Every time I look up to the stars I am humbled by how tiny I am. Matters of healing and the nature of a harsh message seem so infinitesimally small. I love it.
To know that that expanse is there, for some reason, comforts me. With every challenge I've faced there is the understanding that it has brought me to who I am today. Even in my recovery. Even in the midst of all the trauma, not once have I ever wished to go back and fix the shit that came close to breaking me. The people that have been in and out of my life in those moments are not the same people they are today. They've fought there own battles.
I'm in no way excusing anything just saying a + b = c. Life and it's complexities and pains and joys breeds much of the same. Until someone breaks the cycle of trauma it just repeats. It's something I'm aware of everyday in my rises and falls; that oh so lovely cycle of pain.
How do I stay out of it? I hold myself accountable. I introspect constantly. I work on my spiritual life, I give my self pep talks and kick my own ass when necessary, and I always find ways to change my behavior when needed. It's tough. It's fucking tough. But I do it, for me, for my babies, and my partner.
One of the ways I do this is through writing. Writing is wonderful because you can write it all out, take out the bits that don't perpetuate what you've learned, and then you can sit on it till you're ready to unleash it and see what it does.
So why write about what's happened? Why write about painful memories? Why risk hurting the people who have been participators in my traumas? It's my story. It's how I got to be where I am today, which isn't all to shabby. Because I came across some unbelievable odds to get to this point, where I'm still taking in air and living life. Why not share the gory details? It might just save someone else. I'm not saying my life is perfect. My life is something I just want to live. I want to create magnificent things. I want to make new art no ones ever seen before. I want to collaborate with other artists, because the talent on this planet is fucking amazing.
Art, the bliss of getting lost in the details of ink work, writing what's straight from the heart, all of it. I want to try it all. So, I will.
I'm not the victim of anything. Fucked up stuff happened, but victimhood is never anything I claimed and I know this because if I had leaned on being the victim, like a crutch, my life would still suck based on my feelings about my own victimhood. It doesn't. Is it hard at times when things trigger me? Ummm, ya! But I've learned the tools necessary to sit in the discomfort, tell myself I survived, meditate, breathe, connect with my body to see where the memory is affecting me, and then make the motions to get through the day. It's not perfect every time, but the emotional upheaval is temporary, just like everything else.
If shits messed up I get help. It's something that was ingrained in me from a young age when my Grandmother got me my first therapist. She and my Grandfather always stressed talking about things if things got to tough, and I did. And I still do. Trauma Counselling, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, Meditation, Reiki (energy healing), are things I lean into when new things arise. Something I worried about when I first started tackling some seriously hard shit in trauma counseling was the pain I might reexperience. Yes, I did get a bit triggered but it was balanced with, being heard, being seen by someone that wasn't judging me at all. I got to get emotional without judgement from another, I got to release the tension and pain. It's is so damn cathartic. And I'm allowed to process it in my own time. There's no deadline to find "peace." It's just continuing to remind my body and brain that while I maybe triggered, I'm here. I'm still here in another time and place where I am safe. And I get to make something new and beautiful from those hard moments and possibly share it with others.
Getting help doesn't make you weak, it makes you brave as all hell, it makes you smart.
It makes you a warrior.
Tell your story and own it.
Love you all,
Athilea Etla Lucem
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