Imagine this: You’re walking around with a backpack. Sooner or later, one of two things is bound to happen: in the first case, the bag is bound the break. Overextending and over-pressuring will cause a break in structural integrity. In the second, the bag doesn’t break but simply becomes too heavy to bear. This is what it’s like to live with trauma.
Still don’t get it? Let’s try again.
In this scenario, you’re playing a game of Jenga against a world of people. When you agree to play, you accept the risk. It’s easy to plan in the beginning, but near impossible to predict another person’s move. As time passes, you begin to lose structural stability.
This is a similar, albeit honest portrayal of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).
Excessive retrieval. Avoidance. Numbness. Hyperarousal. These are just four of the major consequences of PTSD relayed by popular podcast, Stuff You Should Know.
PTSD is life-consuming and can come with and without triggers. Despite common misconception, it isn’t just a feeling- it’s a chemical and psychological return to the trauma itself. The brain in trauma releases the same chemical cascade as it does during times of extreme stress. Simply put, your brain and body believe you’re back in a similar situation and prompt you into fight-or-flight mode.
Serious health effects, including, but not limited to: depression, anxiety, and a faulty immune system. Learning to be alone has been one of the hardest experiences. It isn’t the fear of being alone itself, it’s the fear that no one will find me. When I ended things, I told him that I felt like an observer in my own life. That was a terrifying idea- the thought of living inside the confines of my own insecurities. What I didn’t understand, was that this applied to my life in a much more wholesome way. I had been pretending like
You can’t pick and choose. We are the sum total of our experiences, both good and bad. I spent the better part of my college career pretending that what happened was inconsequential to my outcome. I am not strong despite it, I am strong because of it. Our reactions to tribulations teach us more about who we are than the situations themselves. Think of it like a slap. The less time it takes you to respond, the better off you are. Get up and fight again.
You can recover. You can repair. I haven’t quite figured it out yet. Presently, I’m working through it one day at a time, one self-defense class at a time.
It’s uncomfortable, but it’s a discussion that must occur. Consent shouldn’t be this inaccessible term applied only to one gender.
A box with no holes, the confines of your own stimuli.
You are sitting in class, counting backward.
The walls close in and your organs seem to press against your ribs, threatening to escape (explode).
She asks you what you were wearing. Questioning eyes through tortoise shell frames. What time was it? She nods, pen moving accordingly.
She tells you she feels invisible. Boys don’t see her. Men don’t woo her. You want to tell her that maybe it’s better that way. Maybe she’s safer. But that would involve explaining.
Bustling Fourth Avenue, the sun has just set, walking home from Fourth Avenue with an arm full of groceries. As I’m running, I mentally count the things around me to cope with my building internal anxiety (glass bottles included). A box of organic tea, a six dollar jar of coconut butter, a loaf of just-baked bread, what else? What else? I couldn’t remember, my mind was in a haze. Above me, streetlamps flickered on and off, I staggered on the unevenly paved sidewalks sandals clacking against the concrete.
I push a chair in front of the door, subsiding into my panic. I’m stacking boxes, most of them empty. Realizing this condition:
-Affects More People Than You And Most People Know
Think of re-experience as a cornerstone
-Doesn’t Have to Be Obvious to Exist
For all obvious symptoms, there are also silent compatriots, ones that are often dismissed as peculiar plays.
My hope is for the stigma around PTSD to change so that people who have this condition can be healed and set free.
Yes, when it pours it rains, but that tragedy is self-inflicted. It doesn’t have to be the end of the world. We can, however, choose our masks, and choose our power source.
I gave trauma no room.
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