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Trauma

Trauma changes you. Not just emotionally, but physically as well. Studies have shown that trauma can actually change your DNA. I mean think about that for a minute. Let that sink in just a bit. It literally changes the makeup of your body, and the wiring of your brain. That is some crazy stuff for sure.

The thing about trauma is that it affects you in ways you don’t even understand until later. When you are in the midst of it, you don’t realize what it is doing to you because you are just trying to survive.

I am writing this post tonight, because today the aftermath of trauma hit me hard, right in the gut. It really sucker punched me. I did not even realize what it had stolen from me until today.

I was reminiscing with my dear friend from high school. She had come across some pictures from childhood, and was sending them to me. As I looked at the pictures I had a difficult time recalling what was happening in the picture or sometimes even who was in the picture. She was talking about things we did and memories she had from our childhood. As she talked I began to slowly realize that I did not have these memories. I could not remember all these great times she spoke of, and then it hit me. Trauma stole that from me. I was so busy surviving that my brain didn’t have room to store those memories at the time.

It made me so upset to think that I couldn’t remember all of these great times we had. At one point I even started crying. I would never be able to go back to that time in my life and capture those memories. Trauma really sucks, it takes so much away from you. I knew there were things I did not remember about my childhood, but I didn’t understand just how much of the good stuff I had forgotten as well. It hurts, it hurts a lot to know that I had these great times, and I experienced them, but I can’t remember them. I want that back. I want to take back the good memories, and hold them close. Life is a series of moments and memories, and mine were stolen by trauma.

Most of the time, I choose not to allow myself to feel because it hurts so much. Today I couldn’t control the feelings and emotions. My heart hurts for the little girl that never got to be little. It aches for the teenager that never had the chance to capture the moments and memories. I am grateful I had them, and that there were people along my path to love me and provide those childhood experiences for me, but what I would give to remember them. What I would give to go back and relive them, to capture them and keep them close to me.

Trauma changed me, it hurt me, and each day I learn more about the effects it had on me. I wish I could say trauma is something you can just move on from, but I am learning that isn’t possible. As much as I had hoped that I could just overcome it all and be this fearless, strong women, that’s just not the case. I will forever be changed.

I have chosen to rise above the trauma I experienced and live my life, but I will always have the scars, and sometimes they burn. Sometimes they hurt so much it’s almost unbearable. Sometimes the affects are overwhelming, and all the emotions boil over. Sometimes it’s hard to breath, and sometimes it feels like the weight is to much. Trauma is everlasting, and painful.

So if you ever feel like this please know you are not alone. You are allowed to feel all the things, and you can still rise above.

Life Is A Journey

A Fork In The Road

“On every journey you take, you face choices. At every fork in the road, you make a choice. And it is those decisions that shape our lives”.  Mike DeWine

This next part of the journey is really difficult to write. This is one part of my story that still brings back vivid emotions.

The story I am about to tell is a story that most people don’t know. I am not even sure my mom would remember this story. She was not in a good place at this time, and I doubt she even remembers doing what she did. As for me, I will remember it forever  because it changed the course of my life .

It was the  summer before I was to start 5th grade. My mom was living in Washington. My sisters were no longer with her because they had been taken back to Missouri to live with their dad. My mom called to ask if I would come visit her for the summer. I was very hesitant to go because I really enjoyed living with my dad. I enjoyed the childhood I had been living. For once life was carefree and good. I did miss my mom, but I wanted to continue living with my dad. I agreed to go visit her under the condition that I would not be staying.

I remember saying goodbye to my dad at the airport, and telling him that I wanted to come back and I wasn’t staying. He reassured me that I could and told me not to worry. As my plane landed in Washington I was excited to see my mom, but nervous at the same time.

My mom was living  in a huge apartment building at the time. The building reminded me of a hotel because it had so many floors. To be honest it very well could have been a hotel, I can’t recall   the details of the building except that  it was big and had an elevator. I don’t remember much of  what we did that summer, but I do  remember my mom being gone many nights, and leaving me alone in that giant apartment building with all of its strange noises and people . I was terrified every time she left me, and I could not wait to go back to California to the safety of living with my dad.

Summer was coming to a close, and I was anxiously waiting to fly back home to my dad. One night my mom said she wanted to talk to me about something. I sat down with her, and she told me that she wanted me to stay and live with her. I felt bad because I did not want to hurt her, but I hated being there. She had been drinking a lot and would leave me alone all night. I was always so scared when she was gone.  I did not like my mom drinking either because she was a whole different person, and not in a good way. I told her I wanted to go back to California. She started crying and begging me to stay. She said she needed me, and couldn’t live without me. Then she said something to me that I will never forget. She told me that if I went back to California she would kill herself. That one sentence sealed my fate. I had no other choice, but to stay because  I could not be the reason my mom killed herself.

The next day she had me call my dad, while I spoke to him she listened in on our conversation. She even took the threat of killing herself a step further, and  held a knife to her wrist as I talked to my dad while she listened.  I told my dad that I had decided to stay and live with my mom. I could hear  the shock in my dad’s voice when I told him. He was confused and kept asking me if I was sure. Inside my head I was screaming “NO I don’t want to stay”, but I couldn’t tell him the truth because I did not want my mom to slit her wrist.  I remember the heartache in his voice as we ended our conversation. The whole time we talked  I was silently praying for  him to somehow realize that I was lying and come to rescue me, but how could he know that I needed to be rescued. My mom had accomplished her goal. I was staying.

I felt so defeated and alone. I was trapped there living with a mom who was drinking all the time, and leaving me alone at night to fend for myself. It was one of the lowest, most miserable times in my life. I kept hoping and wishing that my dad would fly to Washington and get me, but he had no idea what my life was like.

Sometimes I think about how much different my life would have been if I had never gotten on that plane.  I am sure life would have been a lot brighter, and easier. I would have had a place to call home. I wouldn’t struggle with the emptiness that sometimes haunts me. I would feel like I belonged somewhere instead of feeling like I am constantly searching to find where I belong. I think about  all the painful experiences I would have missed. The stresses of living with an addict I would never have felt, but then I remember…

I remember that everything I’ve  experienced made me the person I am today. The battles I fought, the things I survived have given me the strength to get through anything in life. My childhood tragedies helped me to become the mom that I am today. The people who have come into my life and become my family would not exist if my path hadn’t changed that summer. All those things, and all those  people made every single struggle worth it.

I still fight an internal battle of belonging. Many days I still feel an emptiness inside me. Holidays and family events are especially difficult for me, and I am still not sure where I fit in. That’s ok though because I am learning each day, and growing each day. Someday I know I will be right where I belong.