Trauma Thoughts: Unedited

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I am not fully healed from the trauma I endured. (And why should I be?) Or perhaps I should say, I have not been freed from the effects of my trauma.

I kind of hate saying “my trauma”. Why is it mine? Why do I have to hold it? I didn’t want it to be mine. I don’t want it to be mine.

I don’t have flashbacks and shake and cry and have debilitating body memories….well, not as much as when I was in college, at least.

But things can subtly affect you, you know? Sneak into your thoughts and your actions and your decisions and your reactions and your choices without you even realizing because you just think that’s you and your personality and your preference. But maybe it’s not.

How do you untwine it and pull it apart and cut the right threads?

How do you know what’s you and what’s not?

I feel like a teenager every time I write or talk about this all.

It’s almost harder now, in that it’s not simply (it wasn’t simple) speaking the words and being released and moving on. It’s smaller and more intricate and less obvious now but it’s there. 

Just because you’ve “healed” doesn’t mean you’re healed. Doesn’t mean it’s gone. Doesn’t mean just because you talked about it once, you’re fine.

When things are happening and before you’ve talked about it, everyone is in full support to listen. But once the story has been told, the secrets have been released, it isn’t over. Sometimes you want to, you have to, say it again, over and over. But you feel dumb and silly. Sometimes people even say, “You know you’ve told me this before, right?” And you know, but you need to keep talking about it. You need to go through it again. You need to set it free again and again.

We replay and discuss our happy memories all the time so why not the hard ones?

Solstice 2020

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I’ve posted about the Winter Solstice almost every single year.

It has always brought me great comfort. Yes, it means we head into the winter, which for many people represents cold and darkness. But actually, this Solstice is a turn toward light.

December 21 is the shortest, darkest day of the year. But the next day, and the next, and the next, we begin gaining minutes of light every single day. And after a few weeks, I always notice – oh my goodness, it’s staying lighter out later.

This year we NEED light. We need hope. We can’t bear any more darkness. And so, on this day, cherish this piece of information: this is it. This is the darkest it’s going to get. We made it. We are headed towards the light.

Towards the Light
(author unknown)

By moonlight,
or starlight,
or in the sun’s bright rays,
I journey,
guiding my way
by keeping
to the light
as best I can.
Sometimes all seems dark,
then I remember
how the poppy turns its head,
follows the sun’s passage across the sky,
then rests in night’s cool shadows,
bowing in thanks
to whatever power
makes the stalk
stand straight and strong,
drawing deep from its roots
a wine dark love.
In moonlight,
the garden glows,
silvering the poppies.
And even by starlight
you can tell
shades of darkness
if you try.
So do not lose heart
when vision dims.
Journey forth
as best you can-
bloom when you are able,
rest when you must,
keep faith,
keep always
towards the light.

Reaching Out 101

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How many of us desperately want to connect, want to have a sit-down serious conversation with someone, want to talk about our fears and hopes and worries and secrets and stories, but we just don’t know how?

Once we’re in the environment, our mouth and our hearts open and we talk. But initiating can make us feel anxious, unworthy, shy, tongue-tied, or all other things.

So, if you are sitting there thinking, “I would love to talk to this person about issues in my relationship” or “It would help so much to tell someone about my struggle with alcohol” or “My anxiety is through the roof and I want to vent”, but you’re stuck or obsessing over how to get the ball rolling, here is what I suggest:

Simple is best. If you are like me (well, more like how I was – I have improved significantly in this domain), you might be stumbling over the perfect words, rehearsing them over and over, not wanting to sound too needy, not wanting to bother anyone, and so and on so forth. And before you know it, it’s a month later and you still haven’t said anything.

So, keep it simple.

“Hey – I’d love to chat for a few at some point. Could we find a time?”

See? No obsessive apologizing, no worrying about how much info you’re giving, just straight and to the point.

You don’t have to put disclaimers, you don’t have to apologize, you don’t have to self-deprecate (“I know I’m a mess” or “Sorry I always bother you”). Also, let me remind you: it is not your job to worry about burdening or overtaxing the other person. Your job is to ask for what you need. Their job is to be honest about what they are able to do. If someone isn’t free and can’t talk, it’s on them to set a boundary and say so.

Keep it simple. Take a breath. And press “send”.

On (not) loving your body

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I have had several conversations about bodies and body love (or lack thereof) lately, which usually means it’s somewhere out there in the collective consciousness of the world, which means we have to talk about it and address it so people aren’t just dealing with it alone.

Many, many people struggle with body image. That’s a broad statement. It could include anything from body dislike, disordered eating, eating disorder, not loving what they see in the mirror, trying to attain a different body, etc.

Both personally (friends/family) and in the wide stream media (professionals, campaigns, etc), body love is preached. “Love your body!” “Bodies come in every shape and size!” “There’s no weight limit on beauty!”

And that’s super well-meaning. The idea being, you don’t have to be so hard on yourself! You can just love your body, however it looks, whatever size it is.

Except what I’ve been hearing from others is that sometimes it’s not that easy – and sometimes those well-meaning pieces of advice turn into (unintended) additional pressures. Because here is what some people then feel:

I don’t love my body.  I hate how much time I devote to thinking about it and obsessing over it. AND I’m supposed to be loving it. I can’t even do that. I suck. I’ve tried for years and I just can’t love it.

The pressure to love their body actually makes things worse. Because they don’t, and they can’t, and then they judge themselves for it and feel bad. So rather than them feeling self-love, now they feel even more self-hate.

And I get it.

There’s a large movement to embrace your postpartum body. “Love your body!” “Your body did amazing things for you!” “How lucky are you to have grown a child in your body!”

Again, all from a good place. The idea being, you shouldn’t be expected to have the same body you had before you grew a baby and gave birth. The idea being, be gentle with yourself. You don’t have to “fix” your body. You can love your body now.

Except what about when you don’t?

3 months after I had Maya, I fit into all my clothes again. My body went right back to where it was, and that’s just a fact. When pregnant with Maggie, I gained more weight. Due to some issues and complications, I didn’t exercise. I had an emergency c-section that healed weird and left me with thick, ropey scar tissue that’s itchy and uncomfortable every day. Diastasis recti left me with a bulging stomach. Nearly a year later, I still don’t fit into most of my pants because I have more fat and skin on my stomach, thighs, and butt, and that’s just a fact.

And I don’t hate it. But I DON’T love it. I know people who love their soft skin, love their new size, love their scars and stretch marks, and that’s wonderful. It really is. But it’s also okay that I don’t love it.

I love my daughters, and I am thankful every second of every day that I grew them and birthed them, and I wouldn’t change anything that happened for anything. And I’m not obsessing 24/7, constantly counting calories, spending 100% of my mental energy on it. But. I wish I had my body back.

The thing is, that’s okay! I shouldn’t feel pressured to get my pre-partum body back, but I also shouldn’t feel pressure to love my new body. Neither serves me.

I guess what I am saying  is: maybe the goal doesn’t have to be body love. If we get to that state, that’s wonderful. But if we don’t, that’s okay. It’s like a ladder and there are different rungs. Maybe the highest rung is body love, and the lowest one is body hate. But there are rungs in the middle. Like I said to a few people last week, maybe it’s okay to be on the “eh” rung or the “take it or leave it” one or the “it’s okay” one. Maybe if we just accept that’s where we’re at, we wouldn’t be putting as much pressure on ourselves one way or the other and we wouldn’t constantly feel like we’re failing one way or the other.

(I also just feel the need to say – if you are dealing with significant mental health issues because of your body image or eating disordered behaviors, etc., this is something different – please, please don’t accept where you are, and don’t accept that has to be your life. It gets better, I promise. I just mean, you don’t have to get to the “I love my body so much!!!” point to be considered “healthy” and “okay” and “better.”)

Loving our body is great. But be gentle with yourself. If you’re on a different rung, as long as it’s not the very very bottom, it’s okay to be there. It feels horrible to have an unattainable goal. Make it more realistic.

I feel “decent” about my body, AND I wish it looked and felt the way it used to, AND that’s okay.

Daily Babbles: 9/20

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Thoughts that floated through my brain today:

  • I no longer habitually put people on a pedestal; but sometimes I’ll get butterflies in my stomach before I meet with someone, or read and re-read an email I’m about to send to someone, and I realize it’s happening without me even realizing it.
  • There is so much I learned in high school or college classes that I don’t know anymore and that’s so sad.
  • I look at the old newborn diaper I keep as a reminder and can’t even believe that at the scary beginning of Maggie’s life, it was too big on her.
  • One of my secret dreams that I don’t think I’ll ever do but dream of doing, is publishing a memoir or anthology of little posts or essays.
  • I miss moments of newborn snuggles but I don’t miss the fact that newborn snuggles were in lieu of showering, eating, exercising, changing clothes, brushing teeth, sleeping.
  • I have a (short) post in the works about the mental load that mothers carry.
  • I have visual-spatial synesthesia which has always been part of me but also I think is why I am so sensitive to the passing of time, growing up, aging, seasons changing, etc., because rather than solely experiencing it, I can SEE it.

Daily babbles: 9/18

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Sometimes I think if I don’t write I’m going to explode. Or implode.

I’ve felt like that for a while.

I don’t have time to write anything, let alone profoundly string together carefully-edited words with the intention of reaching and moving many people.

So I haven’t written.

But I just….times are hard. Everything is hard. And when I write I feel the black tar crap stuck inside of me shaking loose and I can breathe a bit easier.

I need to breathe.

So I thought maybe I’d just write a few thoughts. Nothing big, nothing profound. Just a few daily thoughts in my babbling way, and see where it takes me.

Read it, or don’t. It doesn’t matter.

Today:

  • I stepped outside at 6:16pm because I hadn’t had a single second to myself where I could just breathe and not be thinking working helping mothering cleaning. I could’ve stayed outside forever.
  • The thought of the cold weather coming makes me want to cry. This fall brings up so many traumatic memories of being sick and Maggie’s birth. Not to mention the lack of light and I hate hate hate being cold because it reminds me of years when I was always cold and couldn’t warm up. And don’t get me started on the darkness.
  • I’m so sick of people using gratitude to dismiss others’ feelings. People can be exhausted at work or with parenting and still love work or parenting. That’s so dumb to say otherwise.
  • I never really thought that gender roles were so ingrained in people but they actually are.
  • The only way I could be exercising is to sacrifice sleep which I’m already depleted of. I need more time.

What are some of the thoughts/experiences from your day?

Stream of consciousness

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No edits, no beautifully-crafted blog post, just honest snippets of thoughts as they are:

—

I am having a hard time. Everyone’s having a hard time. I am not unique and yet I am. Everyone’s circumstances are different and yet everyone’s circumstances are the same.

—

I go through periods of positivity and gratitude and periods of deep despair and anxiety. Sometimes within a day or even an hour. I try so hard to be upbeat and positive for the girls, but sometimes it’s all too much and I can’t. And then I kind of hate myself for it.

—

I never went back to work after maternity leave, because school closed. Instead, I transitioned from maternity leave to Working Full Time while Parenting Full Time. This is an impossible situation, and I am well-aware I’m not the only one in it. I miss my students, my coworkers, my work routine, my normalcy.

—

I feel horrible at my job when I can’t answer emails or get things done because I’m with my kids. I feel horrible as a mother when I can’t give my kids my undivided attention because I have to get work done. I feel horrible as a wife when I have no energy left at the end of the day or when I take out my frustrations on my husband.

—

This is not a pity party.

—

My friend and I talk about this so much: you need to find a balance between acknowledging your feelings about the situation, along with focusing on your privilege, but without letting knowledge of your privilege incite self-judgment for having a hard time.

It’s a fucking battle every second of every day.

This is all so hard.

And.

I am so lucky and privileged.

Feel your feelings with awareness but without judgment.

—

But the judgment comes because who am I to be frustrated that there are so many dishes and so much laundry and so much stress and so many temper tantrums and diapers and so much work to do when there are people with actual problems I am so privileged I am such a brat stop whining stop complaining I’m a horrible human.

—

My biggest fears as a child were that something could happen that could cause the world to end or loved ones to die. Everyone told me those were just unfounded fears.

They’re no longer irrational fears.

—

Getting outside helps. I don’t even need warm spring days (though that would be heavenly), but I need sun. I need to get Maya outside and I need to be outside.

I feel the best when we are outside and I see the trees, hear the birds, dig in the dirt, and see that nature is continuing on, see that there’s a world out there.

The days that I wake up to gray and rain my heart sinks and I can’t breathe again.

—

I am having an increase in food and body thoughts.

—

It feels like all I do is pick up toys, wash dishes, cook, and clean. Nurse, play, parent, work. Lather, rinse, repeat.

—

It has been really nice reconnecting with old friends.

—

I feel so worried for people’s mental health after this trauma. Because this IS a trauma, for so many.

—

My heart breaks for Maya on a daily basis. She is old enough to understand something is wrong and different but not old enough to understand why. She is more than fine, she is so privileged and lucky and FINE. And yet. She is sad and confused and her life has been completely shaken up and I hate that. She asks for her friends and school and to please go somewhere, Mama, and when will everywhere stop being closed? I don’t want this to be her life but I know she’s fine but I also don’t like it.

Again. Who am I to complain.

—

I’m tired. Every minute of every day. Maybe it would help if Maggie would sleep well at night. Maybe it wouldn’t matter.

—

I think the only way anyone can survive this is for us to all share our thoughts and feelings. It has been so nice having multiple people reach out and share what’s going on for them. I think it’s making people more emotionally-aware and looking to connect on a emotional level where maybe they hadn’t in the past.

—

Often times in my life I’ve felt alone in my anxieties and worries and obsessive thinking and despair at things. I no longer feel alone because everyone else is feeling it, too. Which makes me sad, and also grateful.

—

I am profoundly grateful for social media as a means for connecting with people during this.

—

Will I ever feel safe in the world again, even when we are able to go back to a quasi “normal”? Will the anxiety I have around getting sick, that I had before this even started, ever go away? Will my children live the lives I am hoping for them? Will we all be okay?

—

Now. Right now. One moment. One breath. Try. Try. Try.