A Letter to Myself After My PTSD Recovery Program
We were asked to write a letter to ourselves as part of a post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) recovery program. It was mailed to us by the team three months later.
This letter is to acknowledge all the hard work it has taken to bring you to this moment in your life. I know how much you struggle with your worthiness and purpose. You are not responsible for your trauma.
You have been given the tools, therapy and insights to live your best life now. You cannot change the past. Stay grounded and in the present tense. This is where safety lives. Laugh, cry, scream, smile. Give yourself permission to live a unguarded life.
I know the “old you” is reminding you of your trauma, but please put down the backpack of shame and guilt you have been carrying all these years. It’s time to put it down. It’s far too heavy a burden to carry another day. Even Jesus only went to the cross once. No human is expected to do so daily!
Remember, “We only do what we think it’s best at the time. When we know different, we do differently.” Dare to do better, live better and forgive yourself better. Love yourself with the same measure of love you bestow upon others, unconditionally and without judgement.
Remember how to balance and remember what throws you off course. Make self-care a priority. Eat enough, take risks and socialize with family and friends who bring out the best in you. Be honest about where you are and what you need.
When you are tempted to lay down with your demons and sleep through your life, get yourself up! Call someone, go for a walk, sing with the radio, dance in the kitchen, buy chocolate, color your hair, plant sunflowers, meditate or hug someone. Live life. Don’t fear it. It’s far too short to not embrace should tomorrow never come.
Make all your relationships as important as your children — especially your relationship with yourself. Let others love you as fully as you love them. Don’t continue to nurture unhealthy relationships that are toxic to you.
Keep your boundaries high enough to protect yourself, but keep your walls low enough to let loved ones in.
Never forget healing — like wellness, is a journey, not a cure. When you stumble, remember you are still moving forward.
Take a deep cleansing breath and try again.
You can do this thing called life.
Arms open wide,
The Mighty is asking its readers the following: If you could go back to the day you (or a loved one) got a diagnosis, what would you tell yourself? Check out our Submit a Story page for more about our submission guidelines.