A Hero Stepped In

I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to replace the light. Wrong.

I’m pretty used to doing things myself. While it would be ungrateful and selfish on my part to claim that I don’t get help and support, I often don’t have what I need. People see competence and assume I can handle it, because I mostly do. I don’t see a choice, and asking for help often seems unnecessary because I can usually figure it out.

I meet up with my business partner every Saturday morning to walk several miles and talk business, the world and gossip. It’s great fun, and I pick up bagels for his wife and I on my way. He doesn’t eat gluten so I usually get the side eye, but I live for Saturday morning bagels. Client’s Brother, who I will call David, has had a lot going on the last few days, and we finally got to catch up last night. He asked if it was too late for me to come over and I said yes, because bagels and because I had early morning plans and because I was feeling a bit skittish after a couple of days of not really knowing what was going on or how I fit into things. Laken, your advice was great, I was just supportive and held myself in check a bit. It paid off, because I counter offered to come over this morning with bagels after walk and talk, and it was well worth being supportive and understanding and not reacting based on my worries for a couple of days. We had a lovely day together, and stayed in a couple bubble.

Until I left and he noticed I had a headlamp out on my car.

It has been very cold here and the wildlife are out frisking around. He lives a bit out of town and was concerned about me driving home at night with a light out, so he dug around under my hood until he figured out how to remove the burned out light. I had just enough time to get to the nearest car parts store to get a new one, and I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to replace the light.

Wrong.

A couple hours later, after I had called to let him know neither I nor the guy at the car parts store could figure this out, he had removed the low beam light and all of its housing and wires and whatever and put it all back together with the new bulb. In the cold. In the dark. With a manual that was not nearly as helpful as it could have been. He didn’t once complain or get overly frustrated or say anything negative to me, he was just happy that I was safe and he could do something for me. Same way he’s calmly knocking down my walls, taking care of me and making me think that whatever magic it is that we have could actually work out.

Flashbacks in the Rain

I almost died in a car wreck that happened in the rain. For the most part (and thanks to EMDR and a lot of therapy) I don’t really have problems anymore when I drive. When I do, I have coping skills that work well. So today was a pretty big surprise when I was driving in the rain on my way to a meeting and started having flashbacks, not about my car wreck, but about the day of my brother’s accident. Clear as anything were the memories of getting the call from my mom, picking up his truck, sitting in the ICU waiting room unable to pray and barely able to hold it together, leaning on the prayers and shoulders of friends.

I’ve rarely had flashbacks of my own trauma, much less that of someone else. And while that day was traumatic for me, it hasn’t had nearly the impact that my own trauma has.

As I began to write this post, I also began to ask why and to process what happened this afternoon. I’m dreaming again… I’m processing again… I’m resolving trauma again.

I am done being afraid of the hold the past has on me. I’ve survived this much this long, and I can deal with whatever else boils up. But this was interesting, because as much as the flashback experience while driving on slick roads was not pleasant, it didn’t shake me. I’m now more curious about it, about where it came from and why that day?

I dream when I’m relaxed or when I am processing. Emotions, events – they all get run through my dream cycles in full color and epic drama. I don’t dream the exact thing, I dream versions of it, or nothing at all related. I started dreaming again this week after a long time off. My resting heart rate is slowly dropping, I’m a little more calm during the day and now memories are emerging that probably haven’t been dealt with. The human brain is fascinating.

Am I excited by this? Nope. Am I afraid of it? Also nope. Gonna deal with it and move on…

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Bone Deep and Mind Breaking

‘Tis the season for joint pain.

Pain, you make me a believer.

I’m a summer girl, if for no other reason than hot weather doesn’t cause me joint pain. I inherited the family curse of old bones in a young body, and I can sit around with mature members of society and chat aches and pains with the best of them. They never believe someone my age can know how they feel, but since I can predict weather changes based on my elbows and hands and predict the overnight temps based on my knees, they eventually come around to accepting me as one of the wise. Or at least one of the chronically inflamed.

Add the prospect of months of constant deep joint pain to my neurological disorders and you get someone who hates winter. Me.

I finally broke again yesterday. I hit my limit of stress and went over the edge into nausea, dizziness and headache. Am I getting sick? No. I have PTSD, and the stress overload I’ve experienced in the last two weeks sent me over the edge again. The nausea is not completely new, the dizziness was. Thankfully I was able to hold it together to work with a couple of clients, and my mom and my brother kindly drove me where I needed to go. I was not about to drive in that state. Could I? Yes. Was that the best thing for me and everyone else on the road? No.

It would have been better if, when I got off work and got my hair cut, then grabbed some crafting supplies for a project I’m working on for a charitable organization, I had popped a Xanax and gone to bed. Just be done with the day and the stress and sleep it off. But I am so determined to not let the negative part of my brain control my life. So I texted a friend to see if I could catch a ride with her to Bible study and she gracefully didn’t hesitate. That support network? It’s everything on the days I can’t.

I took my knitting because it helps me stay present in group discussions, and knitted my way through tackling Jonathan Edwards’ writings on Charity. It was challenging, and it was good. The woman who hosts us in her home had made a spiced tea and cookies, and she has such a calm, loving presence. Toward the end we shared prayer requests, and I opened up about my struggles, about trying to come to terms with my new normal, that there are always barriers to living the life I want to live, that I have realized I will never be healed and I will live with this for the rest of my time on earth.

I live in pain. Every waking moment is hell because I have no hope that this life will ever be what I want, that what has happened to my brain will subside and I can live free from the demons in my head. I expressed that, and was received with love. One of the women in our group said that what I was saying was exactly her daughter’s experience. I found so much comfort in that, that someone understood. Those that didn’t understand met me with love and compassion.

That moment of vulnerability? It opened up so much love for me. It added women to my circle and to my team in struggling against and with what I’ve been dealt. I have gotten really ignorant responses from church people about my condition and what I do to try to heal. Last night was not that, and I was so comforted.

It is so fucking hard to be vulnerable when the person you were is ripped out of your hands and you’re trying to find your way again. But damn is it sometimes worth it.

And Client’s Brother messaged me all evening, showing a lot more interest than I expected.

When you live with chronic pain it can be hard to be thankful. But today I am so, so thankful.