The days and weeks leading up to the anniversary of June 11 are miserable. I start to hear every knock on the door in my mind that I have used to shut out the flashbacks. Every demon who lives beyond that door what’s to come out and play. They want me to experience every sound, loss and pain all over again. They try to work their way through my bones so I will be defenseless when they decide to attack. There are wounds that will never show on my body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds. You may see my smile, love, laughter and faith but what you don’t see is what is hiding deep within me. The “monster” that is relentless at trying to destruct everything in its path. You don’t see the flashbacks, insomnia, Neuro fatigue, brain fog, exhaustion, depression, triggers, anxiety, paranoia, pain, stress or fear. This “monster” is very good at hiding and I’m very good at playing cover up.
I now know how to hide my “weirdness”. I had someone point it out to me enough that I had to learn how to shut off and escape from the madhouse that is inside my mind and I learned to disconnect so I can look calm and peaceful. But in reality I am dead inside and I am just keeping the “monster” at bay. I’ve learned lots of tricks so I can come across as somewhat “normal”. The fear and insecurity that lurks within myself begins in the feeling that I have no control over what is happening to my body or what is happening with my emotions. PTSD creates a hair trigger for emotional high jacking. Something triggers me or I have a random flashback and just like that my body is high jacked. It’s terrifying. It’s also lonely because it’s hard for people to grasp that I don’t have much control over it and it is hard to explain to those who don’t deal with it. I can try to control my surroundings so I can stay calm but that’s about it.
I strongly debated on whether or not I should share my writings and my story. One reason is because I’m scared that if people only read my writings but never get to meet me than they will think I am insane. They will picture me as someone who can’t function. But that is simply not true. They will never realize that I am a normal woman who just has a LOT on her plate or like someone once told me “I don’t have a plate, I have my own buffet.” 😃 which is very true. But I decided I had to look fear in the eye once again and continue on with sharing my story because having an untold story inside of you is extremely painful especially when it is a story that has the possibility of helping so many others who are in the same situation as me or the possibility to help someone who is struggling with something less major but just needs that kick in the pants to realize you can do this. To realize they aren’t alone in whatever battle they are fighting. Don’t give up. A major benefit of writing out my story is it has been very therapeutic. One of my goals in writing is I want to be able to describe the best I can what I have been through and what I go through every day so people can have a better understanding of me. As well as the bag of tricks that comes along with me including my severe traumatic brain injury and PTSD.
Finding my purpose:
There has been a joke among the people who have been around me during my recovery that “I go big and I can’t take the easy road.” It’s funny though because I don’t see an easy or hard road. I just see the path that God has put in front of me. I know with every obstacle, loss, betrayal or pain I have dealt with on my path to recovery, God will use to make something great. There is a reason why I have gone through what I’ve gone through. There is a bigger purpose for me. God will make beauty with these ashes, I am sure of it because I am already seeing some of the outcome. Beneath every survivor is a broken person who had to learn to get back up and to never depend on anyone. Survivors know that the only person who can save them is themselves. The greatest tool a human has is their mind. I, as a survivor, have learned how to use the power of my mind to get me through the impossible. With my writings I no longer have a secret deep within me. I have a story that is ready to be told.