I’ve had PTSD since 1997. It all began after I witnessed the fatal accident that took the life of my father during a fast moving thunderstorm. I instantly went from being laid back, carefree and perhaps unusually protected from much of life’s trials and tribulations to panicked, highly stressed and angry about most everything. It was one of the biggest course corrections I’ve ever experienced in my life.
I was no longer the same. I felt anxiety throughout my body. I was afraid of the tall trees in our yard and thunderstorms made me incredibly nervous. I felt like I no longer knew how to fall asleep. I’d take the opportunity to unleash anger upon anyone who made a mistake, including innocent strangers, an ugly way of displacing my emotions. I spent most of my junior and senior years in college in my room, avoiding parties and missing out on forming strong, lifelong friendships. What should have been one of the most fun periods of my life was the worst time.
Years later, my PTSD symptoms would ebb and flow. Usually I felt my best during the winter. However, when springtime came around, I regarded it as “thunderstorm season” and I felt like I had to gear up for many months of storms. I’d avoid even the shortest drive to meet up with friends. It was hard not to think of my traumatic experience with every clap of thunder. Flashing emergency lights always brought me back to standing on my front porch watching the first responders attend to my dad, making their way around the massive tree limb with medical supplies in hand. Seeing large branches that had fallen from trees always made me think about details from that accident that I’d rather forget.
This is how I lived with PTSD for fourteen years. It controlled where I lived, what I would do and where I would go. It became an excuse as to why I couldn’t achieve certain goals or do certain things. At times it infused so much of my life that I allowed it to become my identity. Literally I’d think to myself, “well, I watched that tree fall on my father and that’s why I am how I am and why I do what I do.” I decided that traumatic event is what differentiated me from everyone else….not appreciating or even believing that perhaps others who had been through traumas and PTSD were able to live successful lives.
Thankfully, I’ve been symptom free since 2011.
Most people in my life, even my closest family and friends, would be surprised that I had put that much emphasis on my traumatic experience into my identity. Before my breakthrough in 2011, I had built a successful acupuncture practice. I found love and got married. My husband and I bought a home on nearly two acres in Northern New Jersey that we enjoy fixing up. I traveled and eventually enjoyed being social. Still, at times I believed my PTSD was the undercurrent to who I was.
Today that’s no longer the case. Despite having published several articles about my experiences with PTSD, despite leading an online support group called Peace with PTSD, despite publicly speaking about my PTSD numerous times and despite having written a memoir about my life with PTSD that I’ve been awaiting publication, PTSD is not my identity. After fourteen years of putting way too much emphasis on my traumatic experience and allowing it to define me, I let go of its significance and realized I am my identity.
My breakthrough happened after my last major relapse in 2011 when I was exposed to my worst trigger. Up to that point, I had been searching for ways to cure myself of PTSD, like it was something I had to fight against. I had fought against whether or not I felt brave enough to drive to work while it was storming outside. I had fought against avoiding watching fathers dance with their daughters at weddings because, in addition to it reminding me I’d never have that experience, it would make me think of my dad during his last moments. I had fought against watching a tree being sawed down because the sounds might take me back to my traumatic experience. Once my therapist suggested I stop fighting against PTSD and instead learn how to live with it, I let go of the battle and immediately learned how to relax into who I was—a wife, a family member, a friend, a volunteer, an acupuncturist….also a dreamer, a travel enthusiast, a writer, a runner and a lover of all things health related.
I’m much happier with those identities.