack ensuing and  had to remember my breathing techniques from prior therapy. 

For death is to me what darkness is to light- a suffocating shadow that threatens to overcome.

In amongst the sudden losses of valued life, there are the unexpected tragedies that I have come into my life.

Having to explain the connection between the three that intertwine one another- death- PTSD- grief is like giving a painful testimony, in front of a packed courtroom. This I would know from my past experiences.

Yet, I am also a believer of the light that can overcome the darkness and rise above all things nefarious.

For each of us, we respond to loss in our own individual ways that helps us to process the grief and heartache.

One of the most inspiring stories of a man, a true survivor of war and torture, was Louis Zamperini. His story of loss, courage, PTSD and redemption were featured in a two separate books by Laura Hillenbrand, Louis Zamperini and David Renin. Also, the films Unbroken and Unbroken: Path to Redemption.

One film captured his resilience, the other featured his resistance, in dealing with his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The one thing we have in common; is going to war within the borders of our minds.

The recent passing of a beloved relative, was coupled with my PTSD. Prior to their death, I had been dealing with Night Terrors- a common symptom of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Night terrors are vivid nightmares, re-living traumatic experiences, which seem too real to believe, they are not. What follows in me, is a feeling of being ‘trapped in the moment,’ profuse sweating and extreme anxiety. I wake up struggling to breathe and re-focus on my surroundings.

I also awaken to feel I am living the night terror in real life.

This causes me to have a hypersensitivity to death and all aspects of loss, including intrusive thoughts and flashbacks.

Acknowledging it to myself is one thing…to openly take hold of the truth and share with the world is another.

Yet, if anything I’ve learned in the 11 years since being diagnosed with PTSD, is that there is Hope even among the darkest of nights.

“Around 50- 60 % of people in North America will experience severe trauma, at some time in their lives. One in 10 goes on to develop post- traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which is permanent in a third of the cases. Yet some people who have lived through major traumatic events, display an astonishing capacity to recover.”

This is where the light switch goes on. I am understanding that I need to be aware of what is happening in my surroundings. I also recently learned the hard way that in the midst of going through my bout of PTSD, I answered the phone to a dear friend of mine. Her voice, to me is, is full of reassurance and I was desperate to speak to her. Unfortunately, she was unprepared for my endless flow of tears, my pain and what I was enduring. To be fair, she called on the worst night of my mourning.

In wanting to impart some light, I had recently sent her some tea and a book of mine, which seemed ripped from the pages of my own tumultuous life.

For every word spoken in truth and opted for release, I sought to free myself from the darkness that I had made myself a prisoner of.

In having Bipolar and PTSD, I never claim it as my own- instead I share I have these illnesses- but I am not these disorders.

For me to walk into the light and share that I am seeking Counselling again, does not make me weak…it means there is still a huge part of me, which feels I am deserving of loving myself.

If anything in the reactive mode I am in, I am stepping up to acknowledge my hypervigilance, to speak up instead of shutting down and to breathe in the hope and light that comes with seeking help…that can save a life…my very own.

 

By TL Alton