The Dilemma of Fixing Thy Self

As a mother, I’ve really enjoyed my small victories. This weekend, my son was staying at his grandmother’s. Today, I was a complete badass and had a killer day. Cleaned the pine-needles, sand and stuck on food out the car. I wrapped all the presents, coordinated paper so mom and Santa appeared to be different gift-givers. I even spent 3 hours at the salon this morning to fix my COVID hair.

Tonight, I was delighted in my decision to cook for myself instead of eating left over mac-n-cheese. I deserved to order-in but chalked that up to being a good adult-decision I should make today

I was rocking out in the kitchen, cooking, and flirting through some dating-app with a dad of four.

Then the PTSD strikes.

Today though, I accepted it. I left the emotions overwhelm me. I am a strong, modern woman who has no fears. I search for fears so I can overcome them. I eat them for breakfast. With that big of an ego I never have any fears. They don’t even have the balls to show up.

Today was different. I allowed the emotions to come and flow through me. I realized if I fix myself, I fear I will lose that part of myself that I earned. I earned my hardships and successes. I’ve earned all my experiences. I’ve made a lot of mistakes and I’m OK with that. I’ve always liked that I’ve survived my dumb-ass choices and are here to make fun of myself. However, I am in therapy with the intention of doing EMDR and ridding myself of trauma.

The trauma from PTSD can take hold like a two-ton blanket and keep you in the fetal position for the entire weekend. It will take you out constantly if you don’t constantly work to ward of the evil spirits. When I was first asked if I wanted to be referred for EMDR treatment I accepted without hesitation. “Sign me up!” I exclaimed.

Over time, my therapy continues to help me groove in my normal badass-accomplishing rhythm. I am happy with my progress. I’m not perfect, but I can progress to a point that I can forget I have PTSD. I can navigate the world in a fancy dance avoiding any triggers.

As this ghost of a demon joined me in the kitchen, it took a hold of my legs. It wrapped its arms around my chest. It has a visible existence: My shadow of a reflection in the darkened window is this apparition. It comes to join me when I am alone.

If I moved, it would have taken my legs out from under me. Weak, but still standing I let it hug me, keeping me upright as a rainstorm from my eyes seeped my shirt.

Wilted like dehydrated plant, I realized my dilemma. If I go through with the desensitization process, I fear it will wipe clean the beauty of the memory. For those of us who have seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I wasn’t willing to completely give up the memory. I earned those disgusting, traumatic, and gory stories. I am afraid the heart-swells, learning, and love from those stories will also disappear.

I like to think one of my future selves will be a stand-up comic. It is commonly known that Comedy is Tragedy plus Time. Will I be taking away my hard-earned humor that has given so much side-splitting, cheek-hurting laughter? I spent so much time, energy, and bruises on buying a ticket on this rollercoaster ride of emotions I never had before. If there is no bad, will I not have any good? There would be no light without dark.

Here I am feeling feelings like a human-being. I used to be so cold, dry, and determined. I didn’t know I was capable of being loving, loved, caring, hilarious, fun, and a wonderful mother. Yes, I want to keep becoming better, but I had to get here somehow. Oh, what a dream it is to be happy and healthy without fault. Most days, I have that. For this reason called fear, I’m holding on to keeping this demon around. Is it fear of loneliness? Is it fear of loss? Is it the fear of freedom?

It’s the fear of not wanting to lose the award-winning speech I delivered in a town-hall in front of 100’s of people. The only reason why I made everyone cry is because the abuse I suffered that morning before I went to speak. It masked so perfectly. I appeared that I was tore up over the story I was telling. Truth is, I was tore up that morning and had to give the speech anyway.

I don’t want to tell my therapist what happened that day. I don’t want to erase that entire day. I would have been applauded it without being abused that morning. I’m scared to lose the raw, honest memory that it was in real life. However, taking this jump for a better future self will not change the past. It will only add to more understanding on the spectrum of what craziness life offers

Simply, allowing myself to be fearful was my biggest victory of today. Once that happened, turning the fear into a hurdle was easy.

& Hell yeah, I jumped it with substantial clearance.