Broken stress reaction = suckage

Tags

Acupuncture, amber alert, Anxiety, defense mechanisms, Emergency Essence, Faulty stress reaction, impending doom, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, PTSD goodie-bag, siege, Stress, sub-conscious, WD40

The ‘on’ switch is jammed and I can’t get it to turn off.

I learnt this enhanced fight or flight reaction from my PTSD, from the night that bastard chose to pummel my face, push me around and terrorise me.

My body knows what my mind can’t compute  because it’s busy trying to shield me from the shock of what’s going on. It loudly announces: DOOM! IMPENDING AND IMMINENT DOOM! FAAAARK! DOOM!!

This message carries its evidence in my throat, heart, lungs, solar plexus and belly. It can be hard to breathe. I cough a lot and my chest feels like it’s under incredible pressure. My guts shimmer and swirl and it’s as though I’ve eaten too much fairy floss. I feel sick. I get the runs. I can’t shake the feeling that something VERY BAD is about to happen any freakin’ moment.

Except.

That moment? The one where I really was in some pretty extreme danger is over. It’s been over for years. Anyone who’s read this blog knows how much work I’ve put into making all of that past tense.

But my body still remembers what to do. How to respond. That hyper-vigilance one gets in the PTSD goodie-bag isn’t going to stop just because my conscious and logical mind is cool with everything. Damn it, my body is gonna STAY ready (just in case, okay?).

Because of this, I find myself unwittingly prepared for a siege when there aren’t even any invaders to be reckoned with. If I get stressed or anxious about something – BOOM – my body takes that as a signal to get the defense mechanisms ready. While there’s no need to pull up the drawbridge and hunker down – you just try telling that to my sub-conscious!

Although it’s not just that the ‘on’ switch is jammed. The other thing is that there’s only one speed – go for broke.

And I can’t tell you how much it sucks.

For example, several weeks ago I went for the job interview (for the job I now have). The interview went well, obviously. I had nothing to be worried about but for whatever reason, I was stressed. Possibly because I was so hopeful that I’d get the damn job, but who knows!

Anyway, on the tram on my way home I started noticing the tightness in my throat. Here we go again…

Then there was last night. If you were on Twitter while I was ranting, you’d know what I’m talking about but I seriously don’t have the energy to rehash it all here.

However, unlike my job interview-induced stress, last night’s was a doozy. A genuinely stressful experience with a fall-out zone across multiple areas of my life. Let’s just say it has to do with yoga, although not yoga teaching.

Yoga is one of the main stabilising forces in my life so for something to go askew there, it’s big.

Couldn’t sleep last night as a result and then all of today I’ve been doing whatever I can to calm my inner sentries and get them to stand down from active duty. Because when it’s all guns blazing my body really, really hurts.

The kicker is, while I know I’m okay, my body insists on it’s own version of events because it refuses to be caught unawares this time ’round.

So consequently all of today I’ve felt like shit. Even doing some front-end coding (which I usually find very calming) didn’t really help. Neither did all of the Emergency Essence I sucked back. Eating some fresh fruit, drinking plenty of water and having a giggle at some YouTube videos was good. So was my acupuncture appointment (which I’d rescheduled from last week – talk about great timing!).

Although I’m doing better now, I’m not 100% okay. My body hasn’t calmed down completely – let’s just say it’s currently on amber alert. Hopefully by tomorrow morning when I’m still alive and unharmed, my inner sergeant will call “at ease” to the troops.

This is very difficult to explain if you haven’t experienced this for yourself – hence the description of the jammed ‘on’ switch. That’s kind of what it’s like. I’ve sprayed on some WD40 and I’m working that switch back and forth. It’s starting to budge a little but it won’t move back into the ‘off’ position entirely. Not just yet.

So I’ll just keep on working it with whatever tools seem to make sense, and it’ll get there in the end. Damn you, faulty stress reaction!

~Svasti

(Note to self: Must get faulty stress reaction serviced. This is something for Kerry and I to explore at our next appointment!)

After-burn

Tags

Accident, disassociation, Emergency Essence, fury that looks like fear, passenger dominos, physiological traces, Post-traumatic stress, PTSD, Satay Chicken Dinner Box, Trams, trauma response

So I’m riding the number 64 tram home from work, just like I do any other day when I’m not cycle-commuting. It’s the end of the week and okay, it hasn’t been the best day ever, but it’s cool… and now it’s time to go home.

I’ve been on the tram for no more than five minutes when it starts breaking quite jerkily. There’s not much to grab hold of coz the tram is packed – every seat taken and those of us standing are just a few degrees off feeling like sardines. Skin touching if you move a smidge to the left or right.

Within microseconds I’m flying, almost horizontally really. So is every other standing passenger. The tram driver it seems, failed to notice a red light and at the last possible moment slammed on the brakes. The resulting game of passenger dominos roughly throws us all a couple of meters forwards.

Nothing I attempt to hold onto works out. A multitude of thoughts race by… oh no… what’s happening… I can’t stop myself from falling… is this going to hurt… there are people falling on top of me… there’s nothing to grab hold of… oh no…

It is only when the tram stops lurching that we mid-flight passengers land ungracefully and mostly on top of each other. My phone, which had been in my hand, is now on the floor and in pieces. Luckily not too many pieces and it can be put back together. When I manage to stand upright, I’m in a completely different section of the tram.

The haze of shock sets in.

The driver does not apologise. Does not check to see if anyone is okay. The tram keeps moving but much more carefully now.

I am not okay. I’m not sure if anyone else is hurt, but I’m too dazed and angry to find out. My already manky shoulder (luckily I have a physio appointment next Tuesday) is throbbing. My neck and lower back are sore.

I’m asked if I’m okay by a woman and her family. Passengers with seats, lucky things. The woman standing next to me and I are both having separate conversations about what just happened – she, on her phone (she’d helped collect the pieces of mine), and I with the family. The woman says that from her window seat she saw the red light, and how he didn’t even try to break until the last moment. It’s not as though a red light happens without warning.

Indeed.

They get off the tram a couple more stops down and I gratefully take one of their seats. I know I’m going to report this and ah… I can see the tram number, an individual identifier. I check the time… yeah, it happened just after 6pm. Along with the route number that should be enough information for the complaint I’m going to make.

Everything feels a little surreal. I make it to my stop and walk home unevenly. I feel the strain in my body – that always happens in a fall because our muscles futilely brace for impact.

It’s done. I’ve called Yarra Trams and explained very calmly. Yes please, I’d like someone to call me back and tell me what happened as a result of my complaint. No, I’m not sure if I’ll need medical treatment for the pain in my body, I’ll let you know. Okay, thanks for the reference number, I’ll write it down.

Done. And yet not.

Seems that trauma leaves physiological traces not just in the brain but also in the body. Oh…

I remember a little now. Yeah, this is what it was like. I can never remember properly afterwards, the same way you can’t quite recall how painful it was when you broke your arm. You know it wasn’t good, but the details escape you.

Until something happens to open the floodgates. I’m teary. But I don’t realise this, until I’ve been sitting in the dark for about three hours. Tears yes… and fury that looks like fear. I haven’t eaten. I haven’t done anything. Oh right, that disassociation thing… I stop feeling normal at all.

But I am okay. I know that. I know I didn’t die, I didn’t hit my head. I am not seriously injured, but it was close. Another half a meter and I might’ve hit my head on something upright and made of metal. But I am safe now.

And yet I start to hate everything. My body leads the revolt with memories of how it used to respond. Ah… the after-burn of PTSD thanks very much.

Mostly, my mind is not engaged at all in what’s going on. There’s so many reactions and responses going on. Things that make me wary of loud noises. Things that make me move very slowly. Things that keep the tears coming even though there’s nothing to cry about, really.

But it doesn’t stop. I take some homeopathic Emergency Essence (designed for treating shock). Actually I take several times the dose. And I head out on my bike to double check that the world isn’t still trying to kill me.

It’s late, but I find food and I wander around in an attempt to recalibrate my mind. But even once I’m back home eating my Satay Chicken Dinner Box, I’m not okay. See, these things always take time. More Emergency Essence before bed.

Sleep was fragmented and awful at best. And today I am all aches and pains with a side dish of trembling like a leaf.

It shouldn’t be that hard. Yes, the tram driver was a dickhead and I’ve done all I can in that regard. And I am okay, really.

And it’s been almost a year since the worst of my PTSD symptoms vamoosed. Yet a small and relatively harmless incident like this breathes life into the trace elements of my trauma response.

Luckily, I live with a yoga teacher and I hear she’s kinda okay at sorting out physical aches and pains. I’ll find some time for all of that later. Right now I have to go and do family stuff for my sister’s birthday. I’m bringing the cake. And there will be niece cuddles.

And I will be okay eventually…

~Svasti