Not only did I not expect or consider the hell of healing from trauma, I had no idea that I had even experienced it in the first place. I seem to be a silent sufferer and I’m not entirely sure why.
I feel like part of me lives a traumatic existence as a normal way of life, it’s very familiar, so there’s a huge lack of awareness there. The other part of me doesn’t want to burden anyone with my problems.
It’s almost like I can’t imagine why anyone would even care anyway. Everyone has their own shit going on, I don’t want to add to it.
It’s ridiculous because people DO care and they want to help, I just never allow myself to ask for it.
Does that imply weakness? Am I afraid that someone will reject me if I reach out for support?
Keeping quiet really opens the door for abuse now, doesn’t it? I mean, I imagine that people that have a voice, use it to speak up, and aren’t afraid of confrontation are very tough to victimize.
I am getting there.
Something I have learned about myself, however, is that I have lived a life without a voice. Pile it on, say and do whatever you want to me. I will take it and not say a word. Your secret is safe with me.
I guess you can say that a lot, if not all, of my suffering, stems from not having a voice to speak. I can see the little 8-year-old girl, living on the battlefield referred to as “home“, staying quiet AT ALL COSTS to keep the bullets from whizzing by her head.
If she speaks, she will die. Speaking up is way more dangerous than being physically, psychologically, or emotionally beaten. Using her voice equals, what feels like, death.
I can imagine that for people who know me, my saying I have no voice may be a bit confusing because I actually have a loud one, in many situations, I get that. The voice I’m referring to is the one that completely disappears when my poorly formed boundaries are being destroyed.
I was raised to believe that intrusion is acceptable – the intrusion of my feelings, my needs, my body, and my property and sticking up for those things is dangerous.
Flash forward to today, I am free now, but I haven’t yet experienced freedom. I have many friends that have said to me “OMG, you must feel SO wonderful, isn’t it amazing to be free?”
I still have not said “yes” to that question.
I have everything, including hope and happiness, but there’s something inside of me that still hasn’t opened up to truly see all of the blessings that have manifested. Let me rephrase that, WHAT “I” HAVE MANIFESTED!
Why am I not feeling this “freedom” that so many people are referring to and expecting me to be living by now?
Instead, I have severe pain and numbness in my neck, back, and arms. My face gets flushed and I feel like I am boiling inside my body.
My heart races for hours and I feel like I don’t want to breathe. I wake up in the middle of the night and within minutes, I am panicking and shaking.
When I try to go back to sleep, I get what I call “surges” every time my body attempts to relax. These surges wake me up as if I’m in the middle of a warzone and need to start running for my life. It happens at least 10 times during the night.
My fight or flight response is in overdrive, kinda like what I would think Katniss Everdeen experienced after being in the arena.
I had a 7-hour panic attack last week and finally raised the white flag.
I called several people who were more than willing to do whatever it took to make sure I was ok. Thank you, my two L’s, for being there for me, without question, or an ounce of hesitation.
I spent several hours in the ER with skyrocketing blood pressure and an abnormal EKG. I couldn’t stop voluntarily making my arms and legs shake because, if I did, I would feel my insides shaking, which was 10 times more unbearable.
THIS is what FREEDOM feels like for me right now.
For a while, I have been trying to heal in silence as if I could do it all alone.
No one should have to heal alone, nor are we expected to do that. Whether we realize it yet or not, we’re all here to help each other and no one should EVER be afraid to ask another for help.
When I sit down to blog, be certain, I cry, I scream, I shake, and there is a constant buzzing in my ears that won’t go away. I have anger and rage, so much some days that it would be nice to just collapse into my bed, but I have not been able to do that because my system cannot rest right now.
It is not aware that it is no longer in danger, it needs to be retrained. It needs to be appreciated for working so well and doing what it’s made to do, but it no longer needs to be on high alert.
I have reached out to fellow healers that are listening, validating, and loving me through this process. They are reassuring me that, although there’s a lot of work to be done, I am on the right path.
Writing, crying, reaching out for help, and allowing myself to be vulnerable are the paths of healing for me.
Although I didn’t put a name to what was happening to me until recently, I realize that without other people, I would still be suffering in silence.
Just like life is a total team effort if we’re going to thrive, so is healing from trauma.
Sarah Saxby is a Holistic Nutrition Consultant, Transformation Coach, and blogger that uses Kabbalistic Astrology, Human Design, and intuitive guidance to lead her clients to finally live with clarity, fulfillment, and internal happiness. You can also find her at Strategies for Happiness where you can schedule an Astrological Alignment Reading or a free, 15-minute Discovery Call to discuss Nutrition and/or Transformational Coaching sessions.
