Trauma, Grief and Loss

Growing up crazy is what I believed was going on with me earlier than most, and some may say I was just lazy. In my family, old men were alcoholic and old women were crazy. Lazy meant I wasn't exercising or eating right, and I had too much time on my hands at night.

I picked those thoughts up by the time I was seven, sexual abuse starting at an even younger age, that set the stage, so that by eleven I knew for sure this was true for me, only it was happening sooner than most. Maybe I would just be toast, and not make it to old. I didn't have to convince others as I told the story of how I was early in life and about some of the strife.

My dad died on my tenth birthday then, my grandma died before him and I loved her when growing up in an alcoholic family she was there for me, don't you see, and now they were both gone, leaving my mother with five children and me the oldest. My mother wasn't a drinker then although she had her fair share of pills that I could help myself too and it made me the boldest of my siblings and I would help myself to those pills sitting on the sills.

I met my husband at 15, he was 21. We married when I was 17 and no children, not even one, as I said, I already raised children, and want no more, even though the children, I do adore. At 24, a doctor told me I could go blind, he thought that was stress with too much on my mind. He said go home and take it easy, relax, those kids need you and who will take care of them without you, my baby that was diagnosed with SIDS.

I had so many anxiety and panic attacks that I was given medication, when really I thought to myself, I probably needed to take a vacation.

After getting into recovery, a woman taught me to do 4x4 breathing, and that was so helpful, she said we have all kinds of symptoms when we aren't breathing right. We get all uptight and I can't stand the sight of me in the mirror, with a tear, running down my cheek, no smiles, or laughs, people saying, "you would be so pretty if you smiled" and I would peek to see what they meant. I was bent on getting better for my baby boy. He was one month old when he quit breathing, that boy that was not a toy.

I was needing to get myself sober and to stop taking pills, that would solve many of my ills. I started to smile and laugh at those meetings and I was even assigned to do greetings at a meeting or two, so I had to smile and at first it hurt my face and my sides but after awhile it didn't and now I tell people my face and sides have not hurt since my early thirties.

I know how to work with my anxiety, panic, depression and such and so I will question whether someone is laughing enough when they say their face and sides hurt from laughing too much. I say you are not laughing enough, and that can make it rough. I did my grief work, I took a look at historical trauma. My grandfather and father were both in boarding school and even though they knew the language, they would not speak to me or my mama. I did not know exactly how they were affected, I do know that according to my mother my dad was a weekend alcoholic and my grandfather quite drinking before she was born as he jumped out of a window to go to drink, so he was affected. I did my abuse work and needed EMDR for a couple things. I continue to have loss of loved ones as my brother just died in March from covid and that stings. I continue to grieve my youngest brother as I was old enough to be his mother.

During the pandemic, I have been using my cultures first two medicines of laughter and tears to keep me out of depression as I haven't taken medication for anxiety, panic, or depression in at least 30 years. I bought a light for SAD last winter, as I was having a few too many tears. I had been meaning to do that for years. I had to do some breathing exercises this year after my brother died I found myself getting a bit anxious. Everyone in my recovery meetings have been so supportive and gracious.

Postscript: This started out as a rhyme and got too long so I fixed it. Still rhymes quite a bit.