When I finished over 16 years of hospice social work I was an emotional wreck – too much and too long. My final cases held numerous children who spoke to my own early wounding. In recent years I had been rocked by a wave of losses in my own family and among my closest friends. It was the perfect storm.
My melt down was titled acute stress disorder. When it held on and I developed a nasty experience of nightmares, flash backs, hyper-arousal, intrusive memories, and memory loss it got renamed PTSD – post traumatic stress disorder.
It was a time of immeasurable hurting, terror and a foggy blur. I have fought back to achieve a degree of stability with a combination of difficult therapies. I know it will be a lifelong reality but triggers are less frequent and I have an arsenal of tools and a support network to rely on. Life is again joyful and I am intentional about honoring my health.
In the midst of this catastrophe when I was eating a lot of brown rice (all my physical being could handle), I decided to write. I wanted or needed to capture what I had been taught by those who had died. In about 5 days of cathartic expression I penned 15 chapters and then set them aside. It is now close to 13 years later; I am healthy; and I am curious. I have decided to uncover these writings and remember. My next series of blogs will be about this reintegration. Some of it I will share direct…some will have changed names and some will offer a new perspective.
It is time.