#PTSD #BipolarDepression #BirthTrauma
“Just because someone carried it well, does not mean it wasn’t heavy..”
I’m impressed tonight by poignant hurts and burdens we carry quietly. These wounds rarely warrant public approval or support. We won’t get a rally cry. These aren’t Facebook worthy troubles fit for comfortable social discussions.
I pieced together some jagged edges of my self reflection the day I gave birth to Clara. While the obvious physical intensity ran through me, it was harsh judgements and cruel sarcasm from the hospital staff that ripped into my soul. These subtle and more personal hurts took longer to recover from. My body took stitches, my heart wanted kindness.
“You won’t get a trophy for that...”
And we mostly don’t get trophies, just as our hardest days aren’t posted and our deepest burdens aren’t always known openly.
I wish I had these words then: Clara is my trophy!
I do celebrate her publicly and daily, anywhere and everywhere we go. She makes my burdens seem easier, she brings purpose to my pains and experience. I remember earlier traumas less now than ever.
Instead of asserting how someone else is carrying, or if their hardships qualify... assume they’re doing their best with hard things. Assume you don’t know every aspect of their difficulties! Assume that they carry MUCH more than you may gather from a quick introduction, a Facebook timeline, or a causal friendship.
Instead of figuring someone out, reach out.
Tread with tenderness; speak softly.
Create some light and bring kindness with you.
At the hospital I didn’t have visible evidence of past pains, complex ptsd, or a network of self loathing... but appearing calm under pain did not make me less worthy of kindness than anyone else in labor and delivery. My burdens were quiet but heavy. When someone does not appear to suffer or hurt like you, does not mean they do not carry heavy things.
Sometimes the quiet hurts are heaviest.