A New Box Full of Trauma

I was thinking I could close the chapter on therapy and roll on down the road.

As it happens, 6 weeks of caring for grandma and working full time with one day off has pushed my stress levels back up to anxiety – producing, and I found a whole lot more trauma that hasn’t been addressed.

I never know what my brain will read as a threat. I am realizing that if I have a lot of stress I tend to start spinning with anxiety, and if I don’t have a way to back out of what’s causing me stress, something will inevitably trigger me. It feels like it comes out of nowhere, but if I think about it, I’m almost anticipating it. Because PTSD brain looks for trouble, looks for negative, likes to be destructive… Ugh.

Then I have to get to safety and quiet so I can start calming down. There’s no calming down when there are perceived threats around me.

Basically, I go home.

And try again tomorrow.

Protect Your House

I’ve watched a few people I know make poor choices in the last coupe of weeks that put people (and animals) close to them at risk. They let in harmful things because they weren’t willing to recognize and assess potential threats, and it cost them. In one case thousands of dollars in vet bills and in another the dissolving of trust and family.

I’m not sure what causes it, because I protect my house. I guard my close relationships carefully and try to protect them – sometimes even from the chaos in my brain.

For me, when someone or something is important to you, you don’t put it at risk. You don’t ignore the warnings and the intuition that harm is imminent. And if you do, that repair work is on you.

With PTSD I’ve had to work hard to understand this, because my brain reads and misreads threats all the time. I can become my own threat when anxiety becomes too much to handle, and I perceive a lot of things as threats that aren’t.

I’m trying to keep my responses balanced. Needs more practice.

Enough, For a Year

A word has stayed with me over the last year as I’ve endured one trial after another. Not one I chose or a “word of the year”, rather one that came to me, that I’ve grappled with, that expresses the complexity of my experience.

Enough.

It is used in different ways in English. It means a few things to me.

First it was that I’d had enough. How much could a person endure? I’ve since learned not to ask that question. Then I wondered if I could do enough, if I had the capacity to do what was required of me. I’ve struggled with believing I am enough, that what I offer and what I can do is sufficient.

There aren’t many aspects of “enough” I haven’t contemplated, worked through, worked around and sought to understand. I’ve looked at the concept expressed in Scripture, linking the idea of fullness and completion to the concept of “enough”. It’s notably part of Jesus’s teaching on forgiveness – how many times do you forgive? Essentially, “enough”. He said 70 x 7, but those words were symbolic, not a literal 490.

I’ve been so challenged by this word. But I think the challenge is past and the practice is present. To live with “enough”, peacefully.

I’ve had enough.

I have enough.

I am enough.