PTSD and All That Good Stuff — These Bohemian Days

Hi there. I’m Heidi, and I have PTSD. According to my new therapist, I’m a good candidate for counseling. I have bad dreams, extreme startle responses, and moodiness. Don’t I sound like someone you want to spend time with?!

If you don’t know me, you’re probably not aware that earlier this year, our family was locked out of the hospital in Gresham, Oregon, while my mother slowly died. We became one of those pandemic families like they talk about on the news. Quite traumatic.

It’s hard to know if my PTSD is simply due to the hospital lockout situation, the pandemic, or major unemployment as a gig worker. Maybe it goes back to my car accident years earlier and multiple head injuries. What I do know is that I’m not the same as I used to be. That’s pretty difficult to face. But that doesn’t mean my life is over. It means that I need to let people know what’s happening. It means I’m on a journey. I get to discover how to work with myself, to rewire my brain, and learn new self-care skills.

Practical Steps

There are days when I want to crawl in a hole and never come out. This, however, is not really a solution. Here’s what I’m practically doing to address the wonkiness that has become my life:

I’m seeing a marvelous therapist on Zoom. No, it’s not in-person right now, but it is still helpful. Maybe that’s why it’s been so bad, because the death of my mother and the months following have not permitted the “normal” grieving process. Facebook just isn’t the same as a funeral and hugging friends. So yeah-finding the right person to talk to is vital to this process, and right now, virtual counseling will have to do.
I’ve committed to a safety plan. Throughout my life, suicidal ideations come and go, and it’s good to talk about it. Stuffing the pain...that’s where you get in trouble. Even though it’s embarrassing, and it makes me feel weak, talking about it might help someone else. (Here’s one of my favorite TED Talks from psychologist Susan David about speaking up).
I’m creating lots of art, specifically with paint chips. Sometimes, playing with paint is just what my brain needs. Join me for my virtual art showing on October 23rd (replay will be available). I’ve also been writing about my mom and what this year has been like. It’s hard, but I highly recommend it. Just putting it down on paper (or computer) can help with those bottled up feelings.
This year, I have laughed and laughed. My great sorrow is always there, constantly lurking under the surface, but I am fighting for joy. Sometimes, I feel guilty for laughing. How can I laugh when my heart is shattered? Will other people think I’ve moved on? You can’t see my heartbreak like you can see a broken arm. But my mother was a funny woman, and I can’t holistically grieve her death without laughing. And so, I’m allowing sorrow and joy to reside together. (Jim Gaffigan’s comedy has been one of the healing balms in my life).
I try to pray and spend time reading my Bible, especially the Psalms. I tell God how badly I hurt and how broken I feel. My faith feels pretty shaky right now, so I’m reading and researching the things that trouble me. I think of Mother Teresa who did not necessarily feel close to God and find encouragement in her words of perseverance. Sometimes, the only thing I can say to God is, “Help,” and that’s okay.
I’m scheduling more time to do nothing. No expectations. It means I won’t accomplish as much, but these days, self-care is essential.

Why I’m Sharing

I’m writing about this because it’s been a REALLY hard year for all of us, and I want you to know I care about whatever pain you’re experiencing. I want to make sharing things like anxiety and depression and addiction a bit more normal. It helps me to be known, and I hope it encourages you to be known. That doesn’t mean you need to write a blog about it or post it on social media. Sharing it with just one other person can be beneficial.

Trillium Lake with a view of Mt. Hood. I spent time grieving/journaling here this summer.

When you’re open, you risk being hurt. I’m prepared to be misunderstood in what I’ve written, and that’s okay. Maybe this little confession will help someone. And if you do share but don’t feel heard, keep on seeking good listeners. One bad listener doesn’t mean there aren’t good ones out there.

This year, I’ve had a variety of listeners. Some have been helpful; some have motivated me to find different ears. Just keep speaking up with kind, honest truth. Do some creating. Laugh a little every day. Make time for self-care, even if it’s just five minutes of quiet. Your brain needs it. My brain needs it. It’s hard to be human, so be kind to yourself whatever you’re going through.

*Disclaimer: I’m not a therapist, so this little blog is no substitute for that. If you are experiencing any sort of depression, mental health needs, thoughts of suicide, etc., there is help available. -Suicide Prevention Lifeline -National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI)

BOHEMIAN CHALLENGE:

Take time to journal about your year. Write about who has listened well and who hasn’t. Let those helpful listeners know what they mean to you. Forgive those who have not listened well or not listened at all. Consider sharing how you’re doing with a trusted friend.

TELL ME:

I’d love to hear ways/practices you’ve incorporated as you’ve walked through 2020. Show me your art!