When I Called Myself 'Us' After a Scary Flashback
I got caught in an emotional PTSD flashback today. It was by far the most scary and intense one I’ve ever experienced. I was scared and trying to just survive for most of the day after that. Journaling about it later, I realized I had called myself “us” at the most intense point in my retelling. This confused me, as it is not a mistake in writing that I would ordinarily make. It did not “feel like” an error, though, so I had to ask myself…
Why would I instinctively call myself “us” instead of “I?”
The answer that came to me was so simple I feel it would be easy to overlook in a search for deeper meaning.
I called myself “us” because if “I” am not “us” then “I” would feel really “alone” during the frightening times. There were so many frightening times in my childhood. And I couldn’t tell anybody. I had been told my life depended on it.
As a child the big people were so powerful, and my options for feeling safe were so very limited (often non-existent.) I lived on adrenaline and fear. As an adult I know I’m not the only one who lived that way. While I was a child, that was a very solitary place to be, especially as the older child in charge of a younger child’s safety (as well my own) with no guarantees he and I would make it to the next day.
Thankfully that’s not true anymore. But to get past the fear and reactivity, to improve my mental health, I’m going to have to improve how I interact with people, and hopefully be willing to open my circle to depend on others outside of myself… a bit at a time.
I just have to practice bravery.
I must reach out to those who are willing to share space with me. (And try, again.)
I must reach out to those willing to walk this briar-filled and rock-strewn path with me for awhile. (As scary as it is to admit it, I need to accept their failures as they have accepted mine.)
I want to grow more secure in my own general everyday safety around others. If I feel safe I will be more able to practice kindness to others, which will help me to establish and look after everyday relationships without as much anxiety. I think this also becomes more possible as I keep this in mind: Each of us are war-torn heros in this battle of life.
Be mindful.
Feel safe.
Be kind.
Follow this journey on Blue Light House.
Photo by Andriyko Podilnyk on Unsplash
I had a wonderful childhood for 9 years. (RIP Daddy.) After his passing, I started having panic attacks at school (private school), disassociating to survive the neglect, violence and death threats at home. I also began planning my own suicide. These were my 4th and 5th grade years. Certain adult family member(s) called me "immature" to my face when I was unable to keep up with the responsibilities that were placed on my slim shoulders. I choose now to believe they were mostly unaware of the terror my brother and I suffered. Fast forward to adulthood and I will admit it... I have struggled with not believing in myself at all bc I was always told everything I did was wrong. In my 20's I literally believed that not a single soul on this earth actually loved me except for what I would do for them (my mother included,) and I've nearly suffocated under undiagnosed mental health issues for decades, until the last 15 years or so, bc in our family only "weak" people needed therapy. And you'd better not make the family look bad! Have you been there? Geez. I am happy to say that, as a believer who loves Jesus Christ that he is my source of hope every day. "I will bless you with a future filled with HOPE--a future of success, not of suffering. Jeremiah 29:11
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