The Gift of Going First: On PTSD, Grief, & Healing

The gift of going first – On PTSD, Grief, & Healing

I’ve experienced some physical violence in my life – or the threat thereof. One of these periods in my life was not too long ago. But what happened after that, was one long continuous case of more fight, flight, freeze, or fawn – until May of 2022, April 2023, and August of 2023 – when I lost my dad, brother, and then as if life didn’t suck enough, my beloved dog Abby. Between these bookends (my home in disarray and the deaths of my dad, bro, & doggo), my life has been moving at a breakneck speed through some wild and wooly times. I have PTSD. Literally. I’m exhausted.

I have this dream though. It’s motherhood – whether through step parenting or adoption or surrogacy, I’m determined to be a mom. I have a dream of this modern and not so modern American family. I have this dream of my hospitality business that occupies my time when I’m not writing. I have this dream of a man. He’s not what I planned or pictured, but he can take me anywhere he wants to go.

The dream is my man, my kids, grandkids (I hope), and our family. That’s pretty much it – that’s the dream. I don’t care about anything else. I’m determined to find healing in pursuit of those dreams. So here I am – exhausted from the grief and fighting my way through the chaos of memories that never healed. The week of the 26th of September & the 2nd of October, was the lowest I have been or will ever be. The thing about grief and PTSD is that they don’t ask for your opinion about a good time to visit. They just show up at your door with their baggage and refuse to leave until you sit with them.

Those two weeks took me to memories of hiding in my bedroom, with the dog, while someone raged outside my door, threatening me, after hurting my dog. I hid until he ran out of energy and the crisis calls calmed me as much as they could. I don’t know why those two weeks took me back there, but they did. I have some theories. I remembered things those two weeks that I’d forgotten for several years – like my NOAA weather radio being smashed into a ton of pieces (not by me) one evening – in a fit of rage. The talk of NOAA weather radios in relation to our recent hurricanes, somehow brought that back. I remembered the sound of the wall being destroyed while I was on the other side of it – afraid of what would happen next. I remembered the dog being hit and kicked before I could safely get us to the bedroom. I locked us in with a piece of furniture in front of the door. Of course, I thought he’d just destroy the door and wall anyway. And then after months of fear, it was over as soon as it started. By August, I’d cleaned up my home, patched the wall, replaced the door, moved to an apartment, prayed for healing, and moved on…

Or so I thought. The recent hurricanes (not sure why) brought those nights of fear back – with ferocity. I wanted one simple thing in the aftermath of my memories returning. Just one. I needed one little thing. And I was shut down. It triggered something in me that I didn’t see coming. I was already waist deep in grief. But the flash point – that moment when I felt caught in overwhelming memories – came in an instant. But the fog didn’t clear until Saturday the 5th (days later). That’s when I put all the pieces together. It’s when I realized how far I’d pushed myself. since those scary, long nights when the fear was all I knew.

But that brings me to my point. There’s no way out, but through. There’s no way out – except to go through it. One way or another, the trauma, grief, etc., will show up on your doorstep. What we choose to do with it determines what the path to healing looks like. We can only run so far. Until we feel it and face it, it stays there repeating, revisiting, and finding us again and again – until we stop ignoring it.

“Every time you take in the sense of feeling safe, satisfied, or connected, you stimulate responsive circuits in your brain.”

― Rick Hanson

If you’re in the beginning stages of a healing journey or you’ve thought about going to therapy but are resistant, one thing I can tell you for sure is that the only time I get anywhere on this journey is when I feel it – whatever it is. My anxiety skyrockets with loud noise and chaos. My neighbors are chaos. Or were. When they’re wild and I can’t get a bit of peace, I let myself feel the anxiety and identify where in my body that anxiety was living. In doing so, I instantly remembered the times of chaos I’d lived through, including the incidents above. It’s as if I were there again. But instead of running from what it felt like, I lived with it, letting myself feel and remember. Since then, there’s been a slow return of peace. That’s what I mean about there’s no way out, but through.

I haven’t gained even a little bit of peace without letting myself feel the chaos. There is hope in the midst of grief. There is a hope that healing is now increasing. There isn’t any healing without facing it head on, however. If you’re running from it or afraid to dip your toes in the water, I promise you it’s worth it – no matter how hard.

It won’t get better until we feel and face it. I’m pretty good at finding resources for myself. If I can help you find resources, send me a message.