Today’s Hard Hitting Facts: Trauma is a mother fucker
Most of my life, trauma is a word that I only heard used to describe some sort of physical accident, something said in an emergency room perhaps. It wasn’t a word used in casual conversation. It wasn’t used in describing the reasons behind someone’s mental wellness much either. Did you even know that there are several types of traumas? Effects of trauma can vary from person to person. Acute Trauma results from a single stressful or dangerous event. For me, it would be easy for me to say I fall under that umbrella. Ragan’s suicide is my traumatic event. It seems as if it has literally changed my DNA. I am not the same person, but we’ll get to that. Complex trauma results from exposure to multiple traumatic events. The more I learn about wellness and myself, I know now that this is my category. I never identified some of the things I went through as trauma or that my whole life I’ve been able to keep it all manageable. I didn’t recognize my own trauma while we battled Ragan’s BPD. Ragan’s death really tipped the scales. It was my breaking point as cliché as it sounds.
Today’s Nitty Gritty: I don’t know who I am
I mentioned a change in DNA. Lemme nutshell the first 40 years of my life: A overly confident, smiling girl who’s also hilarious and fears nothing. I have been the life of the party my entire life. I have always run in a herd, no offense friends lol. But I have always been surrounded by people, either a house full of kids or a house full of friends. I don’t think I’ve ever been alone a day in my life. I had also never desired to be alone. I liked to host events. I used to live for it. I have hosted some amazing bbq’s, themed parties, and fancy breakfasts in multiple states. I had a big personality and even bigger mouth. Give me a room full of people, I was bound to be the center of attention. I also had never met a stranger, meaning there wasn’t anyone that I couldn’t talk to. But that person is no longer with us. To be brutally honest, that person died right when my baby took her last breath on Earth. I am left to figure out who I am, as I’m now sprinkled with social anxiety, PTSD, and depression.
Today’s Jam: What that really means
Music is the hardest. Yesterday we had a birthday/4th of July bash at my best friends. I was there all of 10 minutes and a random song on a random playlist took my breath away. I walked away about 3 steps to collect myself but panic was coming fast. I was bawling. I just said to her husband, “Can you please turn the song, please?” He legit ran to the music to change it. We laughed about it as I cried it out. I was with the people that mean the most to me, so it was easy to ask. It’s not always so easy. The night before I was watching Handmaid’s Tale and there was a death in an episode that was similar to Ragan’s. My anxiety had been high since then, its also a hard time of the year anyways, but after the music incident it was a struggle. We stayed longer than I thought we would though. I did what I could, so I will only look at it as a win. In order to win, we have to learn, apply and try. It’s hard to be the life of the party when music makes you cry. It’s hard host the best parties when crowds make your skin crawl. It’s hard to commit to events, when you don’t even know if you’re getting out of bed that day or not. You just do what you can.
Day by day we get better!