Words and their meaning have always fascinated me. I read the dictionary as a child for kicks, which served to improve my vocabulary, but additionally served to spawn in me a love for literature, poetry, and song lyrics. The talent exhibited by those who have the ability to mold words into images fascinates me.
Recently I began taking a class in trauma. My naturally inclination causes me to focus on specific words in particular “mental illness” and “trauma” keep springing into my consciousness. I never attributed either mental illness or trauma to myself until I came into this forum and other people made the association for me. So being me, I Googled. Illness: a disorder of structure or function in a human, animal, or plant, especially one that produces specific signs or symptoms or that affects a specific location and is not simply a direct result of physical injury. Trauma: a deeply distressing or disturbing experience.
It was as if I had suddenly discovered air. Ridiculous as that sounds I had never thought of myself as being either ill or traumatized. Those words for me previously only applied to individuals who suffered rape, or who had been battered, or found themselves witnessing wartime atrocities. I assumed that my life, and the emotions that I felt, and the negative things that I experienced were just life occurrence that everyone experienced. I told myself that crap happens …you deal with it...you move on. I did not realize that there was a name for those experiences and in knowing that name came empowerment. Further there was not simply a name…not just words…, but also an entire science devoted to determining what causes trauma, methods for dealing with trauma, but far more importantly to me, VALIDATION for my body’s and my mind’s reactions to that trauma. I had studied neurobiology, neuropsychology, and anatomy and physiology, but none of those studies resulted in the epiphany that all of those horrific things that I had experienced, or the pain were indeed valid traumatic experiences that were not “normal” or to be sloughed off as trivial or inconsequential. My pain was as real and as significant as that of others, and moreover, warranted at least a conversation with someone, or compassionate recognition from ME as opposed to being directed to that box inside where I compartmentalize and stuff them. They are the result of brain chemistry, generational family dysfunctions, and a host of other things outside of my control. Reasoning aside, the take away is….wait for it…it is OK to feel. It is OK say I have been ill and experienced trauma. The decades that I have spent punishing myself for emotions and behaviors, which I did not associate with trauma, the box I filled with suppressed feelings which now very much would like to explode, were unnecessary. I am not in the habit of blaming others for my emotional state. Parenting is a never-ending learning curve, and my parents did the best they could with the skillset and the experiences that they had at their disposal. I am grateful to them. I am not sure at what point individual support systems are supposed to manifest. Who identifies the warning signs that someone is in distress because of trauma and reaches out to assist or direct that person toward help especially children? I did not have a support system. I do not now. I feel as a society more people find themselves in that position. Some find life hopeless enough to end it. It bothers me greatly that as technology improves human connections decrease, and along with that decrease is an accompanying increase in social isolation, the type of which ends in tragic circumstances. I do not have answers, but if I were to offer anything it would be …hug someone today, call someone today, text someone today. That may be the only thing that sustains them.
xx
Forget everything, it will pass
Ruminating
I need some words of encouragement so please reply if you are willing.
