Why couldn’t I let go of the past?

 

PC

Before

Why couldn’t I let go of the past?

I tried to get over it by waiting; expecting time would dissolve it.

I tried to get over it by facing it. I re-engaged with places and people. I expected that creating new happy memories would dispel the old unhappy ones.

I tried to get over it by seeing a counselor. Counseling hadn’t seemed helpful before, but what did I have to lose? If only I could get myself to see it was OK, I get back to normal life soon.

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The Moment

“You probably experienced big T trauma. It changed your brain.”

Trauma? Me? I hadn’t been violently attacked or in an earthquake or war. It was a bizarre left-field thing for me to hear my counselor say. How was it connected to me?

And yet at the same time, it made so much sense. I needed to hear more. It was only a few minutes until our session was going to end. Should I mention to her time is up?

I stayed quiet. My desire to know more obliterated my need to follow the clock.

A dramatic and unfamiliar word. Yet strangely, it made me feel lighter and energized.

My journal from that day just says TRAUMA!!! I was too excited to write anymore.

When you have good news, you can’t help but share it. I ran to tell my husband, and I emailed a few friends.

“I’m traumatized! Yay!”

I wrote about it in our newsletter:

The emotional response doesn’t come from what might happen in the future. (Before I heard the word Trauma I thought my bad feelings were anxiety about the future).

It comes from what already happened in the past. My brain is tricking me into reliving the worst moments. This is why knowing things are safe now does not change my feelings at all.

My Fear response is not listening to my Logic.

The brain acts as if it is happening now, the same as it was then. And it doesn’t exist in the rational part of my brain, which explains why I can’t talk myself out of it. I’m not failing at getting over it, it is not over. It is still happening now.

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After

I noticed when I felt I was in danger.

I noticed I knew I wasn’t in danger, but I felt I was.

I noticed her and gave her a name. Now I could see her and explain her to other people. Mrs. Logic Blocker (Mrs. LB) is a mean woman in my brain. She sometimes disrupts the communication between Logic and Fear response.

I noticed friends could feel like attackers by using the wrong phrase. They triggered Mrs. LB.

I noticed too, these same friends could care for me in that attack. Instead of trying to calm me down or reason with me, they let my irrational outburst run its course.

I noticed nothing in my anxiety tool kit made any impact on Mrs. LB. It wasn’t that I wasn’t trying hard enough — they were the wrong tools. Awareness of her gave me relief overall, but I still had to ride out hours, days of fear.

I noticed Mrs. LB ran away and hid when I spent time with friends who made me feel protected and known.

These friends let me experience God’s presence through them, rather than quoting Bible verses at me. It felt like they were God’s stunt- doubles, although we usually call them Christian pastors.

Mrs. LB had no power against the safety I felt with them. Time with God’s stunt-doubles can dispel an acute attack and leave me feeling safe for days.

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Conclusion

The most significant point on my healing journey so far has been calling my issue “trauma”. I didn’t know naming something could be healing.

Finding out my brain was tricking me into feeling scared when I knew I was safe was a big “aha” moment.

Now I call it my trauma response, or Mrs. Logic Blocker. I’m less frustrated with myself now that I know the reason and anxiety tools are impotent.

I thought I had to try harder and I would get over it. Freedom replaces frustration when I notice my feelings of safety and danger.

It is not that I can’t let go of the past, it’s like the past won’t let go of me.

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Written in July 2021 for the prompt "Defining moment"

What A Sudden Diagnosis Feels Like

 

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay 

BOOM!

A new diagnosis blew our normal week apart.

There had been a bomb ticking but we didn’t know about it until it went off.

The threat of death suddenly joined us.

This new chronic condition in our family began with a swift diagnosis and treatment. Our other conditions have taken a year or more to work out, but this happened within 24 hours. There was no time for unsolicited medical advice this time around! We are so thankful for the local doctors here in Cambodia who saw the problem and took action.

I can’t quite write about it properly yet even though the situation isn't as acute as a month ago. I’m still tired and adjusting but on the path to long-term management.

This month’s A Chronic Voice linkup seemed like a good way to note down a few things from this season. It is still fresh but I can't yet zoom out and describe the whole picture. Having these 5 words lets me narrow it down: Processing, Relying, Retreating, Cancelling and Reframing.

Processing

Being in hospital with a family member was easier this time around. After being a counseling client for a few years I was more equipped this time. I didn’t know it would be like that so it was a nice surprise. I was noticing feelings as they were happening.

Relying

My husband is my favourite person to go through a traumatic medical transition with. We all rely on him at the moment to get through each day.

A few medical and pastoral friends have generously made themselves available to us. It's not an exaggeration to say they are saving our lives with their specific skill set and relationship to us and others.

Retreating and Cancelling

Since day one we had to cancel pretty much everything.

We haven’t done homeschool since then.

We didn’t say goodbye to a family who moved back to their country, we never got to have that last playdate.

We were getting ready to welcome a family moving back to Cambodia after two years but we also had to pull out of helping them. Hope we can catch up with them later on.

Just to survive I haven’t been really checking email or trying to keep up with friends overseas. I’ve been only messaging friends in Cambodia and family.

The first week we could only think hour by hour and were not aware of anything else other than our health. It was hard even to know what day it was or what we would eat. Our extended family shopped, cooked, looked after children. A few ex-pat friends dropped off food and books. I wore the same clothes for days. I only noticed when a friend dropping off food asked if she could wash our clothes.

I had been going to join a homeschool summit online. And I was in the midst of reading some books and on a roll with blog writing (link to my guest posts). All on pause, hope to return one day. (I guess writing this count as a return to writing?!)

We probably won’t do school or meet up with people too much for another couple of months. Although my husband has started back with some Bible and sports activities but not the other classes. I have taken our children out once to a friend’s house, they had so much fun. But I was so tired to the point of forgetting some medical things for about a day or so after that. It freaked me out.

The shock plus the learning curve and the physical tiredness are all-consuming for now. We’re told it will get easier with time and that this is just how things are for now.

Reframing

Finding others with the same diagnosis often helps, but in our case made me feel more isolated for a time.

Others were either dead or managing it with high-tech stuff we don’t have. So it felt like we were doing something dangerous. It doesn’t feel like that anymore, but when it did reframing helped me. I remembered that what is often good for us as a Cambodian/Aus family is different to what is good for anyone else. We don’t fit neatly into either Cambodian or Australian or ex-pats. So of course we are doing this differently. Our current situation suits us; we are in the best possible place to go through this.

One month down, a few more to go?

Now that the bomb blast has settled, the noise is only a ringing in our ears. The shock is present with us but not overpowering. Much of our old normal is gone, maybe only for a time. Some things we will have to work out a new normal.

Head over to the link-up to see how others used this month’s word prompts.

Feel like we missed a month.

I looked out the window this morning and saw mangoes hanging from the trees over the fence. I realised it is suddenly about to be hot season. Our Feb was swallowed up by unexpected and all consuming events.