New chapter - new life?

Ghost Town started playing. “Nothing hurts any more, I feel kind of free” was the first line of the song. Funny, I used to listen to this song on repeat a few weeks ago, trying to calm my anxiety by imagining myself listening to it on a beach in Greece.

And here it is, the moment finally came. Sitting on a plane, destination: "new life."

But that's the thing—I don't know what I'm expecting from this trip. I don't know if it's clear enough in my mind that this journey won't actually heal me, as I kept hoping. Because a place itself cannot actually heal you. Leaving a place that no longer serves you can help you find peace more quickly.

Peace with the past and everything that has happened. Can you ever let the past go? By now, I’m pretty sure you can’t. My PTSD will always be a part of me. Everything that happened will always have a special place in my mind. Some days I can just live with it, while on other days it still scares the hell out of me—the whole package that comes with the symptoms, memories, flashbacks.

The important thing here is to let it just be a memory and nothing more. When a flashback comes to life, embrace it and don’t be scared of it. When my body reacts with dissociation, shaking, or panic attacks, I need to understand that it is only a response from the past and no longer defines my present. That is the goal, nothing more.

So what did I hope for from this trip?

To find myself again and find acceptance. The thing with trauma and PTSD, or with the healing of it, is that you no longer know who you are. Who am I without my trauma? What are my habits now, without the environment that broke my person and character? What do I like? How does my personality look like without my reactive fight-or-flight mode all the time? What will I accept from people, and where do I set boundaries? Where is that thin line between being empathic and losing yourself while trying to please others? That is the first thing I want to start discovering: who I am and what I like.

I have been living in and with a trauma bond for one-third of my life. Explanation on trauma bond you can find here: What is trauma bonding? (mytraumamypower.com)
Trauma bonding involves emotional manipulation and abusive control that erodes one's sense of self, leading to prioritizing the other person's needs and perspectives over one's own. I don’t know how to cope without ensuring that the other person is feeling good because my self-esteem (at least it used to) depended on others' perspectives on me.

I used to be isolated from everything that brought me joy, so now, when I find something that gives me a sense of happiness, I tend to overdo it. It’s hard for me to find the "in-between" in a situation, tending to swing from one extreme to another. I used to lose interest in anything I was passionate about as a response to the trauma bond. To avoid conflict, I abandoned my interests and social activities, which led to losing myself.

I wish to know who I am without having 24/7 intrusive thoughts and psychosomatic symptoms. I wish to finally learn to accept myself as I am, even on my worst days. Likewise, I wish to be able to learn to trust again.

Before I left the city I am currently living in, I fought the worst episode of anxiety so far. I wasn’t even sure until two days prior that I would embark on that plane to Greece. But I did. Looking back to May, I cannot believe how strong I was to fight so hard for myself. To get up every day even though I didn’t want to, still open my laptop, work all day, talk all day with people, and put on a bright smile even though all I wanted was to lay on the floor and cry. I was fighting and then pushing myself to take 1, 2, 5, and then more and more minutes of walking outside. I didn’t think I would be able to make it, but I did. Every time. I didn’t think I would manage to get on that plane to Romania a few weeks ago, but I did. Today, I wasn’t sure if the numbness in my legs and arms would go away, as well as the dissociation that made me lose my sight for a few seconds, but I still continued to sit in that meeting. And it did disappear.

What I am trying to say is that I am incredibly proud of myself. All I hear is, "You don’t look like someone who has mental health issues. You look so happy. You are having and living the best life. Are you still thinking about what happened to you? That was a long time ago."
Well, that was not a long time ago for the nervous system. Abusive behaviour makes our brains stay on constant alert, overanalyzing every situation, sending warnings to prevent it from happening again. The events may be from a long time ago, but the body (and brain) do not forget. SO it is normal that your symptoms don't disappear overnight.

And I am incredibly proud of you. I know there are some readers silently fighting the same battles, understanding exactly what I am trying to express but not yet ready to raise their voices. Neither am I, to be honest. I keep writing these theoretical articles without giving exact examples for the same reasons as you. But I am getting there, and so will you, once you are ready. You are not alone.

Love, 🌜