Grey November, I’ve been down since July…
Over the last 2 years, I have worked extremely hard on my healing journey. Sure I tackled a lot of the big traumas while writing the book, but it was the little ones that have had a larger impact. The ones that seemed insignificant in the moment or, maybe were significant, but became deeply buried through the years that I had nearly forgotten about them. When I wrote this post back in July I didn’t think that 4 months later I would still be affected by the episode that occurred - but here we are.
The thing I’ve learned the most on this journey is that it’s not always the trauma itself that needs to be worked through, but the feelings associated with the trauma. Often times I will feel something in my body, a panic attack starting to come on, and it will take me a while before I realize that something was triggered. That is what happened in July. It wasn’t anything specific that happened, but merely a combination of circumstances that built up to a massive episode. This was then followed by more unfortunate circumstances until, now 4 months later, I’m just starting to really come out of it.
Over the last 4 months I’ve found myself leaning back into old habits - the ones that you try your best to overcome but then fall back into when all seems hopeless. And that’s truly how I was feeling… hopeless. I find that in times like that, the voice in my head that is beating me down, telling me I’m worthless and a loser and will be alone forever, sounds awfully familiar. When I’m in a good headspace, I’m able to confront that voice and tell it to fuck off, but after the events of that July episode, and the weeks that followed, I couldn’t fight back. It was like trying to swim against the current - I would make a small amount of progress and begin to move forward, only to find myself knocked back several feet… tired and defeated.
Now, however, it feels as though the sea has finally calmed and I can swim away from the tide that was attempting to pull me under.
I always have to remind myself that healing isn’t linear, but when I have these hard times that last for months, it becomes more and more difficult to remember that. I have to, quite literally, force myself to think differently. It had gotten to the point, earlier this year, when I was able to brush off a small dissociative episode and simply file away the trigger, but the last few weeks that hasn’t been the case. I’ve found myself dissociating more and more which has made every aspect of life harder. This morning on my drive into work was the first time in months that I was finally able to have that conversation with myself - why are we dissociated? (And yes I use a “we” when speaking to myself - it’s a coping mechanism!)
Like I learned 2 years ago when I started this healing journey, talking myself through these triggers, out loud as if I’m having a conversation with someone, is the best way to figure out the cause. Anyone who knows me in real life knows that the more I talk, the more likely I am to come to a conclusion about something. When you have no one around to talk to… you talk to yourself! I realized this morning that it had been a long time since I’d actually had these conversations which only made the last 4 months even harder. It got to the point during my drive this morning that I had to start really thinking about what I even did over the last few months because I couldn’t remember. That’s how I know that I’ve been so dissociated - the memories start to come back as I allow myself to move past the trauma and triggers.
I’ve done a lot of “reclaiming” in the last 6 years - places, movies, music, books - things that I wanted to enjoy and experience because I wanted to and not because someone else forced them onto me. It’s also been a way to replace bad memories with good ones. I think for the remainder of 2024, I need to reclaim myself - spend some time with me because I enjoy my company. Do the things I like doing because they bring me joy. In other words… FIND THE JOY AGAIN! I have let the stress of life and trauma triggers dictate my wellbeing and mental health for so many months now that I truly feel as though I’ve missed out on just enjoying being alive. Because at the end of the day, I am happy to be alive. There are always things I’m going to wish were different, but I only have control over so many things. I can’t control other people’s actions, but I can control how I react to them.
And I was catching my breath
Floors of a cabin creaking under my step
And I couldn’t be sure
I had a feeling so peculiar
This pain wouldn’t be for
Evermore
