Going in a Little Different Direction

For the past few years, I have been randomly writing about healing and the ways I cope with life. After spending some time thinking about what to write (Which is why I haven’t written in so long). I have come up with what feels to me to be a good plan.

I have decided to write about my healing process in a book. I will post the essays here as I write them. I will probably not put the whole book here, just some of them. It is not my intention to talk about the actual events but how they have affected my life and how I move through the world. I hope that some may find these helpful.

So here goes…

Here is where everything begins, in my head. That sounds like the all-encompassing phrase that people use to explain away something they don’t understand, “It’s all in your head.” Well, yes, it is in my head, but it is also in my body.

From the time I was born until I was twelve years old, I experienced trauma. My trauma started when I was born and or shortly after that. I spent the first twelve years of my life being raped, beaten, tortured, and sold. It is not a pretty thought, and it was an even worse experience.

There was physical trauma as well as emotional trauma. And sometimes, all that past overlays my present. Sometimes I hear things or see things, and all I can feel is the past. There are times when the anxiety becomes so intense and the need to escape it so overwhelming that I have to find a way to release all the pent-up adrenaline.There are times when the depression overwhelms me to the extent that I have only pain in my chest, and no matter how many people tell me that they want me to stay around, the pain is greater than all their voices. But I am still here and still finding joy; sometimes, I have to look really hard to see past the darkness.

I am pretty sure my brain developed differently than it would have otherwise. I respond to crisis differently than some people. In an extreme situation, I have your back and will have everything organized and ready to roll. There is not question that I know what to do. I lean into the crisis and make things happen. I am a rock.

However, if I get a flat tire, I am a complete mess. I haven’t any idea how to move from point a to point b. I usually cry or call my husband and wait for him to come and fix it. I know in my logical brain that I know how to do this. That I can and have changed tires in the past. But the anxiety and fear that I had held in check for so very long refuse to go back into the bottle now that they are free.

For a very long time, I did not have the anxiety levels that I have today. I would go day to day and do things, even though it was hard. Now looking back, I know the those feelings I was having were anxiety. I also know that while I was growing up, fear was not something I could show. There were no loving arms to hold me and tell it would be okay. There was only me holding it together and trying to keep my young siblings safe. I usually failed at this, but not for lack of trying.

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