- 1. a deeply distressing or disturbing experience
A persons trauma can be triggered by 100s of different things and there are multiple types but yet we don’t talk about our triggers/trauma too often.
I’m no psychiatrist so I’m not here to go through all the types with you but this week, I decided more so to tell you about mine.
On December 5th, it will have been officially a year since my mother gained her wings.
Crazy that my trauma began months, even years before that particular day.
I suffer from “complex trauma” which of course using context clues means multiple traumatic events that for me personally include medical trauma, and traumatic grief.
I’ve always hated hospitals (outside of loving Greys’ Anatomy) so going through this experience did not make it any better.
I often applaud my sister and my step dad for being with my mom more than I had time to simply because I was not strong enough to see her in such a sickly condition. It still amazes me to this day how many people never even knew she was sick because her spirit hid it so well.
The only thing you leave the hospital with is bad memories and high ass bills. I can’t even look at Parkland the same and not hate it because of what it took from me (figuratively speaking).
Sometimes I can’t even walk down a long hallway or ride an elevator without replaying my movements of her last hours. Crazy how the mind works.
Then there’s traumatic grief, which as you can imagine, is the worst.
The triggers are so unpredictable that dealing with this aspect is done daily.
It can be the slightest thing that triggers a memory and next thing you know my whole mood is shot.
From a song on the radio, to a movie, smell or even a hairstyle. There seems to be memories everywhere I go.
Then the thoughts don’t stop and boom, sadness takes over that can sometimes lead to depression and then I’m stuck!
So, what do I do?
Honestly, I sing lol. In my head, out loud, in my car…. wherever I’m at I’ll bust out in a song I feel that’s best appropriate to change my mood.
I also see my therapist about once a week if my schedule permits and she’s one of the best decisions I could have made.
I think about how my moms would hate to see me sad. How she never wanted me to feel bad because of her condition and would always say, “you can’t stop living, because I am dying. I raised you to be too great for that.”
That alone was a reality check but a much needed message to say the least.
So overall I guess I deal with my trauma by taking myself out of the thought and reminding myself of my purpose. Moms raised me to be great and I can’t sell myself short just because her physical form has left me.
Shit happens and life stand stills for no one. Sometimes the things life throws at us are realllyyyy messed up but we have to find a way to work through it and overcome the bad days.
They say trouble doesn’t last always… I hope they’re right.