Trauma Is a Battlefield

I had never really questioned the root of all that was broken inside me. I was deeply flawed, and had perfected the art of self-deprecation. I carried around with me the secrets from my childhood, the heavy burden. I had been in an unhappy relationship for years, but to justify it, told myself that everybody was in unhappy relationships. And my dad had just died after a long battle with cancer. The big C — I hate it when people call it that. I thought that maybe I was just unlucky; that it was my destiny to live a shitty, unhappy life. It was the life I had been born into, and I should just accept it.

Then one day, I was with a friend. One of my oldest friends; one that knew about all my secrets. She turned to me and said: “Are you ok, man?”

“Yes! Of course! Are you?” I was always ok. Always.

“Well, it’s just that you’re going through a lot right now with your dad, and other stuff… and then there’s all the stuff you went through when we were kids. It’s a lot. You’ve been through a lot.” She was genuinely concerned. My beautiful, compassionate friend. I wonder if she even remembers.

“Yeah, I’ve just accepted it. It is what it is.”

I wasn’t ready to face it all yet, but that was the first time I thought about it all. The first time I acknowledged that yes, I had indeed been through a lot. My oppressive life, the demons, the memories.

Although I wasn’t ready to face it consciously, something inside me shifted. I left the relationship I was in, which took one hell of a lot of courage. I moved back in with my mum, and the remembering had begun. I started to remember who I was, the music I enjoyed, the TV shows, movies, and books I loved.

I was like an animal that had been freed from her small cage. Booze, lots of booze, nights out, one-night stands, hangovers, guilt, shame, vomit. Don’t get me wrong, I did have some fun times, but when I look back at what I was really doing, I was drinking to feel something other than numb and depressed, while simultaneously seeking validation from men.

There was one hangover that changed everything — a gift from God disguised as the mother of all hangovers. With my head down a toilet, I decided things needed to change. I stopped drinking for a while. I went to the doctors about my panic attacks and got diagnosed with high-functioning anxiety and depression.

I became obsessed with self-help books and podcasts. I found meditation and yoga. My inner world was shifting. My daughter and I moved to a nicer house in a village with a pond, and I became my own boss. I was creating the life I wanted. The self-deprecation I had once been so good at was turning into self-love, and I could finally see my worth.

Yoga became a massive part of my life, a daily practice. At this time, I was into Yoga with Adriene on YouTube. It was 2020 and the whole world was locked down because of the COVID pandemic. Everyone was doing YWA – Adrienne Mishler kept a lot of us grounded and sane during such turbulent time. One of her videos was “YOGA FOR PTSD” — I scrolled past it…

That’s not for me… is it?

My friend’s words from a few years earlier rang in my head: “It’s a lot. You’ve been through a lot.”

You see, I didn’t think PTSD was relevant for me. I thought it was reserved for war veterans — you know, those old black-and-white videos of those poor shell-shocked men after World War I? War vets, and people who had been in terrible accidents.

“You’ve been through a lot.”

And just like that, it all clicked. Maybe the video was for me. Maybe everything had led me to this moment. I felt validated. I felt seen.

When I was a young girl, I witnessed domestic violence in my home. My dad would get very angry and jealous, and my mum would feel the brunt of all his fury.

He would shout, swear, spit, and punch her. One day I got in between them to make him stop. He did.

Another time, I lay in bed awake, listening as my mum came home late from a night out with the girls. She told me years later that was the night he almost killed her — probably changed the entire trajectory of her life. And I heard it all.

I saw him self-harm once.

Memories I carried around for years. Memories I felt so ashamed of.

Trauma is a creepy little bastard. It’s painful, so you bury it down. In fact, your brain loves you so much, that it will protect you by erasing these painful memories all together.  You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you’re over it. Your brain might even believe it — but the truth is, trauma lives mostly in your body, in your nervous system. This is why the symptoms of PTSD can feel so visceral.

You hear the key in the lock, you jump off the sofa and make yourself look busy. Flight.

You often struggle to do anything other than feel numb. Freeze.

You punch a hole in the door. Fight.

There is power in self-awareness. If you can get to the root of why you feel the way you feel, you can start to take positive steps toward freeing yourself from the chains that come with trauma.

You can seek out therapy. Better Help offers an excellent online service. If you live in the UK, you might be entitled to free therapy on the NHS.

You can speak to your doctor.

You can look into PTSD and Complex PTSD, read about it. The Body Keeps the Score by Dr Bessel Van Der Kolk is excellent. knowledge is power.

You can try yoga, meditation, or other holistic approaches.

Because I spent a lot of my childhood feeling unloved and unseen, I spent a lot of my adult life seeking love and validation from others. I was terrified of what people would think of me, and carried a deep rooted feeling of people not liking me.

Because I spent a lot of my childhood feeling scared, I spent a lot of my adult life avoiding confrontation — becoming a massive people-pleaser. Sacrificing my own needs just so people wouldn’t get mad with me.

Because I spent a lot of my childhood being emotionally neglected, I spent a lot of my adult life feeling unworthy. Why would any one care?

I now see that I am worthy, I am lovable — I am loved. I don’t have to please anyone, and if people happen to be confrontational, it’s on them — not me. I am seen.

Most people have been through something traumatic. Like me, you might think your experiences don’t count — but they do.

Been through a painful break-up? Lost a loved one? Had a partner who controlled you, criticised you, or made you feel small? Been a caregiver for someone who was ill? Lived through financial instability? Lived with a parent who struggled with addiction or mental health issues? Your trauma is valid. It is yours, and nobody can ever know how it feels to be you.

I know there are a lot of people out there who don’t believe this stuff — who think phrases such as PTSD are overused to gain attention. I know there are a lot of people who think, “just get over it.” This was me once upon a time. It took a friend to just ask me one simple question: “You okay, man?”

Well, are you ok?