Exiting Survival, Entering Trauma

Although I haven’t publicized much about my health recovery from chronic illness lately, I like to say that health is the sticky little piece of gum on my shoe. I’m working it out but sometimes it’s just easier to keep walking and deal with it later.

The Next Phase of Healing from Chronic Illness

On the physical front, I’ve made so.much.progress in the last 3+ years and am experiencing more sustained energy and a stronger immune system.

I’m still fighting mold toxicity and the recovery timeline is likely about another year which is the other “sticky” issue here.

At 41, and with not much time left to start a family, it's a seemingly insurmountable mountain. The risk for pregnancy is very high given my current, dangerous levels of mold toxicity—high for miscarriage and birth defects.

The solution is straightforward. The problem? I am paralyzed to move forward. I’ve entered a new phase that I’ve been totally unprepared for: PTSD. 

What Trauma Feels Like

As I exit survival mode and enter into trauma recovery, I’m acknowledging the pain I’ve experienced from the overwhelming journey, loss and physical wounds from this journey, combined with unresolved emotional and psychosomatic issues from my past.

I swing from angrily and emotionally over-reacting to normal life situations (triggers) to feeling completely numb to the world around me. Many days I’m in a fog or I retreat because I’m unable to cope. Although less common, I cry for hours because the depression is overbearing. I have a good counselor and support system but this winter the soul is harsh. Nervous system dysregulation is a struggle.

I firmly believe this is more complicated by a spiritual component. While not everyone shares this view, I know there’s a force pushing against everything God has designed me to do to build relational understanding through storytelling. When I’m sick, I retreat completely and that’s a victory for darkness. I consider Ephesians 6:12: I’m not fighting against my body, I’m fighting against a much bigger, unseen war that does not want goodness, peace, healing and love to prevail.

How You Can Help

In this update, I ask for three things, which are likely similar requests from other trauma survivors.

1) Prayer for complete emotional, physical and spiritual healing. This is deep work and my strength is waning.

2) That you kindly love and acknowledge anyone going through trauma.

3) Keep reading how you can support someone recovering from a traumatic incident (me included), whether short- or long-term.

PleasE Understand That Logic Doesn’t Work

If you know someone who’s struggling with trauma, please DO NOT INTELLECTUALIZE IT. Trauma is stored in the body—in the nervous system. It’s like a gremlin that rears its ugly head at the weirdest times.

We’re very aware our coping responses (anger, isolation, etc.) are abnormal, but we’re prisoners of our own bodies. You would never tell someone whose body was mangled in a car accident to go on a road trip and be shocked why they don’t want to get behind the wheel of a car and break down in tears at the very thought of it. The risk of an accident might statistically be low but the memory—the trauma of the accident—has not left the body.

Trauma Response > Logic.

HOW TO Talk To TRAUMA VICTIMS In Recovery

My best advice is to not over-personalize someone else’s trauma. By sensing the pain of others, we reflect on our own, and fixing others makes us feel good in an effort to escape our pain and achieve a false sense of control.

I’ve shared my concerns about starting a family with others, but it’s often met with disappointing responses—logical responses—and little understanding or empathy which only makes me feel more isolated and misunderstood. I’m not asking for a counselor (I have one) but when caring people suddenly offer dismissive solutions, it adds fuel to my trauma dumpster fire.

What I say: I’m afraid to start a family because my body will fall apart.

How people respond: You’ll be a good mother. Your body will be fine. A lot of women feel great during pregnancy. It will be ok.

What I’m really saying: After 3 years, my body is still not fine and I’m in despair because this has taken so much from me emotionally and physically. I can barely cope with life on the day-to-day, let alone care for something that needs me all the time.

At my lowest point, I couldn’t take a shower without crawling back into bed because that small physical act exhausted my autoimmune body beyond depletion. I was so traumatized from the physical pain, I had considered suicide. THAT is why the thought of having a child is traumatizing and why I’m afraid. Will this all fall apart again? And will this be the thing that finally breaks me for good leaving a baby at home with no mother?

What I’d love to hear: This must be really hard for you and I can’t relate but I want to let you know that I see you, I hear you and if there’s anything I can do to help, I will.

Sit In the Moment. It Won’t Hurt, I promise.

Our Western culture does not do well when it comes to lamenting and grieving with our friends. Our obsession with happiness is all-consuming. Additionally, our overconsumption of information has created an empathic laziness, clicking a quick “like” on a Facebook post to show we care enough but not enough to do anything more than that.

As trauma victims, it’s hard not to take it personally, but we understand that you don’t understand our pain and it’s confusing and painful for you, too. And, quite frankly, you have to focus on the issues of your life, too.

So here’s my invitation:

Sit in silence and “just be” with a hurting loved one.

Ask questions and try to understand the heart of the issue, NOT offer a fix.

If you pray, pray. If you serve, serve. If you encourage, encourage. If you listen, listen.

It’s enough. Trust me.