The Healing Power of New Beginnings

A Living Your Best Life / Fiddlehead Life feature post

Today I am grateful for new beginnings.

Yes, even the ones that are traumatic and painful. Because sometimes, life turns you right on your head. Suddenly nothing makes sense, everything is barreling in a new direction, and it seems everything in your life is totally out of control. Have you ever had a change like this in your life?

Suddenly he wants a divorce?
A loved one passes away?
You get fired from your job and suddenly have no idea what you’re going to do?

(Insert your trauma HERE.)

Life is a series of decisions and the results of those decisions. But what happens when it is totally out of your control and everything is turned upside down?

You’re traumatized. Maybe a little angry. Okay, maybe a whole lot angry. But being the dedicated optimist that I am, as I sit here in the midst of my trauma, I have to look for the silver lining or I think my head might actually explode.

Trauma happens to you. It happens to your mind. It happens to your body. And it happens to your life. If you struggle to control the trauma or force it away, you can often find yourself in a losing battle. After all, it wouldn’t be trauma if we had much of a say so in the matter, would it? So you dig in, you dig deep, you find your strength, and then you set out to find a purpose for this new direction in your life.

I suggest that you not only tie a knot in the end of your rope and hang on but that you grab onto that rope and swing out over that canyon like a child swinging out over the creek. Shout like a lunatic and laugh through tears. Release, release, release.

You have to find joy in your trauma as ridiculous as that sounds. You have find that one thing in your new beginning that you can cling to and call hope.

In the midst of my trauma right now, the biggest thing I can cling to is the excitement over living on my own for the first time. I’m 46 years old. I went from a family of seven in tight quarters to living with a new husband at the age of 18. I got divorced and remarried within a year. I raised my two sons and 10 years ago met up with my boyfriend and his five-year-old daughter and we have lived as a family since.

Until two weeks ago. My relationship over, I have to figure out what the hell to do with my life right now. We had all of these plans and ideas of what our future looked like together. All, gone. In a matter of about 30 hours, it all came crashing down and I found myself leaving with what would fit in my mother’s car. I left my cat and my dog behind. The air suddenly felt foreign to my lungs.

So, I have never lived alone. In my life. And I have always wanted to. This time, though it is a bit unexpected, I cling to that little bit of excitement to help me get through the unbearable pain and sadness that my body is experiencing right now. I cling to the vision of getting my own place. One that lets me retrieve my dog and my cat, and start over.

I envision wiping down the counters in the evenings after eating a meal in front of some TV show that I wanted to watch. I envision playing music when I want. I envision working in the peace and quiet of my own home. I envision decorating the place to my own liking without a care in the world is to what everyone else thinks about it.

I envision coming and going from my home with freedom, and without having to explain myself or my actions to anyone.

These are things I have never experienced before, so I am holding onto that vision to get me through these difficult times for my heart.

I’m not going to lie, it’s been extremely painful. Some of the time the tears overtook me so hard, I couldn’t breathe. I find myself walking outside in the dark at 3 am. I am forgetting what day or time it is.

Trauma can turn your life inside out and it can be horrifically painful. I’m not saying to pretend you’re not in pain. That would be counterproductive and unhealthy. Honor your pain. Admit it’s there. You have to STEP UP your self-care, listen to your body, and slowly work your way through the pain to find a place of peace.

And while you’re doing that–get on your rope swing and take a few chances looking for some joy with in yourself. It may take you a while to find it, but I guarantee you, it’s there.

With a new beginning comes new possibilities. It’s up to you to decide what those possibilities are and dig deep for the bravery it takes to pursue them.

Don’t let anyone call you selfish. You know the pain that you are in and you know what you’ve been through and you know that you are processing that pain in this moment. And don’t be afraid to call this a new beginning. New beginnings can be painful, yes. But they can also be immensely transformative in your life. Those pivotal moments happen so few times in our lives, that if you were to see those pivotal moments as an opportunity not to be missed, you can take back some of that control you have been missing.

That’s all for now. I hope you all are well and I hope you are taking care of yourselves and listening to your own inner voice that tells you what you need. Honor yourself and don’t be afraid to go after the life that you want!

Until next time,
Christina

The Mourn

a poem about the emotional trauma of hysterectomy

grayscale photo of woman right hand on glass

https://unsplash.com/photos/nwWUBsW6ud4



in time, eggs drop
as they may
a crimson furnace burns
waits for them
then rejects even
the idea of babies

babies that refuse to be bound
and tear their way out
leaving you
to your stitches

these eggs, they stay now…
where are they to go?
a furnace burnt out
removed scoop by scoop
fleshy tumors in a pan

I am not ashamed that
I screamed at God.

who would now mourn
these tiny keepers of
life? I must say I,
and I alone.

no more fat and bald
purple-plump and wet
wan cries erupting
gurgle and shriek
announce,
I am alive
I am alive

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Domestic Abuse on a Good Friday

20 Years ago today was the worst day of my life

https://www.pexels.com/photo/adult-black-and-white-body-dark-271418/

Twenty years ago today was the worst day of my life.

Three days later as I stood in church with my children I remember very clearly a few things:

  • My throat was damaged from being choked and I could not sing the hymns. I could barely speak in a hoarse voice.
  • My children, two small boys, were wearing their suits; I do not remember who got their suits out of the closet, ironed them, or got them dressed.
  • My hair was very short; I always cut my hair when I got upset or had been abused to the point of hating myself and wanting to punish myself.
  • Strange things were happening; people appeared in front of me and it surprised or frightened me. I suddenly would realize where I was without knowing I was there. Blocks of time seemed to be missing. I learned later at the hospital that I had a concussion. When the kind doctor tried to feel my neck I completely freaked out and had to be sedated.

The events of the abuse that night before Good Friday are so fresh in my mind that I could recount them to you in great detail even now, 20 years later. 20 years ago today I went to work in a dazed, traumatized stupor and took my lunch break to drive to the courthouse to get a 50-B restraining order against my husband (now ex-husband.)

“I need to have my husband removed from my home and get a restraining order. (insert details of attack here.)” said a devastated and nearly destroyed me.

“But where will he live?” the lady asked me.

–things you should NEVER say to an abuse victim.

I have been diagnosed with PTSD.

The diagnosis came 18 years later.

Enough about the worst day of my life, the details of which I carry inside my gut like shards of glass…I want to share with you the poem I wrote about that day in church 20 years ago, with my two boys, both also traumatized, standing next to me. I have sometimes used poetry as a healing force in my life and this was perhaps the most important poem I have ever written. I very rarely share it. But with Easter Day looming, my memories get the better of me and I find myself wrestling with the inner turmoil all over again, no matter how much distance is put between me and that day. Here is the poem:

Three Days After

Three days ago
I heard you screaming.

I crawled through darkness
to find you.

Today I heard you
singing hymns that save
and lift me off the floor.

I don’t have to crawl anymore.

I stand
in the rising of
my Savior.

Lift your eyes my son,
flowers grow from crosses
everyday.

We don’t have to cry anymore.

If you or anyone you know is suffering from Domestic Violence, help is available to you. There IS HOPE. https://www.thehotline.org/


Sorrow, A Poem of Mystery that will leave you wanting more…

Sorrow

Skipping stone bouncing across your surface
A tearing pain no one can see
You scream out toward the distance
Stretching out from between your knees

Why can’t anyone hear the baby crying?
Standing red-faced, hands over rail
Knuckles gone white from gripping
One long, steep unending wail

She wasn’t there the night before
Out tramping through the woods alone
She can’t hear the baby anymore
Out searching for stepping stones.

One last argument bent her backwards
One last tearing apart of her nails
One last long sorrow will be hers
When the baby falls over the rail.

I hope you have enjoyed this, my newest poem “Sorrow,” which I wrote while the bath water was running…because sometimes, you just have to POEM. 🙂 Weird too, because I rarely rhyme in my poetry. Well, the poem tells me, I don’t tell it how to be. One thing I love about writing is that I never know where it is leading me. I am along for the journey and I love that.

If you enjoyed this….you may also like:
https://fiddleheadsnfloss.com/2019/02/15/gone-a-poem/
https://fiddleheadsnfloss.com/2019/02/22/desperately-seeking-oblivion/
https://fiddleheadsnfloss.com/2019/02/13/dust/


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