Unraveling…

I was processing a very distressing time with my therapist recently when she stopped me and asked me to describe what a meltdown ‘looked like’ to me?

She stopped me in my tracks.
She knows me too well.
She knows I ‘paint with words’

But I’d never been made to actually ‘paint’ this painful picture before. 
Normally I’m a vibrant colour lover. But in times like this the only colour I see is black. So I tend to stop ‘painting’.

What does it look like for me?
And what does it look like for others looking on?

Heaven forbid! – I never stopped to think what it looks like to others. I guess I look like a total psycho mess. I hide a lot so only those closest to me see the real truth of my emotional crises. 

So describe what’s happening within me during a meltdown.
Whew! 
…well the days/months preceding I’m slowly descending into depressional darkness, at the same time (and unnoticeably I thought but now I know my closest can see what I can’t) I’m getting wound up internally like a top. And then something, (usually relatively minor but linked inextricably to a past trauma) will trigger me which snaps the now very taught rubber band and everything in my head starts spinning.

Physical agitation builds, I can’t sit still, I have an overwhelming need to run. Then my brain just implodes.
Feelings of hopelessness, fear, stupidity, anger at myself for my inability to cope… Tears which have been building below the surface erupt uncontrollably, and then are constantly there for days, sometimes weeks. 

I feel weak, hopeless, out of control, lost…

There’s usually two outcomes depending on the circumstances and the reactions of those nearest me. The length of recovery is somewhat determined by them too.

‘Before therapeutic education & understanding’ I would usually run straight into ‘fright/flight’ – retreat to the inside of my head. On the outside I now know I would appear bitchfaced, sad & angry. But inside I had just shut down because I didn’t know how to process and communicate my pain. Because of this inability my meltdown could take days or weeks to recover from. 

Definitely not pretty & much less of a reaction now. 

The second is outcome is 95.9% better and is only possible due to the past 10 years of therapy which has slowly helped me understand the how’s & whys of my traumas & responses and how to manage & communicate them. 

If/when meltdown crisis hits and those nearest me can see & embrace me in my pain, which is hard for them because like most hurting trauma sufferers I push away those trying to help me, then my reaction changes momentarily to ‘freeze’ until and I can allow myself to feel safe. Being held and not questioned is imperative. Then I collapse into fetal and rest. Rest in a quiet safe place with all stresses removed is essential at this point because I am emotionally & physically exhausted.

Recovery from a crisis meltdown is not immediate but once the dam breaks the tensions & tears lessen and the colours begin returning to my world.

PTSD is a hidden trauma inflicted disability which is exhausting to live with. It’s a constant daily fight that I have been living with for decades 🥺
But now my fight is be that victorious survivor not to just survive.

I’m so grateful for the recognition & understanding I received from my very first ACC case manager who gave me permission to take as much time as I needed when he said ‘this could take you many years to heal from’

Here’s to celebrating being this Beautiful Mess who has successfully climbed out of yet another dark hole
Thank God my sun is shining again and my colours are vividly happy today 🙂

Eight years ago
0r 96 months
0r 416 weeks
0r 2922 days

It doesn’t matter how you count
It is a long time
But it is also a very short time

The memories of that terrible, horrible, no good, bad, day
are forever embedded in my soul
the memories are implanted in my body
held fast in my very being

Grief holds no time line
It is not a considered thing
It lies in the subconscious
The effects affect and trigger when least expected

That one action
That one disaster
has torn our family into pieces
has forced us all to face emotions and pain
Such devastating pain
far far too big to know what to do with

Even eight years on
The waves of grief are still pounding
They smash on the shores of our hearts
They tear our emotions into shreds
But we hold them close
Scared to let them go
Protecting our vulnerabilities

We share special moments
Memories
We can laugh
We can talk and reminisce
But the loss we endure is ours and ours alone
Held tight
Such a private thing
And yet so known
We can share
But we can’t
It’s so hard…

Living in lockdown
That word resonnates fear and control to me

As a victim of childhood trauma
Personal control was taken from me when I was a child
I’ve lived so much of my life
living With fear
living In fear
and in recent years
learning to conquer fears
learning how to take back control of my life
and now I’m thrust into a world of Fear
a world of totalitarian control
I’m spinning inside
My brain wont shut off
The panic buttons have been activated again
everywhere I turn there is more and more and more
Fear
triggering me like crazy

Lockdown Day 4
my emotional balance tipped off scale by a small first world problem on a cool morning
realisation that my warm clothes are all packed & stored
773 kms (480miles) away
because we were in the midst of a major life change when life as we knew it stopped
those life changes are now on hold
we are neither here nor there
and this all of a sudden became huge
a feeling of helplessness
a loss of control
the tears began

Lockdown Day 5
Unfortunately in spite of our businesses being closed
The legal and accountancy side of life continues
No holiday from the IRD etc
My emotional wellbeing is already fragile
Throw work, brain, thinking issues into the mix and I’m done
I slammed the laptop shut and buried myself in my lovers arms
Hiding until a new day forces me to face the pressures again

Lockdown Day 6
No matter how much I try
No matter how far we walk
No matter how much sun is shining
No matter how many hugs & comfort I get from the only person that is allowed to hug me
The tears wont stop
I’m exhausted

Whatever control I had on my life has been removed
Whats the point of living if we are not allowed freedom to live…

I am tired of seeing all the sunshine and roses and stupidity that is flying around the internet
I just want some reality
I want connection
I don’t want some generic video or meme
I Need Real Connection

I know others are struggling also
For the sake of honesty
Can we just be fucking real – Please?

If I’m gonna get through this
I need to know
It’s okay to cry
It’s okay to speak up
It’s okay to voice that I’m not Okay
That I will be heard

This article below is excellent
It helped me make sense of me this morning
I’m sharing it below in it’s entirety just in case the link ever gets broken

Stop Romanticizing Lockdown—It’s a Mental Health Crisis in the Making.

During this unprecedented and peculiar time of COVID-19 and the subsequent quarantines in place, I have seen a post doing the rounds recently.

It talks about settling in to this space to read and meditate, to sing and dance and remember how to find the sacred in the simplest of things. It talks about the world slowing down. It talks about humanity healing. It is beautiful. I believe in much of its sentiment.

Yes, of course, it is important to uplift ourselves and each other during this difficulty. Yes, of course, there is value in making the most of this unusual moment and using the time wisely. Yes, of course, there is opportunity to heal and deal with our issues as they arise through the quietness of our confinement.
But, so often in life, our obsession with staying positive—both individually and culturally—means we don’t create the space for the far more complex, real, raw human experience. We don’t create the space for people to feel both free and safe to speak their struggles. It has the potential to silence and shame those who are suffering alone inside their homes, making them feel that there is something wrong with them or their inability to emotionally cope.
I believe we need to stop romanticising lockdown, because quite simply, it is a mental health crisis in the making.

Here are some things I would like us all to have in our awareness during this time so that perhaps we can hold space for both ourselves and each other in a more complete and loving way.

The childhood traumas that many of us have suffered are largely to do with connection—or, more to the point, lack of it. The original attachments formed with our family units were unhealthy and dysfunctional, leaving us with a nagging sense of being alone—disconnected from ourselves, others, and the world around us. For many people, being physically isolated in their homes is going to be both triggering and re-traumatising.

Most of us don’t even know that we carry trauma and wounding from childhood. We might suffer with symptoms such as addictions, chronic pain, depression, low self-esteem, or anxiety. We might like our drink a little bit too much, or over-work, or be a tad too fanatic about exercise. We might travel a little too often, always on the run from reality, or socialise obsessively to fend off the loneliness that eats away at us. We may not yet have discovered the pain that lies at the root of these behaviours—because they are designed to keep us from it.