triggers

Unpacking My Trauma

I had a breakdown on Monday. I found myself riddled with crippling anxiety, brought on by the unpacking of trauma—from my childhood and past relationships.

Sorting through your baggage isn’t exactly a fun task. You’re recognizing restrictive patterns and limiting behaviors that need to be disrupted. You’re learning about why you are the way you are, why you do the things you do, why you feel like you need certain things. You might even come up on something you weren’t aware of before.

Through this unpacking, unfolding, unearthing—you’re processing a lot. Sometimes an insufferable amount all in one sitting, which often feels impossible to digest.

I get why people turn away for this process. It’s painfully hard, it’s uncomfortable, it’s unfamiliar. There’s no numbing, suppressing, blaming, or avoiding. You are forced to face the darkness, sit in the discomfort, take radical responsibility, and in a way—relive trauma.

I understandably get and relate to your struggle. I’ve experienced a tremendous amount of resistance the deeper I dive into my own healing process.

But, we must remind ourselves, in order to heal and grow past our confinement, it’s absolutely necessary. To feel is to heal. To face is to overcome.

Look at these things with curiosity, rather than trepidation and judgment. To know the pain is ephemeral. To realize light exists in these shadows. It’s a pathway to the highest expression and expansion of your being.  There is bliss, joy, and freedom past your suffering—but you must be willing to work through it.

I promise you’ll make it through and when you do, you’ll be transformed, renewed, liberated.

I believe in you and I love you.

Devi

Tears on Christmas

“𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆?” I think to myself. Anxiously waiting by my phone hoping to hear a ring...to hear his voice.

As the hours pass by, the hope dissipates and my answer is clear. He isn’t going to call me.

A harsh reality I have to accept every single year.

This holiday is terribly triggering. The absence of my father brings heartache and pain and resentment and frustration and all these unresolved questions I’ve been pondering for years now.

As I sit here on my very first Christmas in complete solitude—the loneliness is weighing heavy on me. Not necessarily because I’m isolated, but because there are no distractions to keep my head space preoccupied.

I’m alone and being alone opens up more space to think about him. I’m not just thinking about him calling, I’m thinking about everything that involves him. I’ve been crying on and off—which isn’t unusual for me—but it’s more tears than usual.

It really fucking hurts.

I share this because this holiday might be hard for you, too. I know there’s nothing I could possibly say to take the pain away, but I do want you to know you’re not alone.

I see you. I feel you. I understand how hard this day can be for you. It’s not going to feel okay, and that is okay. Your experience and your feelings are completely valid.

I love you. I’m here for you if you need me.

Devi