The Harrowed Heart

Tag: mental-health

  • Sometimes, it doesn’t help

    Well, I went hard while running last week; I keep pushing myself to move a bit faster, for just a little bit longer. And I was able to hit my goal and beat my best time so far. It felt really good. And it also helped me let go of control long enough to grieve for the trauma of last week. Some things just weight too heavy.

    I’ve been wondering why this event seems to linger… but I bet my therapist will tell me that trauma triggers trauma. I’ve been thinking about that, too. I knew it would bring on bad memories and trigger nightmares, thankfully only one, but it was enough to disrupt my sleep (again). I’m working on that. Sometimes, even pushing myself at the gym doesn’t help.

    In my experiences, I understand more what people are feeling when they have their worst days. I know what it’s like to be overwhelmed by questions from people who mean well but don’t understand that silence is a gift. When those two things collide, when the information meets my uncanny ability to understand more than I want, well, I’m not left with many outlets to express that. There are laws for a reason, and besides that, I want to allow people their privacy in their worst moments-knowing how invasive it feels to have everyone, and their mothers (yes, literally) know and approach you with details that should have, and legally, were required to be protected.

    I can only keep to myself what I know. And putting two-and-two together sucks sometimes. It means I have a more thorough understanding of the situation as a whole. And it’s awful.

    I have just learned, however, that healthcare professionals are allowed to speak with their mental health providers and therapists about difficult work-related events. I know there have been debriefs, counselors called in and services offered for severe cases, especially when they, the healthcare team, are shaken by a case or when they know the patient, as they did with Kevin and his accident. So that is a relief, knowing I can share with my therapist.

    I’m hoping it will help to relieve the noise.

    But Kevin and I recently celebrated our wedding anniversary, and in true Kevin fashion, I got what I love most: a letter he’d written to me. I love these, they are something tangible I can read over and over again. And he said something that really hit me this time. He was talking about the accident and how I “carried the fear so” he could survive it. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense but if you think about it, it’s still true. Stress and fear have a way of hindering physical healing.

    I’ve always been the one to manage our family, handle the difficult situations, plan for the best and worst times (even while fervently hoping those never came). And in this particular instance, it was more true than ever and to have him acknowledge that, it hit something deep in my soul. And I hope, this other family, that everyone going through their worst moments, have someone to carry that fear for them, too.

  • Another nightmare

    Well, I’ve made it past the holiday slump that I’ve been stuck in. Kevin and I went to a few games this year; a playoff and championship game (next year, Denver!) and even went to visit his father- we really need to make that a regular thing. And things have just started to calm down, feel less heavy, if you know what I mean.

    And then, well, inevitably it seems, it happens again. I have another bad night, another nightmare. I knew to expect it, I knew it was coming. I didn’t think it would happen that first night after hearing about what had happened, but I knew it would rear its ugly head in time. And it did.

    This time was slightly different though; this time the nightmare seemed to stem from fear of abandonment. Don’t get me wrong, my family and I-and by that, I mean my siblings and mother- we love and take care of one another the way that families are meant to, even if we don’t see each other as often as I would like. And I’ve never feared them leaving me.

    But recent events lead to a trauma response. I work in health care, and shit happens sometimes that no one can prepare for. And while not directly involved in emergency patient care, I can still see the weight the team that worked this particular case carries. It did not end well. And it involved a small child. That is all that I will say about that.
    My heart aches for the caregivers and the family involved. It’s never easy working a trauma-speaking strictly as someone who is the wife of someone who suffered a serious trauma-but it’s worse when it involves a kid. You could feel it in the air and see it in the eyes of those who tried to help. It was even brought up in our daily check-in, to keep that team and that family in our thoughts.

    And then I saw the email the school sent to parents, letting us know of a sudden loss. I saw the names of the family involved, people I know, who we’ve been friendly with. And it hurt more.

    Someone mentioned, “I just can’t imagine…” and seriously, I hate that phrase. I have since Kevin’s accident. Those are the worst moments of a person’s life, why would you want to imagine what it feels like? I certainly wouldn’t want anyone to have the experiences I’ve had nor would I want to think about what it would be like to live through someone’s else’s worst moments. We can sympathize, sure. But no more, do not put that thought into the universe, trust me, you don’t want to be in that position. At least, that’s what I think.

    So this nightmare, I was alone. Kicked out of my family home. Packed my car so tight with belongings stuffed in trash bags that I had no choice but to take a bus to a friend’s house. And when I texted my brother to ask him how he could let this happen and that I had nowhere to go, I only received a texted picture of me with a friend; the message was clear: we won’t help you, rely on your friend. And I found myself crying on a bus, a kind stranger asking if I was ok, and me, shaking my head no.

    That was when I woke up, the feeling of being alone still clinging to my consciousness, sobbing. I had to work through my steps to calm down alone as Kevin had already left for work. I have a new process, I actually use to help me get to sleep, too: I think about 3 things that I can hear, and three I can feel…and this morning, I added 3 things that are true. This is actually my modified version of a coping mechanism to talk people out of their panic attacks. It seemed to be pretty efficient: I calmed down quicker than I thought it would. I also wonder if I calmed down more quickly than normal because the nightmare wasn’t directly tied to my own trauma, or the emotions that brought up.

    When I heard the news, I didn’t have to wonder what that family must be going through, no, my focus was not spiraling into my own memories. That wouldn’t have helped anything anyways. Nope, I focused on trying to stay present, allow myself to feel sympathy for that family, even before I knew I knew who they were, and keep going. Because that’s all we can really do. Keep going.

    And yeah, this sucks. It’s not fair, and no one will really know why things like this happen. There’s just no rhyme or reason to life sometimes. It just happens, and sometimes it’s hard.

    It can also be really beautiful. The community has rallied around the family, it’s what we do. Our organization took care of their own, meals were provided to the EMT team, the ED team, and counseling is always an option for staff in these circumstances.
    Friends reached out to friends, we’ve all been checking in with each other a little more, and we’ve all given just a little more grace.

    Because that could have happened to any of us.

    And we can only be there when it does.

  • I don’t know what to say…

    I can’t even wrap my head around what I heard today, but I’m going to try, so here goes.

    I was told today, that when Kevin originally had his accident, there was talk, and I won’t mention who, though I wish I could throttle them both, that I had done it. And by that, I mean they thought I was responsible for Kevin’s accident, that I somehow willingly inflicted a life-threatening injury on him.

    Now, I’m all for the odd, dark joke; making them is sometimes preferable to tears and breakdowns but these people…One I don’t think much of just because of their demeanor and the other is nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

    Now, when I come across people I don’t like for one reason or another-or sometimes for no reason at all-I ask myself what it is exactly that I don’t like about them, and more importantly, is that a reflection of them, or of me? Mostly it’s me and I’ve come to the conclusion that we don’t have to like everyone, just as they don’t all have to like me. I think is just a natural occurrence and its ok as long as I remember that not liking someone does give me or anyone else license to be rude or disrespectful towards them.

    And I work hard to do that, sometimes more than I want to. But it comes to the same: they still deserve respect even if I don’t like them. That is also a natural occurrence, or it should be.

    Now, this person today, I have never liked them. Not 15 years ago when we initially met, not a few years back when I met them again, and definitely not now. I’ve tried to be more than just polite, I’ve tried to engage in conversation with them about their interests, and I just can’t anymore. My main description of them is only something I’ve shared with Kevin and my therapist; to be frank, I find nothing sincere about this person. I used to think it was just me but I’ve been proven wrong by them, on multiple occasions now.

    The first time was a few months back when they approached me about a sensitive issue while I was at work. Now, I’m not shy in my emotions and feelings, but I am selective in who I willingly share that with. There is nothing in our history to indicate that I would ever want to share a more in-depth conversation with them about that particular topic. I told them, very firmly, verging on rude, that that topic was not one they should ever approach me about again. They told me they thought the situation was different and I immediately shut that down as well, reiterating that they don’t know the situation and it is not up for discussion, ever.

    I also reported that conversation as a means to protect myself and ensure it would not happen again. I may have been more standoffish with this person since then.

    But now to learn that they had discussions about whether I intentionally hurt Kevin… I just want to yell at them, put them in their place. Remind them that they have no right to make such an implication let along discuss it like fodder to fill their worthless time.

    I don’t need to tell them how broken I felt when all this was happening; they don’t know that I can still hear my bug screaming, see my son’s tears, and watch my pancake try to shake the words, “your father could die,” from her head.

    They don’t get to know about the sleepless nights, the endless fears, or about the panic attacks I had. They don’t know I use therapy, breathing techniques, going to the gym, and writing as an outlet for any of that. They don’t know that there are still triggering moments, hard days, and nightmares that still plague me.

    They especially don’t know the relationship I have with Kevin or what we mean to each other; they don’t know how many times I shut down platitudes of, “at least you’ll appreciate him more, now,” with I already did. They don’t know the kind of love that Kevin and I share: one that is honest, raw, and worth fighting for, even to live, as Kevin did for me.

    They don’t know how deep that connection goes or that when he was under, before he was flown out; cracked open but unconscious under the protective coverings; intubated, and looking every bit the patient that he was in a hospital emergency room that look like a bomb had gone off in it, that Kevin heard me: he responded to my words to fight and stay with me. He moved his feet, and it was like hope had been brought back to life in that room. Everyone there knew it, they felt it. It was tangible.

    But this person, they don’t know that, because they don’t know me; they only know of me. Not who I am. I’m selective about that, even more now.

    I really wish I could confront this vile person, but I don’t even know that I could say anything that would convey just how callous their words were. I really have no clue how they came to the conclusion that I could ever hurt Kevin, unless they equate my ability to set boundaries gave them the thought…seems like a leap though. It almost feels like showing strength equates to being aggressive.

    But let me tell you: I had to walk through fire for that strength. And I’ll keep doing it now, and walk away from this person as well, because at the end of the day, a confrontation is not going to end well; not for me. And they’re also so not worth it.

  • Ugh…

    Sorry I’ve been absent recently; things have been going really well-been feeling strong and just trying to enjoy the little things in life.

    Got to mid-October and things just kind of slumped; we reached my grandmother’s birthday and that was hard. The first everything after the people you love pass are always hard.

    Then we were able to take the oldest and youngest to dinner for their birthdays, with their boyfriends in tow-nice young men. Kevin and like them both but the key is that our kids seem happy and are treated well, so we’re good. We had to call our son for his birthday-it was really weird with him being away at school, to spend his birthday without him. But he’s also doing well and happy-and he got see his girlfriend last weekend, so he’s good, too (and yes, we also like her.)

    But then I started having some anxiety-I hate to call them attacks-it feels weird in my head-especially when they seem quiet and under control. I kept watch but couldn’t really find a trigger-other than the time of year. I’ve been diligent about minding the things I know could set me off-no need test myself right now.

    The anxiety seemed manageable at first, I didn’t even mention the first 2-3 episodes to Kevin; just breathed through them and tried to calm my racing heart. I hate that the most-the heart racing-it feels weird when that happens and there is no activity to precipitate it. I have to watch my thoughts when these happen, too, so I don’t exacerbate the problem. Spiraling down a rabbit hole is not the best idea to do when I’m already feeling anxious.

    But over the last couple of weeks, it’s been getting worse-so much so that I spent 20 minutes yesterday trying to talk myself down, before finally giving up and hiding in Kevin’s office for 15 minutes and trying to distract myself. I had told him that I’d been struggling a little; he did what he always does-reminded me that he was here, and that he was here if I need him. And just let me hug him-which has been the best balm to my anxiety. Kevin just has a way to calm me and make me feel safe-he brings me peace.

    But after yesterday’s episode-God there has to be a better way to describe this-I decided to make an appointment with my therapist. I haven’t seen him since the end of August; I was feeling good, strong, and I wanted to enjoy it for a while. And I was doing good. But this time of year just hits me so freaking hard.

    It doesn’t matter that I try NOT to focus on the bad things that have happened; but how do you not remember the people you’ve lost at the time of year that you lost them? And then remember that I work where everyone knows about Kevin’s accident, and there have been questions about how I’m feeling now, about how Kevin’s feeling now.

    How am I supposed to answer that? “Thanks for asking… I just love discussing a potentially emotionally charged topic that is in no way painful to me?” And really, I don’t mind talking about that, how I feel, with the right people at the right time, but work is not that place. I won’t even begin to address the second question other than to say the situation is ongoing.

    There is generally more happening in a person’s life than we know, that’s why it’s important to be kind, even when things are hard.

    So…yeah…I’ve been struggling with anxiety the last few weeks; I’m angry, and sad, and frustrated because it all still hurts, and sucks, and is freaking hard. And it’s all condensed into this time-frame and I thought I was doing so good and I was and I know I was and I know this is just a blip, but really, can’t it be enough already?

  • Sometimes, it’s just a lot

    So last week, I wrote that I have been struggling to get some solid sleep in… unfortunately, I received some bad news that night, and sleep did not come easily. I’m actually still processing that news, just waiting for it to hit, because I know it will.

    On another note, I’ve been thinking a lot about the peace that I’ve worked hard to find; specifically, about the control I have to keep my peace.

    Small actions, no matter how big or small, have the power to impact someone else’s day. I think I explained this fairly eloquently to a co-worker recently, about another’s behavior. I won’t go into detail here but the co-worker I was talking to… she’s big on putting yourself in someone else’s shoes, to take a look at things from where they’re standing. I have a love/hate relationship with this mentality some days. It’s not a bad mindset to have but it can be exhausting as well. Anywho…

    I let her know my concerns and yes, frustrations with another colleague. I explained that I’ve been struggling recently-she knows my history, been with me through my dark days, and seen me progress through my therapy-so I’m not afraid to share with her but I also felt the need to remind her that while I’m doing well, there’s been a lot going on recently, and that while I’m managing my stressors and triggers, when things begin to pile on, it can be those little things that push me to that breaking point.

    So, I let her know, this one concern, a small action, really and truly usually ignorable, can still be that one thing to set me off. And not me, necessarily, but anyone else who may also be going through it themselves. You never do know what someone else is carrying: they could have lost a friend, have a family member fighting cancer, or be having an “and then” day-a day where nothing seems to go right and it just keeps piling on… you know, “I woke up late, and then my car wouldn’t start, and then I dropped my coffee everywhere, and then…” You get the idea. I think she got the point.

    I said what I needed to say and now I’m done with it. There is someone else who has noticed this other colleague’s behavior and she’s not happy about it, either, but that’s her battle. I also keep telling her to “let it go, if nothing is going to be done, then nothing will be done.” I can only hold onto my peace, even when it feels like I’m having an “and then day,” even when sometimes it’s just a lot.

  • Still working it out

    Alright…I’m still playing around with the appearance and set up of this blog. I’ve never done anything like this before, so bear with me as I try to figure it all out.

    I’m also trying to work out how often I want to post; I have more good days than bad now but that doesn’t mean I’ll only be writing when I’m struggling. I think it’s important to remember to highlight all the good moments as well.

    When I first started therapy, one of the first things I was told to do when a memory overwhelmed me was to make a list… well, box breathing might have been the first suggestion but making a list was definitely in there somewhere. And as someone who has been writing off and on since her teens as a means to alleviate stress and emotional turmoil, it seemed pretty natural.

    That list, initially, included all of Kevin’s little victories after his accident; they included physical things he was able to accomplish in the early days: walking from the bed to the chair, the chair to the doorway, down the hallway to the nurse’s station, etc. Little victories that would help me remember that he was surviving and progressing.

    I really struggled every time he wasn’t able to act physically the same way as before his accident; the instances are less overt now but I still see the signs: the way he grabs his chest where his ribs were cracked open, how he has less energy for the things he loves doing, how he still sometimes pulls away from my hugs-honestly, that one still hurts the most-because after 3 years, he still has extreme sensitivity to pressure against his sternum.

    But this list, it got longer and longer, and I kept re-reading it over and over again. It helped. Until it didn’t. It helped calming me as it reminded me of how far he had come; but it sucked to remember where he had been, simply because those memories still have the power to break me. I’m still working on it, I mentioned that, right?

    So I changed it. I realized that I needed my own list; something for me to read about myself that helped me to feel good. It was just another way for me to bring myself out of my anxiety, especially as we got closer to the first anniversary of his accident and it kicked into over-drive.

    The list is self serving but not in the way you may think; all the comments are a response to my actions toward those I help to take care of. For me, this list is a reminder that I am capable of making someone else’s day a little bit easier to get through.

    And that brings me the greatest relief; it reminds me of the people that were there to help me through the scary moments. I find peace in knowing that I can be that for someone else.

    I’ve been working towards changing that mindset that leans towards the negative. It’s not always the easiest to do: being angry is easy. Reminding yourself that’s not who you are is difficult.

    And it’s ok to struggle doing either.

  • Rough Morning

    July 24, 2025

    Met someone today who just made my day (insert sarcasm here). Our interaction was brief and the only things I discerned about this particular individual was that they seem to be very angry with an ego and huge sense of entitlement.

    Now, I deal with this kind of thing all the time and while I’m usually good about letting it go, understanding that the reason they’re in my vicinity is not always by choice but necessity, and that it can be scary, and that each person deals with stress and fear differently, the entire experience ruined a solid hour or so of my morning. I’m afraid I was not nice in their description to a friend when I asked for help and vented my frustration at their treatment of me: I believe “d-bag” was used more than once.

    And then a colleague brought me my favorite coffee cake.

    After I was able to sit with it a bit, and devour my coffee cake, I started thinking about how this person got to the point where they are angry and hateful, and not just today, but in almost every interaction they have. I spoke to other colleagues who reported similar experiences. What had they been through? What brought them in today? Are they getting help? Do they need help?

    And then I decided that I didn’t need to let this experience continue to ruin my day or bleed into what I do best.

    But more importantly, I didn’t want to let this turn me into the worse version of myself; she’s not a nice person. I didn’t want to be so consumed in anger that it would be all I would experience. I did that before and it almost ruined me.

    I was completely overwhelmed after Kevin’s accident; I was mad, angry, grieving, scared, scarred, and changed. I wasn’t the same. I was short tempered, quick to cry, and snapping at everyone. I didn’t feel like I was that person at the time, not until someone sat me down and described behavior I have zero recollection of.

    To be honest, many of the days following Keivin’s accident are lost to me; there was too much to feel and too much to do and honestly, I just don’t think I was capable of taking in or processing anything else in those days. I was just surviving going through the motions. Not really interacting but acting. In many ways.

    Acting like I was fine. Acting like I wasn’t angry, or scared, or broken. But I was and I didn’t like it. I never considered myself an overtly happy person, but I was never the angry, bitter person I had turned into.

    That’s when I got help and found a good therapist. But that was still 4 months after the accident. Four months that I can’t account for my behavior.

    I don’t want to be that angry person again, and I started feeling sorry for this person who I only know as this.

    I did change with Kevin’s accident: I’m still changing, to be honest. But this little experience today, it’s only as important as I make it.

    I have this little board for short quotes: it usually changes based on interactions I have or things I want to focus on; so today, it was changed:

    “In a world where you can be anything, be kind.”

    ~Clare Pooley

    And love yourself.