Recovering from surgery has brought me a good bit of not only physical pain but emotional pain. I have realized that my almost addiction to have to be doing things and going places is a disguise. Also, being a mom of two I am always on the go attending to something or someone. Busy is good because it keeps me distracted. I really have to be intentional about relaxing or I will easily run myself down. I’m always running from being alone even though I sometimes desperately crave solitude. I can’t work or get anywhere with out my crutches. So I am stuck sitting and feeling so many feels. This familiar feeling just sitting in the bottom of my chest. I have cried so much these past few weeks. It takes hindsight to again realize…maybe I’m depressed. After so much therapy the past few years, I had learned to take control of some of my emotions and triggers before they became one monstrous shit show. I have been taking Prozac to help with my depression and symptoms of PTSD for a year now. I fought for so long and had two really bad depressive episodes before finally giving in to trying medication. This depression had me so low that I had stopped taking care of myself. Just basic things like showering and eating became insurmountable. The draw to the safety and comfort of laying in bed usually got the best of me. I was losing my ability to parent properly. I fought through it and it was the most excruciating pain I think I have felt. I threw myself into all different types of therapies in the effort to get help. I built a support system of a few different professionals around me. I remember when I began going to therapy and reading books on trauma I thought ,”Holy shit this healing journey is going to take me years if not my whole life!” The baggage that my abusers handed me is going to take me a lifetime to unpack, yeah real fucking fair. The tools I have to learn and the space I have to cultivate within myself to be able to thrive as a human being after trauma just seemed almost unattainable. Slowly with a lot of work I felt better. I have enough space now that I can witness the thoughts and emotions and not let them always take over. Each time the spell doesn’t last as long and I can regain somewhat of a center. These days though I feel as if am carrying all the sadness and worry of the world in the pit of my chest again. This familiar feeling of the world crashing around me. Damn anxiety and depression you sneaky sinister bitches. The tears just come and come. They flood out of my eyes and down my cheeks. Like a dam broke loose. It is odd because when I was aware I would be out of work and recovering from surgery for two months, I had a feeling that I would be feeling a lot of feels. My intuition was right. Now I am mostly sitting on my ass all day scrolling through my Instagram feed looking at all the beautiful nature I can’t explore yet. One of the vital components to my recovery so far and I cant do it. No yoga, no hiking, and no exploring. It certainly feels like the sun wont shine again at this moment in time. This black cloud has been following me for weeks and it wont fuck off. My brain just begins to make all of these assumptions and stories that confirm my beliefs. The world is a scary place and there is so much pain. It can be so very hard to hold this pain when it feels like I could drown in it’s sea of sadness. Healing is just that way, I guess. Things can come up that seem to be laid to rest. I am still haunted by the man who abused me and robbed my life of so much safety, love, and peace that I deserved. It has been 19 years since the first time I was abused sexually and he still haunts my dreams. Flashbacks still happen. Its like being a young girl stuck in a grown woman’s body. I have to remind myself in those moments I am safe and an in adult body. For so long I felt like I had been able to move past constantly being triggered by flashbacks from being sexually abused. Three steps forward and two steps back. That is how it feels and it is hard to accept that healing can be so not linear. It is so scary to feel those feelings. I am trying to recognize that I have been here before and that if I hang on the sun will shine again.This is the deep dark work and I won’t stop fighting for myself. I have to face these deep scary feelings and find a way to hold myself like the parent I needed when I was younger. One day I hope I can look back at this and feel stronger. Writing it out helps. Thanks for reading!
Image of a Blue Poppy I took while strolling around Longwood Gardens.