Yesterday, as I returned from dropping PJ at school, I realized I had overestimated the amount of gas in my gastank...not a good move on a December day in Wisconsin. Hoping I could make it to the gas station closest to home so I could get home in time to kiss Lou before he was off to work and see Zakk for a few minutes before he was off to school, I stubbornly passed not one but two (2 blasted, gd godforsaken) gas stations on the way. And, no, I did not make it home. Sputtering at an intersection not more than 1/4 mile from the gas station I hoped to reach, I realized I was going to have to coast through my green light and park it, and grab a gas can or get ahold of my very kind and very resourceful Lou to come and rescue me. (dammit, I hate having to be rescued. Thanks, Corey, and thanks, Lou.)
The significance of my running out of gas is nil; the strange thing was what happened as I ran out of gas, and in the hours afterward. As I coasted through the intersection, my truck stalled completely...and as I look up from my frantic attempt to restart the truck one more time, I see a huge mack truck barreling down on me, horn blaring and no sign of slowing down. It helped my panic to see that the falling snow had made the roads slippery...and if I didn't get that truck to start up one more time, I was going to be toast. Broadsided because of my own rushed stubbornness. PLEASE GOD, just get me off the road and to safety, PLEASE BESS (my truck is Bess), just START! Bess heard the desperation in my voice, and she begrudgingly started!! I limped as fast as I could, willing my big old beast of an Expedition out of the way of that truck, and got to the shoulder of the road, feeling the wind of the passing truck shaking my vehicle as I coasted to safety...close call. WHEWWW!! SHIT! Damn my stupidity! I actually cheered out loud, alone in my silly out-of-gas Bess. And then I burst into tears. I shook like a leaf, I got the worst headache I'd had in a long time, my vision was going black. I couldn't breathe, my heart leapt into my throat and I couldn't slow my pulse down to normal...I kept swallowing hard and trying to remind myself "you are here, you are safe, this is just a minor thing. why are you so freaked out?" I calmed down enough to call Lou, in tears, and of course, he brought me gas and a hug, and I got home just fine. Thanks hun. :)
So, Lou got enough gas in the tank for me to get up the hill and fill up the truck. I went home and tried to shake off this creeping feeling of panic that kept threatening to swallow me up...what in the world was wrong with me?? It was just a close call, no one was hurt, a minor inconvenience in an otherwise typical day, so why did I feel like I was trying to avoid a full-on panic attack? It was over with, nothing bad had come of it. I kept dismissing the feelings, getting ready to drop Lou and Zakk at work and school since my gas escapade had caused them both to miss their ride, and I was short-tempered and irritable with myself and tried not to let my emotions spill over onto my family. I did pretty well, but while we were driving, the feeling of panic completely overwhelmed me again. I burst into tears, apologized to Zakk and Lou for being so emotional, but that I couldn't shake these awful feelings that began when that truck whizzed by me on the highway. After six years, I still have moments when I'm flooded with flashbacks and panic from that car accident. I haven't been very patient with myself; this entire time I have been scolding myself. "Get over it Lisa, there are people who have survived much worse than you." "Pull it together, girlfriend, there are more important things to focus on right now." "Think of the soldiers returning from battle, or civilians who live in war zones, inner cities, poverty, all forms of trauma and abuse. You have a great life. Shame on you for being such a baby." These are the things I hear, from the not-so-friendly voice in my head, the "me" that is generally as kind and forgiving and compassionate as I can be to everyone around me, but I can not extend that same kindness to myself. I have never afforded myself the proper time to heal, the time to focus on myself and have only wanted to focus outward to the family I love so much and live for. I guess I haven't been important enough to "me" to figure out what's been happening in this head of mine, because most of the time, I'm my happy, easygoing, always coming-out-on-top self. But truly, PTSD still rears its ugly head, and always when I least expect it.
After a good cry, and explaining to my love and my oldest son that I just needed to reset my panic button and I would be fine, I WAS fine. My breathing slowed, my heart fell down from my throat and resumed its proper place, and the feeling of fear slowly left me. Just acknowledging that I needed some time to focus on what had triggered the emotions, that made all the difference. I can't make those panic feelings disappear when they come up, and the harder I try to ignore them, the more insistent they become, until I just break down and cry.
I think many more people suffer from PTSD than any statistics show, and I think so many people would benefit from counseling, meditation, or a therapy called MDR that I practiced with a psychiatrist during the first two years after my accident. All three therapies have helped me so much, even when I was in complete denial that I had ANY symptoms of PTSD. Many situations can cause PTSD, whether it's a death in the family, an accident, physical/emotional abuse, witnessing a traumatic event, gore or violence, assault...all of these things threaten our sense of personal safety, refuge, and security. Our brilliant minds try very hard to protect us from these vivid and terrible memories, and sometimes the mind is successful at doing this for years, or so we think. But it crops up unexpected, ruins a special occasion, dampens the joy of family gatherings, or just plain makes some days miserable for no apparent reason.
With all of the horrible events that have taken place in the last few years, the tsunamis, earthquakes, floods, combat and war, terrorist attacks, fires, crashes, the list goes on and on--the number of people who may be suffering from PTSD easily number in the thousands. My hope is that someone reads this blog, someone who might suffer from PTSD and not know it, or knows and loves someone who suffers from it...and I hope they are encouraged to get help. We aren't alone! That sounds like such a cliche, I hate to even use it. But there is help out there. I encourage anyone who thinks they might have PTSD to research it on the net, consider the symptoms, and know that people love you and will help you learn to feel safe and loved again. Check out these websites: (DISCLAIMER: I am not affiliated with these websites, but have read through them myself and have found many wonderful resources and stories, as well as the peace that I've found through meditation. I list these only to try and help people to start their own research, and to help others begin to find their own paths to healing.
Love and Blessings of Health and Wellness to All!! I'm continuing on my journey to wellness, and loving every step of the way!
http://reclaimingourwoundedwarriors.org/id22.html
http://www.justanswer.com/sip/PTSD?r=ppc|ms|4|Health+-+Mental|PTSD&JPRC=1&JPKD=2561358159&JPDC=b&JPAD=801947716&JPKW=ptsd%20help&JPRQ=ptsd&JPAF=txt&JPCD=20110524
http://helphealingtrauma.com/
http://www.meditation-ptsd.com/
