In my first memoir, I show the extent and causes of my personal damage and my first steps toward healing and empowering myself.
In my second memoir, which I'm working on now, I show my experience with homelessness, faith, and healing the Major Depression that plagued my life.
In the third memoir, which I'm living now, I'm figuring out how to heal my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and resulting anxiety. Now that the depression is gone, what remains is fear. I've felt the fear for so long, as long as I can remember in fact, that I had to recognize myself in someone who suffers from severe anxiety before I really noticed it.
There are so many sources for my particular brand of PTSD. I could have felt my mother's fear while I was still in her womb and my father was abusing her, and I'm sure I witnessed the abuse as a toddler. My mother abused me when I was a child, and died while I was a child. I was raped at 17, and three more times when I was 18 or 19. (One of my coping mechanisms is poor memory. I don't remember most of my life. Which makes memoir writing even more of a challenge!)
Somehow, though I was diagnosed with PTSD when I was a teenager, I only recently realized that I have anxiety issues. Bright lights, sudden movement, sudden noises, loud noises, repetitive noises, subwoofers blasting bass, and suddenly becoming aware of someone's presence...these things don't just startle or irritate me - they terrify me and set off my fight/flight response. My body responds to those everyday occurrences as if its life was in danger.
First I tense up, adrenaline flowing freely. At that point, I might notice what's happening and calm myself with breathing exercises or a change of scenery, or even a bit of humor to diffuse the tension.
But if I'm distracted and don't notice my need for relief, or if I'm unable to get away, the tension builds and the fear turns to rage. Like the incredible Hulk, but way less dramatic. It's a fear/rage monster, and if I haven't had enough food, sleep, or stress relief, that monster can and will take control of my body and say and do violent, abusive things.
When the monster takes over, I don't have to throw things, or scream. All I have to do is look at my poor toddler, and he will burst into tears and run away, and I will realize that he saw the monster in my eyes, calm myself the fudge down, and go find and comfort and apologize to my baby.
Thank the Gods I know my triggers, how to calm myself; how to take care of myself, to step away from my baby so I don' t make him a victim; how to apologize when I hurt his feelings or frighten him, and how to get us both laughing so we heal those little wounds before they become scars, or worse.
My plan is to heal the anxiety, not just manage it. I'm learning how to trust the inherent goodness in myself and in the Universe. This time next year, I want to truthfully say, "I healed my PTSD." I want to be able to sleep soundly through the night, feeling totally safe and secure. I want to know in my heart as I know in my head that everything is and will always be exactly what I need it to be in the moment.
I want to teach my son to have that faith, that trust, that security.
