Shock Waves

Triggers can be the oddest things, come at the strangest moments, and have the most unexpected impact. Sometimes they hit with a bang. Other times they slide in undetected, piggybacking on each other until they reach critical mass and explode all at once. 

Yesterday was one of those days. The second one in less than a week. Yesterday, I experienced a trauma shock wave. Because it’s not that I am experiencing the initial trauma again, but it is a lesser likeness presented as a current reality that still packs a punch and can produce damaging results.  

Sitting in the Doctor’s office and feeling suddenly petrified. Forcing myself to look normal and not have a breakdown in the waiting room, all the while my mind is screaming, “Get out! You aren’t safe here!” Thankfully, it was relatively short lived. That was less than a week ago.

But here I was five days later, lying in bed in the process of waking up when another wave hit. It left me reeling. Feeling as though a switch had been flipped and suddenly I was looking at my life all wrong.

I felt confused, unsafe, and disassociated from my present, thrown back to a past that is almost two decades behind me. Fear is a big part of that past and it digs its talons in deep. Why is this happening? What does it mean? What’s even real? What if what I think I know now is all a lie and my “before” was actually the truth? It creates a sense of panic. A not knowing what is real and what’s not. Even going so far as to call my identity into question. It can be paralyzing and terrifying.

It hasn’t happened for quite some time and usually the shock wave is followed by a dark depression that can last for months. This time was different. This time it hit much harder than usual. But this time, I refused to let the darkness drag me under. This time, I managed to stay somewhat grounded, while everything swirled around me. I started to question why this flashback hit at this moment. What caused the sudden resurgence of these fears? Of this way of thinking? And I slowly began to piece it together.

A date on the calendar. Tick. An innocuous reference to something from my childhood made on social media. Tick. A recent wrestling with theological questions and beliefs that framed my upbringing. Tick. An episode from one of my favorite TV dramas. Tick. A series of strange dreams and fitful sleep. BOOM! They all ganged up together and dredged up the past, exploding all over my present and forcing me to question the difference between reality and perception.

I don’t often talk about these episodes, but they happen occasionally.  And sometimes I don’t even know the reasons why. It’s taken time, therapy, and healing to get a better understanding of what is happening and what I can do when they come.

I am learning that these shock waves cannot hurt me.

I’ve come to a place of trying to sit with the emotions and thoughts – as though entertaining a guest who arrives unexpectedly and uninvited. I listen to what these memories are saying and try to discover why they’ve shown up in the first place. I know from past experience that to ignore and deny them only gives them a louder, more intrusive voice. So, I sit and listen, but only for a time. And when understanding comes, I find a way to show them the door and send them back out. 

So, this time I sat with the thoughts and the anxiety and listened to what they had to say. And I was surprised by what I learned. But in the listening, I was still spinning.

Regardless of my current perception, I had to stop and remind myself of what is true. Something that has not changed. Someone Who is constant. And I grasped the Unchangeable One as a life line and anchor to my soul.

I had to stop the tremors and the fear with a reminder that God is not the author of fear.
He is Peace. He is Truth. He is Love. He is Freedom.

Remind myself that He was not surprised by what was happening to me right now, but He was present with me in the moment. Emmanuel. Just as He has always been. And He’s never failed me.

I recalled the words of those I trust in my circle of family and friends. I reached for the tangible things. I hugged my kids tight and forced myself out of bed to do the mundane tasks to start our day. And I started to pray and meditate on words of Scripture. And as I did, they began to flow, like a gentle stream.

He also brought me up out of a horrible pit,
Out of the miry clay,
And set my feet upon a rock,
And established my steps. 
~ Psalm 40:2 (NKJV)

He brought me out. I have the choice to live free or to remain draped in the chains that have already been broken. He has established my steps, but I still have to take them.

He is with me in the fire and water. Even if I have to walk through their echoes again and again. 

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.  
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil; For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.  
~ Psalm 23:1-6 (NKJV)

I am secure in my Shepherd. He will lead me through the dark valley of shadows. And shadows can’t hurt me unless I believe they can. 

As I began to focus on these promises, the tightness in my chest began to slowly subside. The fog started to lift. I put the song “It Is Well” from Bethel Music on repeat and let the words and melody roll over my soul. And for the first time, I was able to feel the heaviness and gripping paranoia clear without falling to pieces. I experienced Hope. And by the end of the morning, though physically and emotionally exhausted, I could breathe.

Before becoming a foster parent I didn’t really understand what trauma was and, despite my history, I didn’t recognize it or its effects. But in an effort to become more trauma informed to help the children we were planning to welcome into our home, I did some research and I have learned a few things. Things about what trauma is and what it does to the brain. Things about myself and why I react to certain stimuli. And how even decades after a traumatic event, a person can still be suddenly affected when an aftershock hits out of the blue. 

For some, trauma is just a word. One for which they have no reference. For others, like me, it’s a lived reality that surfaces without invitation. It comes in many forms and it’s aftershocks are as unique as the person experiencing them. What may be devastating for one person, may not have a huge impact on another.

Let’s remember to have grace for those around us, wherever we meet them. May we not discount what they choose to share with us. And refuse to press for details when they choose to be silent. Let us be sensitive. Be present. Be kind. Because shock waves don’t come when you are ready for them and faces don’t always reveal what is going on inside. 

Trauma is not insurmountable. I no longer believe that lie. Healing does take place in the Hands of the Healer. And healing does bring distance and clarity. But every once in a while, you might have to face again things you thought were long forgotten. Be gentle with yourself. Give yourself some grace. Then once you’ve gleaned what you need from them, remember to show those intrusive memories the door. Because only you get to decide what stays in your living room.

I can still feel the residual effects of yesterday’s attack, much like you might be sore the day after a minor car accident or a hard workout. I have had to correct the occasional thought still nipping at the corners of my consciousness throughout my day. But for once I can see the progress that has been made and the healing that has taken place. For once I have Hope that tomorrow will be better than today. Because this time I can finally say the words and really mean them.

It is well with my soul.