Staring Trauma in the Face

When I was diagnosed with Complex-PTSD, I was shocked. I thought I was doing well at life. I had it all together. I thought I was strong because everything I’d been through hadn’t negatively impacted my life or made me a “victim.”

I was so wrong. What it really did was make me good at wearing When I was diagnosed with PTSD, I was shocked. I thought I was doing well at life. I had it all together. I thought I was strong because everything I’d been through hadn’t negatively impacted my life or made me a “victim.” I was so wrong. What it really did was make me good at wearing armor I was never meant to put on in the first place. What it did was leave me disconnected from important truths in my heart.

In my post-trauma constructed world, vulnerability equaled susceptibility. I was deeply security conscious and situationally aware at all times. In other, more honest, words – I lived with a lot of anxiety and fear that I pretended was something else in an effort to make it useful to me.

So when a psychologist tole me that, while I may have been “high-functioning,” I did, in fact, have Complex-PTSD - it left me with an important choice. I could ignore this expert because their words insulted my created world. Or, I could listen to this expert and realize that I was living with a broken heart that was impacting every part of my life.

One of the most important things my therapist taught me at the beginning of this journey was how to correctly see my trauma. She asked me if I’d ever seen a medical drama when someone is rushed to the hospital having been impaled. I had. Then she blew my mind and said, “think of trauma as the foreign object impaling you.”

Just as it is physically impossible to heal from a wound like that if it’s ignored, I wasn't going to heal from trauma if it was ignored.

At this point I made a decision that I look back on as one of the most important in my life. I chose to pull my brokenness to the surface. I chose to stare it in the face, lean into the discomfort, and address it directly.

I decided to stop pretending I hadn't been impaled.

I hope, if anyone reads this at the start of a healing journey, or in the middle of the messy parts, you feel hope. Lean in to the discomfort. Don't be afraid to pull your brokenness to the surface.

Healing is for the brave. And that's exactly what you are.