These are entirely fictional phases based on a series of real experiences. I am not an expert by any means, nor do I have any psychological training—simply a person attempting to heal while tracking patterns. If you like what you read here and aren’t a subscriber, I’d love to have you as a regular reader <3
Phase 1: Live and direct from the trauma
Am I allowed to cry? Don’t cry now, it’s not the time. Can’t let them see me like this. Okay I’m going to walk away. Maybe I can yell back? No, better not to engage. Okay, maybe I can take them on, I’m bigger anyways. One punch is all it takes. No, I should walk away. Okay I’m walking away. It’s not getting better, they’re chasing me. Is it just me or are there more of them?
What now? I should ask for help.
Help! Help please, someone help. Is anyone even listening? Please for the love of God. Okay, thank you that was faster than I expected. Okay someone is here, but I still feel very alone. I’m far away, but will they find me? I forgot my wallet at the restaurant, I should go back. Okay, someone’s gonna walk with me, I’ll be really quick. I need my wallet to drive. Oh they’re still inside and there’s glass everywhere, the management isn’t able to help. They’re being attacked, too? Oh that’s not good, I’m just gonna slink past hopefully they won’t noti—ah shit no I can’t do this. Just gonna leave it, my phone does all the same stuff anyways, can’t be that important. Okay now I’m being walked back to my car. It’s quite a long walk and it’s pretty late. I’m so glad X is here with me to give me company. I don’t feel safe. I feel tired. I was so happy before. But I hardly know this kind stranger, is it okay, will they understand that I just need to have a meltdown right now? I can’t breathe and there’s stinging water coming out of my eyelids that are now smeared with makeup that I almost never wear. It smells like garbage, I’m near a dumpster, why did I choose this spot, I can’t walk. Okay, we’re going to take some deep breaths. This stranger is actually really kind and seems to be very calm. Wonder if they do this for a living.Oh we’re still crying okay. It’s okay, I don’t think X is judging me. I think they would cry, too. I think I’m ready to walk now, even though I still feel like crying, but I’m trying not to hold anything in. We’re walking and they offered to hold my hand. That’s nice. We’re almost at my car, I’m gonna drive without a license. I’m in my car. I am alone now. Can I scream? I can scream. But can I? I think so, I haven’t screamed in a long time. My voice sounds tired and foreign. I scream again. I keep screaming for the whole drive home. My ears go quiet and I’m not sure if I can hear myself. I don’t think know if the screaming is helping. I’m crying and driving and remembering that the vehicle is heavy, heavy metal. I’m just a ball of bad sad energy flying through freeways of space and nothing is okay.
Phase 2: Acknowledgment
We were blindsided. The violence came out of nowhere. The pain was so intense. The fire took everything. The tidal wave of rage was absolutely unavoidable, none of us saw it coming. They never gave us any reason to think they could do anything like this—they were a nice man, woman, performer, teacher, mentor, security guard, partner, father, mother, uncle, sibling. We can’t believe they would do something like this. How could they? That bitch. We were devastated, absolutely unbelievable. How could she speak to us that way? How could he use his strength for such evil? Only a monster could do this. A psychotic person. They aren’t safe, I’m going to tell everyone I know. This person is capable of vile, heinous behavior. They always seemed so nice, no, we never saw any signs of bruising or abuse. Work together? Not if you like being hurt. Some people just like to fight. Hurt people hurt people. It’s too late for them to change. Just can’t believe something like this could happen. Listen, I was targeted, it was only me. Yeah there were others, but they didn’t have it as bad. No clue why. No, please don’t share this story with anyone else. I don’t feel safe. Would I like to report this? To who? No, I better just keep it pushing. Gonna push it down and pretend it didn’t happen. Right after the scenes stop repeating themselves in my head. Should be good within a week. I walked away, but I should have hurt them, too. I—
Phase 3: Reliving through rage
Can’t believe I didn’t fight back. How could I just let myself be steamrolled like that? I’ve gotta give them a piece of my mind. The entitlement. I deserved to be treated this way. Meaningless, worthless. This was what I was destined for. If only I could go back to that moment and fight back. Leaving today is not an option. I will not eat, but I am thirsty so I will drink. This always happens. I know better than to go back. I will never find better. I know why it happened, it’s about me. I am the reason this all happened. I don’t think anyone else can blame themselves more than me. I’ll disappear for a little and return and everything will be better. Gotta pee but can’t move from bed. Stomach hurts but can’t eat. Haven’t brushed my teeth yet. Okay, I’ll get up and pee, I can’t hold it anymore. Stub my toe, are you fucking kidding me? Can you pay attention to your body?
Phase 4: Cry about it some more
I can’t stop crying. It’s not my fault this happened. I know that hurt people hurt people. I don’t know what to do, there’s so much hurt inside of me. The amount of hurt comes out in water. 1 gallon of water has probably poured out of my eyes in just 1 day. It’s been a week, gosh can I get over it already? More tears. More screaming. I don’t deserve this. None of us deserved it. My body feels like a Michelin man. Everywhere I turn I bump into things, but the rolls protect me a little bit. My vision is distorted with a watery sheen. I think this will be forever. I bump into things to feel something again. I am tired. Crying is exhausting. What have I done?
Phase 5: Shame, but also, acceptance
My therapist and I, we don’t have that kind of relationship. She doesn’t feel sorry for me anymore when these things happen. We know why I ended up in that situation. No, I didn’t deserve to be there, but did I ignore the red flags? 100%. Did I ignore my intuition that repeatedly told me not to go to the place where the bad things would happen? Enthusiastically, yes. Because I was busy? Or because I was too tired to stop moving? Because pacing is impossible these days. My body is a movement maker and movement machine. I propel into outer space and back to earth within minutes. My mind can take me anywhere I want or don’t want to go. How could I ask her to feel sorry for me if I didn’t even really believe that I was sorry for myself? It’s not about the other person anymore, or about what they did. It’s about stopping the rollercoaster right before the top of the biggest drop and asking to be airlifted by a gentle hot air balloon that takes me on a ride above real mountains and deserts and oceans, knowing exactly when it’s time to return me back to earth.
Phase 6: Distraction as a means of grounding
How am I doing these days? Last week, I went to the farmers market, stopped for flowers, picked up some whole milk to make a smoothie with mangoes and raspberries. Talked to a stranger on one of the many benches I sat on. They were nice! We talked about bird migration and real nutella versus imitation hazelnut butter. We agreed that the real stuff is the better stuff. I spent one whole day moving from bench to bench in different parts of my neighborhood. One bench overlooked the water. One was placed directly in front of several trees. One was randomly placed outside of a plant medicine shop, overlooking a concrete lot and masses of walking people. Not sure where they were walking to or from. Bought a container of cookies that I won’t eat and will try to give away to people who like sweets. Bought myself a big bottle of water. Ate some Caribbean food on a table with one chair outside. Smiled at a baby. Went for a hike on a different day. Almost twisted my ankle but didn’t. Climbed up a cliff that was called a scramble, felt a little deceived but it was worth it. I have some trouble feeling in my body and in my surroundings, the two sometimes are at odds with each other, but all in all, I’m improving. I can notice when I’m not in my body but in my surroundings, or the other way around. When that happens, I breathe deeply into my belly. I make swooshing sounds with my mouth. It’s hard and it doesn’t always work. Sometimes I have to shake myself to the tune of a drum or point at myself in the mirror and say, ‘HEY! Yeah, you! Who else? Love you, you silly and light filled bean.’ Have I thought about it? Yeah a little bit every single day. Haven’t had the time to think about it for a full day like I did at the beginning for days on end. But I don’t think I have to anymore. If I think about it a little bit every single day, all those little moments add up to one big moment and I think that my body would be proud of me for not ignoring it. It is proud of me. My body is proud.
"I bump into things to feel something again. I am tired. Crying is exhausting. What have I done?"