As I ran my bath a few nights ago the juxtaposition that is my life came into greater focus. While I am a strong, vibrant woman with much to live for and dreams as big as the universe, I also carry the weight of physical and emotional pain, often wondering if I will ever truly embody my dreams. Perhaps I need to allow them to evolve with my physical body, looking different than I had once imagined, the essence still alive, but something inside me still yearns for the big stuff and wonders if it will ever be possible.

Monday’s EMDR therapy session was an especially difficult one. I remembered more about my childhood sexual abuse (not uncommon when processing trauma, especially when there’s been disassociation) and it hit me hard. In the days since I’ve been overcome by bouts of spontaneous tears, complete exhaustion, gripping terror, and adrenaline surges that leave me little room to rest or sit with myself. My entire body aches in a manner incredibly different than the pain sensations I’ve come to know as a part of normal daily life. I’ve had zero motivation to get out of bed or leave the house. To be honest, Jagger may be the only reason I’ve seen the light of day this week. To put it into perspective, I’m pretty sure the only way I worked up the energy to run a bath for myself and then found the patience to actually lay in it was a hope that it would ease the persistent pain I had been feeling.

It was there, in my bathroom, that I felt all the many sides of my self colliding into one. The all of me appeared in a flash before my (spiritual) eyes and vanished as quickly as it had appeared. In that nanosecond I felt all of me.. the abused little girl, frozen and confused; the mama bear caring for her; the regular, down home girl that loves to laugh and have fun; the “sick” one with chronic conditions and pain; the woman that aches emotionally, physically, and spiritually as she searches for answers to her healing; the “hippie” who loves mother earth and sensuality; the insecure one feeling “otherness” and desperately wanting to be accepted. Instantaneously I felt all of it, all that I am. Without conscious thought I reached for oils of Frankincense, Rose, and Myrrh to soothe my body and soul. Luxurious, nourishing oils of beauty and strength, summoning my inner Queen. Lymph nodes swollen, as they usually are after EMDR, chest heaving, purging years of tears and aggression, limbs nearly immobile, I was anointing myself, ceremoniously. Surrounding my Queen with candles and beauty of all forms. Honoring my body for her work; showing her love and affection through this act of self care - a ritualistic bathing session. Easing her into the hot, salty water. Taking in the soft, sweet aroma. Noticing the steam as it danced through the candlelight. Resting her head on a feminine folded towel; a special gift from my grandparents. Inviting her to find calm. For 35 years she has held my pain, keeping me safe from harm, I wanted her to know that this night, she could release, even if only a little.

In the moments before, although I was upright I felt as if I were dragging myself across the floor. Wondering why.. how I would get through this and to the next plateau. Reminiscing about my life before the memories flooded in and took my body over. Dreaming about a day when the trespasses would be purged completely and I could, perhaps, go about my merry way. Now, I was surrendering. Giving myself over to what was, holding on to what could be, and quite literally settling into the present moment, in the comfort of a nurturing bath. Suspended in time, even if just for a bit. Breathe.

As I look back on that half hour or so I am grateful. Thankful that I found a moment of rest. Happy that I could stop the thoughts, the pain, the judgment for just a bit. So thankful that I could be whole, right then, and notice it. For the most part these days my mind is swirling with questions. Do people with PTSD ever fully recover? Do our bodies and minds become ours again? Do we heal? Do we forgive those that have trespassed against us, even if there is no comprehending what they have done? Do we find peace? Solitude? Health?

This is why meditation and moments of stillness are such an important part of my day. They introduce periods of silence and peace to my over-anxious mind. It’s also why exercise is a must and radical self love has become a new way of life for me; something I’m still learning to navigate and embrace. When the pain and fear feel too overwhelming, these are my tools. This is where I go.

I am convinced that my health spiraled downward, at least in part, as a result of my childhood trauma. I had not been able to process the traumatic experience of years past and it was time; my body was letting me know. So, now that I am doing the extremely difficult work of facing those memories, allowing time and space for my body to release, integrating where possible, I wonder, will there come a day where I am made whole again and what will that look like? Will I feel like the 5 year old girl spinning in the sun moments before the abuse occurred or is she forever gone? Will I feel like a recreated version of that sweet spirit, just as happy and even stronger for the dragons I have slayed? Is there a roadmap for such private and personal work? How can there be when trauma is so unique to each individual? Will the fainting decrease or cease all together? Will I get my energy back? What if I’m putting myself through all of this and nothing changes? Will it have been worth it even if I remain sick?

As for that last question, I believe the answer is yes. Through this process I have already revealed so many of my blindspots, that relationships feel richer. Until I have the answers for the rest I suppose I will continue on. Feeling my way. Learning the lessons this journey seems to be teaching:

Practice gentleness and kindness towards self and others. Accept what is with radical openness. Love myself fiercely and when I think I have loved myself enough, do it some more. Make no apologies for the work I am doing or the hell I have faced. Communicate my needs. Take time and space where I need it. Create boundaries. Allow others their process. Accept support.

I am by no means an authority on trauma therapy. I can only share my experience and the lessons I am learning as I navigate the delicate process of unwinding years of pain, fear, and defense mechanisms. For me, part of that process is recognizing the mind, body, spirit connection. As I navigate this terrain I feel I must honor the experience of my first faint while being raped at 5 years old and embrace that it was an act of love from my body toward that little girl who needed protecting; a gift. I believe it is important for me to acknowledge the increase in frequency and intensity of POTS and EDS symptoms as my memory was triggered 8 years ago and even now as trauma therapy has ensued. I must stay aware of allowing room for my own imperfections as I work through this process, forgiving myself when I handle something less gracefully than I would like. I’ve learned to ask for patience from others while I’m deep in this darkness and I offer compassion in return because it’s not easy on those close to me either. I’m working on noticing my need to control, a coping mechanism I learned as that little girl, and letting go where it is not needed. I am embracing the fact that simply showing up as the best version of myself each day is enough. I am enough. Mind, body, and spirit.

This post was an especially vulnerable one to share. Trauma therapy is intense and I am committed to using my experience to shed light on what it’s like for those of us going through it. If you have experienced a trauma or are displaying signs of PTSD, please see a mental health professional. There is hope.