No human being is without feelings. From a baby’s first cry to a dying person’s last look at friends and family, our primary response to the world around us is colored by emotion. Whether that world seems to us friendly or frightening, beautiful or ugly, pleasant or disagreeable, affects the way we approach others, and indeed influences everything we do. I do not believe that such feelings arise in us solely due to environmental conditions, or to genetic factors, however important these both may be. Members of the same family, placed in the same kinds of situations, react in very different ways. Our emotions are a conscious response to our experience, but they are self-generated and reveal something important about our character. However, it felt like I had no emotions and no character for some parts of this years. I was skin and bones and brain and blood vessels making attempts at movement. Lips in slow motion on a frozen face with unfamiliar arms and legs, a mind repeating over and over, "I'm going to be okay!"
"I'm going to be okay!"
"I'm going to be okay!"
"I'm going to be okay!"
The traumatic occurrences of my year made me, for a moment, more robot-like than the joyful human I usually am. During those many tough moments, I looked for someone to hold my hand but quickly realized that I wasn’t ready for a human interactions; all I wanted to do was to curl up in my bed, hide from the world, and have something or someone convince me it would, someday, be all right again.
As time has passed, I have learned more about what I have endured and what I have to endure to move on with my life. I have spoken with others—some in the recent aftermath of trauma and some who experienced the same trauma years ago—many of whom have searched for guidance similar to what I had searched for. With these people in mind, I decided to create a list of the things I wish someone would have taught me in the thick of things.
I cannot offer you any quick fixes. I cannot give you a tidy outline that will divide healing and recovery into a neat and precise process or stages. I cannot tell you that six months from now the world will be back in alignment. I have seen too much to offer such hollow promises. What I can promise is that in these blog posts, as today's, I will do my best to offer you a hand to hold and words to guide you through this unfamiliar maze.
Without further ado, here is a list of the lessons I learned along the way and will hold with me always. I share these with you in hopes they offer comfort in your journey.
🍀 I learned to treat myself as if I was in Intensive Care. You are in the process of going through one of the most traumatic experiences a person can endure. The challenges you have already faced, both physically and mentally, will leave you vulnerable, exhausted, and weak. It is imperative that you focus directly on yourself and on any dependents. Find ways to get your needs met first in these few weeks.
🍀 I learned to let my body lead me. Trauma affects us all differently. Some of us may become very active and busy, while others may become lethargic or practically comatose. Let your body lead you. If you feel tired—sleep. If you feel like crying—cry. If you are hungry—eat. Don’t feel you need to act one way or another. There are no “shoulds” right now, simply follow the lead of your body.
🍀 I learned that sometimes “not knowing” is the only thing to know. In the first week or so you will probably feel stunned and overwhelmed. You may also feel numb or hysterical. Your emotional system shuts down, providing temporary insulation from the full impact of your loss. You will go through the motions; it will look like you’re coping well sometimes.
In shock you may be unable to move or speak coherently; people report that they cannot think. Shock responses may also be active and intense; you may have screamed, or run from the room, or physically attacked the bringer of the news. All of these behaviors are means of shutting down, or distancing yourself from a reality that you do not yet have a way to deal with. As you look back, your behavior may seem bizarre and totally out of character for you. Remember that your entire world had been knocked out from under you. You were in free fall, and your first task was to find any way to stop the fall.
🍀I learned that sometimes it’s okay to forget everything and just sleep for ten or twenty hours. For the first few days or weeks, do not concern yourself with what you will do, where you will go, or what lies in the future.
🍀I learned I have a lot more to learn about myself.
🍀I learned to expect to be distracted. During the first few weeks, your mind will be filled with racing thoughts and unfamiliar emotions. Many people report having difficulty with simple tasks. Losing one’s keys, forgetting where you are while driving, and sluggish reaction time are all commonly reported problems. With everything you are mentally and physically trying to process, it’s normal to be distracted. Take special caution. Try to avoid driving and other activities where these symptoms may cause injury
🍀I learned that the answers we often look for outside of ourselves, can only be found within.
🍀I learned that I can blame anything and everything until I run out of breath—but I become empowered when I quit asking, “why me?” and start asking, “what will I do with this?”
🍀I learned that there is nothing as precious as right now—even when “now” doesn’t seem precious.
🍀I learned that I cannot make up for today by living or working “harder” or “doing more” or “being healthier” or “spending more time” tomorrow.
🍀I learned that I can never know what the day may bring, but it is up to me at its close, to know what the day brought.
🍀I re-learned the value of a moment.
🍀 I learned how important it is to have someone near you if possible. Choose a close friend to keep near you through the first week or two. Let this person help you make decisions, hear your fears or concerns, and be the shoulder for you to lean on. Give them a copy of this book. Later, as you move through the grieving process, it will be very helpful to have someone who has “been there” and understands thoroughly what you are talking about.
I'm sure that there are people that have it worse than I do but I tell my story because I believe in the power of story to heal. As a writer, content creator and wellness coach, I find it rewarding to help others tell their story as well. The stories I hear about childhood trauma and conditioning are as diverse as fingerprints—each one slightly different from the next. And yet, when we share, we built an immediate and profound connection to each other. Regardless of where we are in the process of healing, we become supportive as we relate and recognize each other’s pain.
That's the last thing I learnt... A sense of community and acceptance of self is vital to our spiritual and emotional healing.