May. The month of flowers bloom and sunshine, transitioning from beautiful spring weather into Summer’s heat. The rejuvenation of life that happens after winters hibernation and the view of beautiful greenery takes your breath away, a sight you took for granted after autumn’s leaves withered to the ground. The boost of energy you get to deep clean your home and wake up a little earlier to look cute during the day, it’s a month of revitalization, a feeling that is powerful for the soul and energy that is meant to be used.
Coincidentally this month is also Mental Health Awareness Month and every year as I am soaking in the glory of God’s green earth, I am also struggling internally from my own battles with mental illness. I’ve realized that May is a trigger for me and the anxiety I’m having approaching the 10 year anniversary of my home invasion is REAL. Honesty has to be the forefront in my journey with post traumatic stress disorder. Ignoring my mood swings and masking my anxiety will only make it worse, realizing that alone gives me control. (That’s step one. Great job, Xoch.)
Every year around this time I’m quite off, as if my energy completely transforms into someone I once knew. This girl held her pain away from the world and worked herself to a nervous breakdown a few years back. She had some horrible sh*t happen to her, instead of allowing that instance to define her she worked hard to be anything but that statistic. That one act of evil in her mind didn’t swallow her in tears but swallowed her with pressure, to be and become the perfect image of herself to get far away from her trauma. She kept quiet when she should’ve spoke. She smiled when she should’ve cried.
As the pressure returns every year so is the reminder of who that girl was, simply because of my emotions at that very moment. I’ve worked really hard to manifest my mind to bring positive affirmations to myself every single day. Praising myself for my hard work when I see or don’t see results. Walking away from bad energies that disturb my mindset. Pushing to realize how far I’ve come and thank God every moment I feel I need to, especially the little things. The problem is it’s really hard to be proud of who you are when your mind is taking you back to who you were. That broken person who was at war with herself yet at peace with the world. I honestly have no other choice but to be positive. If I’m not consistent I fall into a deep hole that swallows me whole. Not a finger, not a leg, my entire body.
When I started therapy I learned a lot more about PTSD and how trauma can manifest inside of you. After my home invasion I never really dealt with what happened, I built a new life with this man who protected me and I was never looking back. So ashamed of the situation I pulled myself out of the only life and neighborhood I knew because subconsciously I was blaming myself. I didn’t want to be a victim I wanted to be above all of it, not accepting this as a moment in my past because I simply wanted it to disappear. After years of holding on it finally came to a head, the loss of one of my closest cousins in life brought the worst out of me and a rage ensued. I let the hate I had for this situation manifest in me so long that I began to hate myself. Hated myself for my inability to hold relationships, hated myself for not being happy in what would seem to be the “perfect” marriage, hated myself for the lack of support I’d been receiving from those I’ve been helping, and HATING MYSELF FOR HATING MYSELF. My attention span was minimal, my sleep even smaller, my patience nearly gone, my anxiety crippling, and my mindset toxic. I knew I needed help but was too far into this perception that I was embarrassed of my pain.
It took a recommendation from my boss to his go to Clinical Therapist for me to take the step forward towards making myself better. I was embarrassed to cry to my boss and tell him how badly I was hurting but I knew I needed to keep him in the loop with my depression. I hit my breaking point and I didn’t know what was wrong with me. He gave me a week paid off of work and gave me the support I needed to find myself again. That man saved my life and I’ll always remember him for the compassion he gave me when I felt I deserved none. I opened my shell to the right person, instead of having someone tell me “you’ll be fine, you’re just overreacting.”
I wasn’t overreacting, I was suffering from trauma. I spent my first hour with my therapist blaming myself for the hatred I built in my heart. Having a professional explain to me that my struggles had stemmed from my past struck me differently. She explained that PTSD symptoms are not just having nightmares or flashback episodes, it can cause social anxiety through avoidance and feeling disconnected from others (check), it can cause negative mood symptoms and distorted thoughts about the trauma leading to blame on the victim (check), and it can cause alterations in arousal symptoms which included irritability, hyper-vigilance, sleep problems and self destructive behaviors (check, check, check, check). I had become so reckless that my outbursts and lack of attachment to my body had trickled down to those I loved most. My lack of knowledge had made me hate myself for all those years and here I was, suffering for not suffering.
She explained to me about triggers, how to recognize them and how to conquer them. By this point I had brushed away my emotions so long I was numb to everything. I had to feel again, a task that wasn’t easy for me at that moment. How can I force myself to feel when I trained my body to ignore my pain? Time. Consistency. Vulnerability. Patience. Most of all LOVE. I had to love myself enough to recognize when I was being unbearable. I had to give love even when a situation deserved ugly. I needed to love each day as if it were my last because triggers can come and go in an instant. Love was my way out of this ugly state. Love had to be my number one priority.
That’s what I did. I loved myself enough to realize people’s true intentions. I loved myself enough to recognize I needed to focus on me. I loved myself enough to recognize when I was being pushed in the wrong direction. I loved myself enough to know my worth as a wife and a mother. I loved myself enough to know how valuable I am in the workplace. I loved myself enough to realize it’s all up to me to change my life, to cope with the past, and to expect the unexpected but take charge of my future. Everything may not go the way I planned but that was okay because I was going to love the journey it takes to get there. Love was my key to understanding, I found it in the most unexpected place and therapy helped me get there.
I know now that therapy isn’t for everyone but it was for me. I haven’t seen my therapist since September of 2016, right before I got pregnant with my second child. I’ve exuded so much love into my life that I’ve learned how to recognize my trauma and handle it properly. I loved myself to a new position with the #1 law firm in the country, I loved myself hard enough to see how I did deserve the life I have, I loved myself to lose 65 pounds after the birth of my son, I loved myself to the point I need no validation and have cut my use of social media to less than a quarter of what I used to, I loved myself enough to feel my pain and speak on my struggles, and I loved myself enough to share my struggles with you. So thank you, to whoever you are because YOU SAVED ME TOO.
Beyond the horizon of love will always be my struggles and recognizing my triggers will save my life. This month has been hard, between the divorce of my parents, the drama of being in a wedding party, or the jabbed shade of former friends, it’s been harder to see the love. My patience has dwindled, my anxiety has raised, my mind has been wandering, and my temper has hit its breaking point. I need to see my therapist. (There goes step two, you’re doing great Xoch.)
I write these blogs not for you but for me. If this helps you to realize you’re not alone, the scary thing I call vulnerability is worth every sense of doubt I have before starting to write. I can’t continue my journey without pinpointing my triggers and handling them accordingly. Maybe a few years from now May will be just another month but maybe it won’t. That’s okay though because I love myself enough to know that I’ll be okay. Today, I called my therapist because I’d rather be at war with the world than at war with myself. I love me so much I know when I need help. (There goes step three, you’re a beast Xoch.)
Love yourself, be kind to the process, be patient for results, recognize your faults and praise your accomplishments. Every single day is a blessing from God, love yourself in the moment.
Humbly I write,
-XO
If you suffer from trauma or know someone who is please call the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration National Hotline at 1(800) 662-HELP (4357) for more information and resources on PTSD.