A Collective of memoirs by J.S. about Trauma + Mental Health + Abuse + Healing.
All week I have felt weak.
Weak in my body.
Weak in my heart.
Weak in my spirit.
I have revisited horrible memories and experiences, drudged up horrific trauma and talked about things I supressed for over a decade.
It was the least bit relieving...at first.
As the week winds down, I find myself wanting to nap the day away. My focus cannot hold past mindless activities.
And yet, deep within my mind I feel something brewing.
A rumbling in the cavity.
I have been resistant to the gear up.
To leap into the NEW.
All I have ever known was trauma. Dysfunction. Disappointment.
Even though I have been on my own for many years and then finally married and made a family, I have had the haunting feeling that everything will come crashing down.
That I will only discover problems and struggles.
That happiness was a light I was never meant to bask in and headlights were the only thing i chased.
As it turns out, that was my trauma speaking.
A little whisper telling me that everything is going to blow up in my face. So i better hold my breathe to cushion the blow.
I have been holding my breathe for 5 years.
In fact, even longer than that.
Literally and figuratively, I have found it hard to breathe and have just tried to survive the calm.
Calm feels almost scarier than trauma, because it is like the tide going out.
We know it will drown us when it comes back.
And it always does.
I have felt so heavy this week, so I took a step back from my work and blogging to get extra sleep and take care of myself.
It's funny how when you wait for something for so long, the wait almost feels more exciting than the end surprise.
All this time, my symptoms have been "preparing me" for the tide to come back in.
Anxiety has had me splashing my own face with cool water, you know "to get used to the pain ahead of time".
That is what PTSD and anxiety have done to me.
Little splash in the morning after I wake.
A lovely wash up after breakfast.
A mid day wash.
And so on.
Little sprinkles of:
"This is going to be ruined."
"You are NOT cut out for this."
"You have never shown consistency."
"Drama comes to you."
"This was a NICE run."
"It was good while it lasted."
Today I got tired of the bullshit.
That rumbling turned out NOT to be the BOOM I was anticipating.
AFTER YEARS OF WAITING ON MY LIFE AFTER ABUSE TO SOME HOW ONLY, INEVITABLY BE A SERIES OF CHAPTERS IN A PROTAGONISTS TALE.....
I have come to the end of a book.
One I have read for 29 years now, thinking I had predicted the end.
Like all of us, I thought the end would bring some crazy twist or cliff hanger.
But the last pages, I am now realizing end perfectly.
The closure of not a lifetime, but a book.
A single book in an entire series.
This story is NOT about a tragedy.
Not even close.
I was only reading an introduction to a
I thought holding my breathe was a way to brace the inevitable trauma, when all this time it was a way to not breathe in the toxic fumes I survived.
The take away of the first book is that I SURVIVED.
And there was no tide coming back in for me.
I had left that beach all together the day I left trauma behind.
PTSD has a funny way of playing with our surroundings.
Making us think we are somewhere we are not.
Like being on a beach in the chill of winter, at the wrong place in the wrong time. Just waiting for the splash, even though it will never be fun to swim without the sun.
That was not the theme of the book.
And it is not the theme of my life.
It is not the theme of yours either.
For some, it is a page. Others may have chapters.
You may think you have a whole book dedicated to it.
But you are not finished yet.
Something this evening hit me. First in mind and then in heart.
I need to play BIG.
I need to embody a new character and identity for the next book.
The one who is powerful after enduring so much, like the introduction taught you.
What does she do?
Where does she go?
How does she LEAP into amazing things?
One thing she does not do is sit in the sand on a cold winter's evening, crying that the water will soon come back to freeze her toes.
She takes action and becomes someone she wants to be.
She makes sure the ending of the series is
J.S. JADED SAVIOR
Content mention of Rape, Abuse, Neglect, Addictions, Mental Illness, Kidnap, Molestation, Child abuse, Teen Pregnancy, Abortion, birth, body image, gender/identity dysphoria, sexuality, personal trauma, domestic violence and other extremely personal stories. Please practice caution. I am not a licensed physician or mental health professional. No medical prescribing is provided on this site, Only personal insights, experience stories, and advice; All stories published have had prior authorization. Questions? Contact Jean at: firstname.lastname@example.org
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