I hate it when the triggers take over. It's one thing to be driving in my car when an ambulance or fire truck goes by, lights flashing and sirens blaring...I can pull over, look down, look away, or even point my car in a different direction.
Today, at work, we were having a community event, and there happened to be an ambulance and firetruck, plus uniformed officer, inside the place. The lights were flashing, and while the sirens weren't blaring inside the building, they certainly were in my head. I could feel my entire body just break into goose flesh. Panic! Panic! Panic! I was instantly back on the side of West Michigan, waiting to be told my daughter was "gone".
What I think I hate most about these triggers and intrusive memories is to everyone else you just look like you're being a big ass baby. Unless a person happened to be right beside me as I ran down the road that day to get to her, only to find her broken, bleeding, and blue, they are never going to get the whole post traumatic thing. Parts of the incident are wholly missing, some out of order, and some so razor sharp in my mind, it could be happening in my living room: like the way her hair covered her face, and her head was flung so far to the side it didn't even seem to be with her body anymore.
Well-meaning people may say that I just have to learn to live with it or learn to cope better. They want the best for me, I'm sure. But what I really wanna say is, I AM!! Aren't you paying attention? I have a therapist, a psychiatrist, and five different medications trying to keep me from being constantly suicidal. I've spent the last ten days or so wanting to eat pesticide. Days like today do not help; they just make my load heavier, and my back feels like it's been broken ten times over as it is.
A friend of mine is right. People are more understanding and compassionate of illnesses they can see on the outside. The inside stuff is harder to understand, and sometimes is made to be a reflection on the person's character or lack of trying to be healthier. That's just not fair.
Nicole I want you to know my heart aches for you. I understand your internal pain, a pain that will be part of you always (here). I wish I could reach to you and hug you and just say.... how I understand the unbearable part of your pain, and all the conflict that comes with it. It is difficult to put everyday life and it's demands, friends, family, progression of their lives, into a proper context with your own life. Un-relatable is the word that pops in my head most days, as people misjudge and lack understanding and at times lack compassion for you. I understand how it is to not feel as if you can rise for "the occasion" whatever the demand of the hour, day, or week presents. Sometimes it is just rising in the morning to meet the day. So.... somehow as you desperately try to carry on, please know that I understand the weight of what you carry. May the love of your sweet girl, be the impetus to carry you when you feel you can't walk or function. May the greatness of her life....lived.....be the guiding force....until you feel strong. It is a NEW normal, your AD/BC in life. And as her mom, you will always feel the hurt of her loss b/c of it's enormity. I feel for you, each day....and although I don't relay to you often enough, I pray for peace, comfort, redefined joy, meaningful moments, and all good things to come to you....in spite of the most horrific circumstance one can endure. God bless you sweet girl and you are not alone....ever...ever. Your pain is intense beyond human awareness. In my own suffering with my loss, I found the love of God to be my refuge, my safe place, and I have a sense of knowing that his unconditional love offers me more support in my pain than anything or anyone else ever. It is his grace....that has kept me this far. Prayers for you beautiful girl.
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