Support

I know that in my journey towards recovery, I have been lucky. Lucky because when I first was in this situation, I was never alone.

A blog about illness can quickly become gloomy. Hopefully I can also tell you some of the positive things and experiences that has followed my diagnosis. This is one of those things.

Most research into PTSD says that a good support system is the most important factor in recovery. This makes me hopeful, because I‘ve never been alone in my fight for a better life.

Even at the very beginning, where I didn’t even know what PTSD was, when I tried my best to keep my emotions away, I always had friends and family members who asked me how I was, told me they were here for me, and asked what they could do to help. Of course, I didn’t want any help back then, but the offer was still there.

For the last 4 years I’ve chosen to be very open about my illness, and even though I meet quite some negativity, the response have mainly been positive. My boss and colleagues ask me how they can make my work day as good as possible. A wonderful human named Jone has come into my life, giving me support and love both on the good and the bad days. My friends and family have tried to educate themselves, learning about PTSD, anxiety and depression. They check up on me regularly, and still show support.

So even though I sometimes feel lonely, I know that is the illness trying to break me, because I am never alone.

As my symptoms began to get worse in the autumn of 2012, and then when I finally accepted that I needed to connect with my body again, I found through friends the most amazing therapist, who had specialised in trauma therapy, and I know now that she has saved my life. For years she has been by my side, and I know that when I struggle, she is there to help me tidy the mess that sometimes is my thoughts.

Through my psychologist I also found a physical therapist who taught me the language of a stressed body. Pain in my feet? That is my body telling me it’s ready to run. It means I need grounding. My body needs to learn that I don’t need to run away anymore. Lumbar pain? I’m holding my breath, not letting my breath down to my belly. I’m still trying to control my emotions, and turning my belly off.

I could be better at saying thank you for the support that I get. But I do hope the people in my life know how much of a difference they make. Every bumpy road becomes easier to walk, when I have a hand to hold while walking. Thank you!