Trauma… There’s a word that has been popping up in the media a lot lately. It is also a word that has been a part of my story since the first time I went to counseling. In fact, (not surprisingly), it was the actual reason for that initial counseling. But what is trauma…
Trauma is defined on the internet as “a deeply distressing or disturbing experience; emotional shock following a stressful event or a physical injury, which may be associated with physical shock and sometimes leads to long-term neurosis.” That is good… That takes into account the event and the effects. While not as complete, I have defined it for years as “unexpected chaos”… Either way, the event seems to happen with no warning and leaves nothing but destruction in its wake.
If statistics are to be believed, most of us have gone (or will go) through some type of traumatic event at some point in our lives. Some of us will go through several. Honestly, I had never thought about trauma being a piece of my life until that initial session, when my first marriage with its abuse and chaos was defined as traumatic, as well as the loss of our first child and the uproar between the families that ensued. Through the years, there, also, have been other “unexpected chaotic” events which have left their mark.
Each time, I have gotten back up – shaking and stumbling, but determined to keep going… and (seemingly) each time, once I have gotten back up and felt like I had my footing again, someone or something has pulled the rug back out from under me… again.
I have often bragged about the healing that Bruce brought to me and my kids… How his infinite patience and unconditional love allowed us the space to learn how to trust again… how to live again… how to be ourselves… (in other words) how to heal.
The day before Bruce died, he had worked all day. That night, as he ate his dinner, we sat and talked and made our plans for the weekend. We kissed goodnight and snuggled in the bed before falling asleep. To my mind, there was nothing to warn us of what was about to happen in just a few short hours. But happen, it did. Unexpectedly… in the middle of the night, I was awakened to the awful sounds of Bruce dying.
I struggled at first to grasp what was happening, but once I did, my survival instincts kicked in… I called 911. I unlocked the doors. I started CPR. Then, when EMS arrived, I stepped aside and watched as the reality of what was happening (or not happening) started to sink in. I watched the line on the heart monitor remain flat despite all the attempts to save him. I watched as our world fell apart and crumbled at my feet.
There is no doubt that for me this was the most traumatic event of them all…
I feel that I had barely started to heal from all that came before. I had just started to feel confident in who I am. I had just started to understand that adult relationships are supposed to be about balance, mutual respect, and compassion. It wasn’t about power plays or rescuing the other person from their consequences or fixing their world to suit them. I was just starting to grasp, embrace, and live my life with these principles when suddenly… Bruce was gone.
Once again, just when I was starting to stand confidently on my own two feet… just when I was willing to venture out as my own person, that rug was viciously ripped out from under me.
Almost immediately, I felt as if I were thrown back in time… I couldn’t seem to find any of that healing and confidence I had gained with Bruce. Perhaps, I hadn’t learned how to find that within myself yet… Or… maybe (because of the crisis created), I reverted to old patterns of survival. If I am honest, I think it was a bit of both.
I wanted to make Bruce proud. I wanted to “do it right”. I wanted to regain all that I had learned and put it into action… But I couldn’t seem to find my way. You see, I wasn’t just lost in this world without Bruce – I had lost myself.
In the decade since that awful night, I have worked hard to get back to a healthy place again. It has been a slow process… a long journey. There have been times when I thought I couldn’t do it – when I thought maybe “this” was just the way I was built. But… (thankfully) there have been more times when I have focused on Bruce’s legacy and realized that I am stronger than I think… If he believed in me, then I can too.
Throughout this time, there have been other traumatic events… Times when that dang rug was pulled out again… and again… and again… Each time, I have thought, “How do I do this without Bruce… It seems like I am always doing these things without Bruce.”
This year has probably been one of the hardest… It seems like one event right after another – piling up like a cord of wood… And this month even more so, as this round of rug pulling seems to be throwing my very way of life into chaos.
This time, though, is different. I have spent this year working hard on learning to “be” – to be kind, to be honest, to be genuine, to be healthy, to be hopeful, to be… me. I have also found a solid space within my own faith where I am confident, supported, and at peace…
Peace… That is something I have not felt in a very, long time. Sure, the slogan of this blog is, “There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered.” However, learning to live by that slogan has taken some time (and constant hard work).
Yet, after the initial shock of recent events, I really am at peace. Don’t get me wrong, things feel a bit scary and out of my control right now, but I am confident that there is a reason for what is happening. I am choosing to believe that there is something even better on the other side of this situation… And here’s the best part… One way or the other, I have to deal with this. My choices are to do it feeling like a victim with no control in my own life, OR to do it with the confidence that I will be okay. I have chosen the latter… I can do this!
(And while I am absolutely doing this for me, I, also, think Bruce is smiling down and so proud!)
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘be’ and to be comfortable with that… however it looks.
Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.
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