It was really that simple: I wrote my friend that I needed help, she made time, and now all I had to do was to get the words out of my brain as to how I was feeling.. or not feeling?
We met up and I could feel myself wanting to avoid the very topic that brought us face to face- she knew it and went right in: how are you feeling right now? she asked. I was shook-eth and said.... GREAT YOU KNOW REALLY GREAT. Dr. A laughed, and she said, it's okay to not be okay, and that's why we're going to get to the bottom of it.
I felt hot and tingly- but also seen and scared at the same time and i wasn't quite sure why my adrenaline started to pump. I told her what I was feeling in this moment, and she said I think you're having a trauma response to being social again.
I told her over and over again that I wasn't traumatized.
She refused to accept it because part of trauma is realizing you don't have a choice over what your body feels is traumatic to you or not. Compounding trauma is repeated exposure to trauma (of many kinds) throughout my treatment has forced my brain into a survivalist mechanism that isn't sustainable.
The more I spoke about my endless surgeries, lungs collapsing, getting legislation passed so I could get IV antibiotics legally, being alone and homebound doing this alone, being scared to be alive, being scared to die, being scared to never get better again, to wake up as I did before I started treatment, or to be scared to not wake up at all.
But now, I'm free. I stay up until 4 am to get every ounce of my energy and daylight I can because I crave being alive. THIS is why I cried: I was happy, I am happy. I am alive, and I am here.