The last few weeks have felt all too familiar for a lot of us. It took me a while to understand why.
Growing up surrounded by trauma, your body lives in a state of chaos. The fight, flight, or freeze response is always present. Adrenaline circulates your body. Startle reflexes at every corner. Second-guessing every thought, and every person. Are they safe? Can you trust them? These same reactions and thoughts have crept back into my reality.
My creativity is gone. My energy has left as well. Big plans for a new book, a clean, organized house are taunting me. I am exhausted, and yet I have not increased any workload. I didn’t understand this and beat myself up over it. The negative self-talk took over my reality.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the feelings were eerily similar. It wasn’t until I read a post online that compared what is happening in the World with trauma. With everything that is happening, our fight and flight responses have been activated. But, there is nothing to fight, and we are forbidden to flee. The only option we have at this moment is to freeze. Our bodies slow down to self-preserve.
This is why you are exhausted. This is why you feel uneasy. If you have lived through trauma (and if we’re being honest, who hasn’t?), then you have felt this before. If this is new to you, you are in good company.
Trauma survivors and people living with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) know what you are going through. We know what it’s like not to trust anyone, not know where the threat is coming from, or when it might attack. We know what it’s like to feel anxious and uneasy in our own skin. We are used to being exhausted, even after a full night of sleep. We know how to worry like no one’s business. Depression isn’t just a trendy word to us. We get it.
What you are feeling is real. It is legitimate. It is scary. It can change your life. Things are out of your control. The lack of control increases the fear. The fear increases the anxiety. The anxiety increases the exhaustion. The cycle starts again, and again. Your breathing increases, and panic sets in. Racing thoughts and lack of oxygen. How will you survive?
Oh, but you will. You will find the light in the corner of the darkness. You will push out those negative thoughts, one by one (maybe letter by letter). You will find a way to breathe. You will take it one day, one minute, one second at a time.
Some of the worst trauma still haunts us, but you continue to live. You do only what you can. Be proud of your accomplishments, even if it is only that you were able to open your eyes and get out of bed. Look for the little things, because they will become the big things. It is all in perspective.
When you feel the walls closing in on you, reach for something you are grateful for. I know, sometimes, it is hard even to do that. Don’t give up on yourself. You matter. Someone loves you. Someone can’t wait to hear your voice. Someone thinks you are amazing. Someone is looking up to you.
Be gentle on yourself. Be okay with doing only what you can. Cry if you need to. Feel everything that comes. Don’t give up. Don’t let the panic, or the fear, or the negative thoughts take over. You are not in this alone, no matter how much it may feel like you are.
And think of how much stronger this will have made you. You have what it takes. Don’t forget it.
What is self love?? I’m glad you asked the question.
Honestly, My mind is weary so I had to look it up:
Self-love means having a high regard for your own well-being and happiness. Self-love means taking care of your own needs and not sacrificing your well-being to please others. Self-love means not settling for less than you deserve.
That was a hard concept to learn growing up. I’m sure many of you can relate. Words like, you’re not wanted, I never wanted you in the first place, you don’t deserve it, you’re worthless etc. you know the drill. They pack a wallop and leave scars that at first feel like they will never heal. Then you throw in being taken advantage of physically and your well being gets smaller and smaller as if you become almost invisible. You let their words and actions speak louder than your heart. In your heart you know there’s got to be a better way, Please let there be a better way. Your path is laden with pot holes that you keep falling into until one day it’s possible: you start only tripping over the holes, then you start walking around the holes and finally you realize it’s time to take a whole new path. Some people find it on their own, some through a spiritual connection. I found my path to freedom through my hope and faith in God. My ex husband said let’s go to your friends church “ one day. You’ll never guess what the sermon was about? Dysfunctional relationships /Abusive relationships. The minister asked anyone who had been a victim of a form of abuse as well as anyone who had been a perpetrator to come forward for prayer. Everyone, including me, went forward except for one man. Yup, you guessed it. my ex For me seeing over a hundred plus people go forward spoke volumes and I began to talk to the pastors’ wife and others. They gave me books to read and said they were praying for me. Long story short, within a short time I was placed in a safe house with my daughter. He eventually found us, somehow and at the very moment he pulled in, the pastor of the church did too. That was the first true day to my journey towards freedom. He argued with the minister and the minister fired right back at him. So he went away more or less. Fortunately Through the love and counsel I received, I began to know that unconditional love was possible and the first person I needed to forgive and love was myself. I found a home at the local motel where they let me live in exchange for housekeeping work. Eventually I learned to care for myself enough to try front desk work then was promoted to manager then on and on toward finding my freedom. Today through special funding via NH Community Loan Fund, I now own a very modest Mobile home and I share it with my family. I’m blessed to work close by and have a peace that I always knew in my heart of hearts was out there. I’m so very thankful for my freedom and for those that have been a stepping stone along the path to get here. I’m convinced that I’m definitely not done going forward and that God continues to have an awesome plan for my life. Take heart dear ones, your path to freedom is near at hand. Take your first step. Learn to love yourself, step out !!! YOU are so worth it. Happy February ❤️💕🌸🎈👏🏻🎶🤩🎉🎊😍🤗🥰😘❤️🎈
Positive self-talk We all have that voice in our head that tells us all the horrible things we dislike about our self. This internal dialogue can cause havoc to our self-esteem and self-worth. To help change this, every time you catch yourself using negative self-talk, change it to something positive. Examples: I am kind. I am enough. I am beautiful. I am powerful. I am worthy. I deserve the respect of others.
Have Compassion For Yourself It is so much easier to have compassion for others, but you are worth the same love and compassion you give to others. If you were to step back, and imagine someone else had lived the life you have, or been through the things you have, I bet you could find empathy, love, and understanding. This was a big Ah-ha moment for me. It allowed me to understand my situation with much more compassion. Instead of thinking I wasn’t strong enough, or it wasn’t “that bad,” I was able to understand how strong I had been. No one is perfect, don’t be so hard on yourself. Give yourself some compassion.
Get Out of Your Comfort Zone For people who have lived in trauma, self-love isn’t comfortable. Push yourself out of your comfort zone, and allow yourself to love YOU. If at first you don’t succeed, keep getting uncomfortable and try again. You are worth the uncomfortableness to realize how amazing you truly are.
Tell Yourself “I Love You.” Every time you walk by a mirror, stop and say, “I love you.” If that feels a little too weird at first, start with saying, “I am enough.” Every time you see your reflection, whether it is in a storefront window, on the side of a shiny car, or in the mirror, stop and say it. Look at yourself in the eyes and say the words you tell others. Say them, and then work on believing them.
Practice Makes Progress Practice your self-love practice everyday. The more you do it, the more you will start to believe it. At first, it might feel a little odd, but you are worth it. You are important. You matter. Now, get to work, and start loving your beautiful self.
The best way to seek revenge on all the people who hurt you, is to love yourself. If they taught you to believe you were unlovable, prove them wrong. When you love yourself, everything else falls into place. Self-love is the first step to taking back your power.
Be gentle on yourself. You’ve got this. You are worth it.
What is self-love? Doesn’t sound like a hard question, right?
When someone has lived in chaos and trauma, self-love is not something that is learned. In fact, it is furthest from reality.
You’re nothing without me.
You’re a waste of space.
Have you looked at yourself lately?
When you hear the same things over and over again, you begin to believe it. How could you not? Subliminal and not so subliminal messages are being fed to you on a daily basis. How can you stop the negative self-talk, when you do not have any other frame of reference. You use all the strength you have just to make it to the next day, there is nothing left to fight the thoughts that make up who you are. How can you love someone who seems unlovable?
When someone told me I had to love myself in order to love others my defense went up. I was angry at the thought. How dare they say that to me. How dare they tell me I have to love myself. In that moment it was an impossible ask. I was not in a place that I felt I deserved love. I thought it was my job to love and take care of others. I did not even make it on my list of priorities.
The next time someone said this to me, I took a step back. Maybe there was something to this. I watched others around me, and noticed our differences. I looked for small ways I could try to put myself first. The small steps pushed me to grad school, and that was where the real magic happened.
Each month I felt myself come a little more out of the haze of the illusions that surrounded me. The more steps I took out of the fog, the more I was able to see how I wanted to be treated by others. Before this, I didn’t think I had a choice. If someone wanted to take advantage of me, I didn’t say no. When I started to see my worth the people around me didn’t like it. It wasn’t as easy to push me around like they used to. I slowly learned how to say no.
Self-love was a long process for me. I had years of reprogramming. Years of clearing out the spaces that had been filled with violence and fear. The excuses poured in from every direction. The what if’s filled the air.
Some days I was able to push them under the surface, while other times I wasn’t as successful. The fear and doubt won. But, I didn’t give up. I kept trying to fight my way through the thick muck of self-loathing and self-doubt to the land of self-love.
Abusers use these weaknesses they see in us. They feed off of our self-doubt, and assure us we are all the bad things we can conger up in our minds. Self-love takes our power back. When we don’t believe the awful things we used to tell ourselves any longer, we won’t believe when they say them either. When they put their hands on us, we know we don’t deserve it. We know we are worth more. We are worthy of love; our love. We are worthy of safe love. We are worthy of happiness.
We. Are. Worthy.
Do you have a story of your self-love journey you would like to share? I’m looking to share stories of self-love this month. Send me a mesasage at firstname.lastname@example.org if you would like to share your self-love story. The best weapon against domestic violence is education and sharing our stories.
We will make a difference. One voice at a time.
Can you think of ways you practice self-love? I’d love to hear about them! I’ll share some ideas in the next blog.
For as long as I can remember, I have always had a dog, sometimes many. My childhood was not filled with happy memories; but it was filled with love and lots of fur. There were many times in my life where I didn’t have friends, well not the human kind, but I always had a friend in my dogs.
I was lucky to have dogs at home and at my gram’s house, and even at my dad’s house for much of my time there. Some of my earliest memories are of times spent outside playing with my four legged friends. My gram had a hound dog, Daisy, who she adopted when she failed to make a great hunting dog. She was tall and lean and brown spots covered her silky white coat. She was older when we met, and to escape from some of the other dogs my gram had, she would rest on the floor of my gram’s closet. She made the perfect companion when I needed to escape from the world with a book. I remember many days when we sat together under coat tails and slacks.
Another friend was Jake. He was a handsome red Golden Retriever. He was gentle and patient and made a great friend to lay on the floor under a comforter in front of the television while I colored. He was a calm old guy, who could always make me feel safe. When he went for rides with us he loved to sing. A favorite song of ours had lyrics that went sort of like this: We’re going for a ride, and we’re never coming back, and the train goes choo-choo. A little darker than I remember as a kid, but he loved it and howled along with us. I can still see his smile as he sat in the back seat between my brother and me.
A sleek black Doberman Pitbull mix was one of the many dogs that lived with us when we moved in with my dad. She was my guardian, and tried her hardest to keep me safe. This often resulted in her getting hit or kicked out of the way. When a neighbor boy broke into our home as a joke, she was the first to greet him with a fierce bite…he learned to never try that again. She came to Bob’s house with us when we left my dad, and her fine judge of character skills was sharp…he knew the easiest way to get away with being miserable was to get rid of Zuul. He pulled her tail and when she growled at him we had to find her a new home. That was one of the hardest goodbyes, because she didn’t understand why she couldn’t come home with us. I felt like I had let her down. In hindsight, she probably had a much better life without him in it.
Candy was a sensitive Husky that lived with my dad and his mom. She was white with grey course fur. She loved me as her own, even though we didn’t see each other that often. My dad could be cruel, but she loved him no matter what. After he died, she would sit at the end of her leash on the top of my grandmother’s lawn waiting for my dad to return. She eventually died of a broken heart. She was my savior when I visited my grandmother and dad. I didn’t speak unless I was hungry, thirsty, or wanted to go to the bathroom, but Candy didn’t care. She sat with me and let me pat her as anxiety and fear circulated my insides.
Lady, a slender Golden Retriever with long red hair came home with my mom one day she went to the grain store. She came to us with two names because her previous owners were in the middle of a custody battle over her and couldn’t even agree what to call her. My mom said the man said if she didn’t take her he was going to shoot her. My mom could never resit a new pet and Lady came to live with us.
Lady quickly became my best friend. There were many days she was my only friend. She was sweet and motherly, giving me the love and comfort I couldn’t find in my mom. She played hide and seek and tag with me. Some days when my sister and I were at school Lady would walk the half mile to see if she could find us. Teachers sent her home, but she was always looking for us. When I moved in with my gram, a scratch at the door would let us know Lady was there for a visit. She would sit on the couch with me or even lay on my bed with me while I listened to sad 90s music. She would stay with me until my mom yelled over for her to return for the night.
When I was seventeen Lady was at the end of her life. She had Cancer and we were told we had to say goodbye. I went to the vets with my mom and stayed with her as they administered the dose that would stop her sweet, gentle heart. I lost my best friend that day, and vowed to never let any other dog past my wall because I never wanted to feel that pain again.
Toby was an early Christmas gift the year my dad died. He was a long haired mix with big brown eyes. His brown, white and black fur never stayed neat, much like how I wore my hair. He was my first dog I could call my own. He loved me and helped me through my first real loss. He came with me when I went to stay at my gram’s house, and later, when I was in foster care, he was able to live with me too. He got me through many emotional days and nights. He knew all of my secrets and loved me just the same. After losing Lady, I still loved Toby, but I distanced myself enough to not feel the pain. I honestly do not remember now how or when Toby died.
Abbie and Scott are the dogs that came into my life as an adult. After a few years of not having any dogs in my life these two became part of the family. The vow to not get too close still stood, and even though their love and sweetness exuded from them, I did not want to let myself get hurt again. They have been through a lot as pets in a domestic violence household. They were both abused and still give as much love as they can. Abbie was depressed and Scott has anxiety due to the environment they were in for the first few years of their life.
When we were able to escape the domestic violence I started dating. I knew I didn’t want to be with someone like the man we escaped. I knew right away George was different. He had a best friend, Belvedere, a sweet, intelligent yellow lab. When I met Belvedere I was impressed with their relationship. George and Belvedere loved each other and I knew when I saw them together my initial thought was correct.
Belvedere’s love was strong. His big, brown eyes held so much love and he was eager to share it. Right away he let me share George with him, and as my love for George grew, so did my love for Belvedere. The wall I had built so many years ago when I lost Lady slowly began to crumble. Maybe it was because I was finally in a safe relationship, being loved for who I was, or maybe it was because Belvedere was so much like Lady. The same gentle spirit and enormous heart. It was impossible to keep his love out.
As my wall crumbled I was able to receive Abbie and Scott’s love. Now three dogs held my heart after so many years of closing it off. With great love comes great pain. That was something I knew, but chose to forget.
On my birthday this year we took Belvedere to the vets because he wasn’t acting right and it looked like he had gained a lot of weight. We were told he had a large mass in his belly area and the outcome was most likely poor. We scheduled the needed ultrasound for the next appointment, the day after the Holiday, and it was confirmed he had a mass on his spleen. Emergency surgery was the only option that we were given that could possibly save him. We were leaving for New York for our wedding just days away. An opening for the surgery was available the very next day, which would allow him to travel with us to be part of our big day.
The day of his surgery I waited for the call to let me know he was OK. I waited. And waited. And waited, until the phone finally rang. It was the vet telling me they had him in the operating room and found that the growth had spread to other parts of his body and asked if we wanted her to continue. I knew in my heart he would make it through surgery, and she had to continue. A few hours later we got the call that he did make it and we were allowed to bring him home to recover.
Four days after his surgery he took the six hour drive to New York with us and he was able to share the day with us. He even wore a matching bow tie. When we returned from our trip we had a message to call the vet, the results from the biopsy had came in. It was now George’s birthday. It was the day we learned Belvedere had cancer. It was the day the hope we held that he was going to be OK faded away. We made an appointment to talk about treatment options, and tried a few. Still the cancer was spreading, and we were told it was only a matter of time.
How do you live everyday knowing it might be the last day with one of your best friends? The first few months after his surgery he was like his old self. He wanted to play ball, he wanted treats, and he gave lots of love. His eyes sparkled and his tail wagged. As the days passed, his energy drifted away, but his appetite didn’t leave. He was changing, but he was still full of love.
A couple weeks ago we knew his days with us were limited. George’s one wish was for Belvedere to make it to Thanksgiving with us. It was his favorite Holiday, because he loved turkey so much. The Wednesday before Belvedere’s appetite had left and he was having a hard time walking. As he laid on the kitchen floor I sat with him and gave him Reiki. I sent the intention to take his pain away and let him enjoy his favorite day. When we went to bed he came with us, and early in the morning he got sick. A few hours later, after he took his medication, he became his old self for a few hours. He was in the kitchen with me as I cooked our Thanksgiving meal, and he napped by the oven as the aroma from the turkey circulated around him.
When it was time to eat, he was by George’s side, something he had stopped doing before. His happy eyes and smile returned as we gave him turkey and ate our meal. Thanksgiving was a good day, for him, and us.
On Saturday morning he stopped eating and started having a hard time walking. He didn’t come up to bed with us. His tail still wagged, and he used all of his energy to give as much love as he could. We knew the time we didn’t want to come had arrived. We hoped we were wrong, but on Monday morning, we knew we had to let him go.
Because Belvedere hated the car, the vet was able to make a home visit the following day. We spent as much time as we could with him. When I had to leave the house to get the kids, Abbie left the comfort of the couch to lay with Belvedere on the kitchen floor until we returned. Even Abbie loved Belvedere.
On Tuesday we all spent time with Belvedere to say our goodbyes. When I returned home that morning, he took the last of his energy to greet me for the last time as I returned home. The day was gloomy, cloudy and snowy. When the vet arrived the sun came out, and as we sat on the floor with Belvedere a rainbow danced on his back. As sad as I was, I knew he was going to be happy and free. He was going to play ball and eat as many treats as he wanted. He was going to be the early Christmas gift for my gram and George’s. The image of my gram’s loving smile was all I could picture as I gave him Reiki in his last moments.
The pain is raw, and much like the day I said goodbye to Lady. The thought of the love and happiness he took with him leave me with tears. The house is empty without him, even still full with the five of us and the two dogs. We are missing a huge part of our life. It always amazes me the amount of space one person, one dog took up energetically. While we have them, it is hard to see their true impact, but when they are gone, it is all you can see. I know he hasn’t left us. I know he will be with us, waiting by the treat bag. Today, the first day I returned home and wouldn’t see his wagging tail and happy eyes, I found a tuft of fur on the floor in the mudroom before I opened the front door. I know it was his way to let us know he hasn’t left, and bring us comfort. Because even when he was hurting, he still gave his everything to make sure we were OK. His love is endless. His heart was pure. He was one of the greatest losses of our family.
As the pain floods me, I can’t help remember the vow I took to never feel this pain again. I think about the times I pushed the love away, and then I think about what I missed out on. I am grateful he was part of my life, our life. I am grateful he taught me it was OK to love again. I am grateful that the love was worth the pain.
It’s hard to understand why creatures with such big hearts have such a short time in our lives. It’s hard to understand how people can be so cruel, and judging, and evil, where there are pets who love with all they have. It doesn’t make sense, but I am grateful for the lesson.
Until we meet again. Thank you for the love. Thank you for the lessons. Thank you for being you. As Tom Petty says, “You’ve Got A Heart So Big.”