Happiness Found

*Warning - may be triggering to those with PTSD*

When I passed my driver's test at the age of sixteen, in a 5 - speed stick shift car, I fell in love with driving. Driving gave me a sense of happiness, of freedom, of adventure.  As long as I was on my way to somewhere, regardless of the weather, I was always happiest behind the wheel of a car.

Then, in August of 2014 all that changed. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was stopped at a traffic light at the tail-end of rush hour traffic when I was suddenly looking at someone who had a gun pointed at me, who then turned and fired into the car in front of me, shooting the occupants within.

In that moment, my life changed in so many ways; one of which was how I felt about driving. For the first three years after the shooting, driving was terrifying. I went from being happy behind the wheel of a car to suddenly seeing everything and everyone as a threat. Stop signs, red lights, construction zones, pedestrians and most especially jaywalkers invoked a level of sheer panic like nothing I could adequately explain. While my rational mind would tell me I was being ridiculous, my emotions were uncontrollable and my panic was overwhelming. The happiness driving had always given me was gone and I felt devastated that driving had become a terror instead of a joy.

It's been just over five years now since that event. Five.Long.Years.

Last year, things shifted slightly. I found I could drive without that overwhelming sense of panic. There were still times when bumper to bumper traffic or pedestrians had me panicking, but for the most part, I was OK. The happiness was still gone but at least so was the terror, so in my mind it was a "win" for me. If the joy of driving didn't return, at least the terror was gone. I could live with it being this way for the rest of my life.

Then last week something happened that was completely unexpected. On Friday afternoon, I went to meet a friend for coffee half way across the city. I got into my car and headed out to meet her, knowing traffic would already be "weekend busy', slow and congested, but I went anyway. I had been driving for about 10 minutes before I noticed, before I felt it; it had been so long....I was happy! Truly happy to be driving. The realization shocked me as I had resigned myself to a life without this happiness returning; yet, here it was. Strangely, it felt different. More intense, a deeper more appreciative feeling of happiness. I was amazed and overjoyed. For the first time in five years, I felt like the "me" I had lost that day in August of 2014.

What I know is this: trauma changes the very core of us. We are no longer the person we used to be. While we can mourn the loss of "the life we used to have", we must also create a new life from the point of trauma forward. There's no going back; you can only go forward. However, you get to choose what your life is going to look and feel like as you go forward. It may take time, it may not be easy, however, it is entirely possible to once again find happiness, love, laughter and what ever you had lost through your trauma. It will be different. However, different can mean it will be so much better than before. You just have to find your way and be willing to appreciate it when it finally arrives.

Blessings,

Bren

A New Chapter

A funny thing happened half way through July; I realized I was happy.  Really happy; for the first time in five years. It must have happened gradually, so gradually that I didn't even notice it happening. It is a somewhat unfamiliar feeling since I haven't felt this way since August of 2014.

You see, in August 2014, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something horrific which changed my life drastically. I sought help, I got help. Every time I started to feel better, I ended up in court to testify which dragged me back down to where I was at the beginning. I ended up testifying four times in four years, 2014-2018. It felt like I was drowning; that I would never surface from this traumatic event; that it was never going to end.

Five years. Five years of nightmares, insomnia, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, over analyzing, apologizing, exhaustion and a host of other symptoms. Anyone who has had one (or many) of these symptoms knows and understands the struggle. Every single day is a fight to get even the simplest things done. Its easy to lose hope, to feel things are never going to get better; life is never going to return to the way it was before the trauma.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I felt I was robbed of my life. All the things I loved to do had become difficult, if not impossible for me. I was a shell of my former self and while I was struggling to come to terms with it, my bigger struggle was with the negative thoughts I had about how I was failing those who loved me.

The people in my life who loved me, who were always supportive, didn't know what to do to help me even though they wanted so desperately to help. They struggled to understand what I was going through, yet without any kind of frame of reference, they just couldn't grasp how deeply I was sinking.  They  feared saying the wrong thing which left them with little to say. I understood this because I couldn't tell them or even begin to explain what was going on in my head, heart or soul. There were no words.

I continued to "work on me" a lot.  Late in 2018, I realized I was beginning to have "good days"; sometimes two or three days in a week.  For the first time in years, I had a glimmer of hope and at the same time I feared the thought of: "what if it doesn't last?"

When you've been in this kind of darkness for years, it becomes familiar and you might find you resign yourself to it. When a glimmer of hope appears, you want to grab it like a lifeline. Problem is, you've become accustomed to the hopelessness and grabbing onto hope and then having it taken away is even more soul crushing so it takes a huge leap of faith to grab it and not let go.

So I held onto the hope that there would be more good days. I was afraid to say it out loud, yet I became more consciously aware of the good days beginning to outnumber the bad and I stopped beating myself up about the bad days.

The first half of 2019 had some major ups and downs, yet I seemed to find I was able to cope; maybe not well, but well enough to get through things without having a meltdown.

In mid-July, I found myself laughing, really laughing for the first time since that fateful day in 2014.  When I heard myself truly laugh, it dawned on me that I was actually happy.  Not just momentarily happy, but happy without that edge of worry/anxiety.  It felt like my life was finally my own again and there are not enough words to express what that feels like after feeling like a prisoner for so long.

My life hasn't returned to what it used to be; there is no going back. The traumatic event has forever changed me at the very deepest level of my soul. However, from the ashes of that old life and a walk through hell, I have managed to create a new life which holds the potential for me to continue to build a life of hope, happiness, love, success and health.

I have experienced a lot and I have learned a lot in the process.  My goal now is to help others who are walking through their own hell (whatever that might be) and to guide them through to their new life so they can live fully and happily.  It is possible, I've been there...I've done it.

Blessings,

Bren