“It’s okay that you don’t know how to move on. Start with something easier…. Like not going back.” ~Unknown
I’m one of the 70% of people who have experienced trauma, and it can be hard to deal with. Actually, I’ve experienced more than one traumatic event, which is also common.
In fact, sometimes it feels like trauma and the symptoms have ruled my life.
The gut-churning, confused thoughts, sweating, shaking, inability to breathe and panic are horrible parts, though to me there is something worse.
The fear.
The fear that it will happen again. The fear of what it took from me and how will I continue to live.
The fear that I will never be the same again. Forever changed.
So you kind of repress it as much as you can and learn to live with the symptoms.
When trauma impacts your life permanently, the diagnosis is post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)— the continual fear of reexperiencing what you went through and the avoidance of any potential trigger.
When people know about the trauma, they often treat you differently. They see the trauma, not you. They just see what happened.
This week is a significant anniversary of workplace trauma.
I previously worked in security and was very good at my job. I was a supervisor, and my concern was for those I worked with and the people where I worked.
As the only female security person there, I made the decision to be approachable to others. Especially women. I wanted them to feel safe to ring up for a chat at any hour if they felt alone working in their office or if they wanted someone to walk with them to their car.
I used to go for a walk around the area every night, with my uniform covered. Night shifts are long and can be lonely and boring. A good walk helped me stay focused.
One night, at 3 a.m., I was walking with my uniform covered when I ran into a woman walking home. She was a little tipsy, so I walked her the last little way home. After I left her, something felt off.
Walking back, I knew I wasn’t alone. I looked around and couldn’t see anyone, but I felt them. I was being watched, and it was terrifying.
At that moment my brain registered that this was personal, not professional.
My uniform was covered, so it wasn’t an attack by someone who was angry with me relating to the job. I was a woman, and I was being hunted.
All my extensive training went out the window. The fear was paralyzing. A fear that, commonly, men don’t understand. They are rarely the prey.
I walked as fast as I could in the middle of a street with poor lighting, and I kept looking but couldn’t see anyone.
I was aware that there were four sexual deviants in the area. I’d read all the reports of assaults, rapes, and indecent exposure. Where I worked was a great ‘playground’ for disturbed people.
This person was in the shadows; I was in the center of the road. At that point, I couldn’t breathe.
I was almost at the building I was aiming for when I saw him. Right in front of me. And I saw his knife.
That moment felt like an eternity. When reality slows down and every action is like a dream.
I got inside the building, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him through the window. He was waiting for me to leave. Even if I hadn’t read the incident reports, there was no doubt about what he intended.
I tried calling the guards for help on my two-way radio, but I couldn’t speak. No words came out. I tried three times while watching him move back into the shadows.
Twice I tried to use my phone to call the office (500 meters away) to get help, but again, no words came out. Alone in a brightly lit building, I was terrified to move. I didn’t want to move into the building further. It was dark, but I didn’t want him watching me. My decision was to stand still near the entrance, where most of the cameras were.
The third time I called, my number was recognized, and all I could say was “help.” I managed to give him a building number and could hear him dispatching help.
The man who had been following me silently left in the shadows. We never found him, despite the guards hunting for him. Back at base, these men had never seen me fazed by anything. I was always the calm one, the one you call in a crisis, even the physical ones. They didn’t get it.
This man didn’t have to touch me. I knew his intent; I could see his weapon and his eyes. I had read the reports. This was personal.
It was something that my employer couldn’t understand; as aggressive men, they were never ‘prey.’ As a rule, men are stronger than women and more violent.
While some men have been prey, it is far less common. Women have to deal with these feelings and fears so much more. In this case, it was more than just the fear that got to me.
It was the shame, the humiliation, and the shock.
Shame that I was incapable of protecting myself and he was left there to hurt others. While I already felt that hit, my employer stated his disgust at my inability to act.
Humiliation, as I was always seen as the ‘strong one,’ but I felt very much the victim here. I know what being a victim feels like. I’ve been there many times, though I never dreamed that I would be there when working.
It’s been ten years, and I am still affected by this experience. It has affected my quality of life and how I live.
With any trauma, you learn to manage it. Live with it and come to terms with it in your own way. You have a choice: Will you allow the experience to leave you a victim, or will you move through it?
Recently, someone asked me, “How will you manage the anniversary?” They asked in a caring way, wanting to know that I had support during this time. But it left me in a challenging place.
In my heart, I know that it is not about repressing, hiding, pretending it didn’t happen, or pretending that I am okay when I’m not. I truly believe that to heal from something, we must stop running from it and look at it, feel it, and allow it to heal.
I also know that a bad experience can make us stronger, and that we can inspire others with how we rise above adversity.
The day after that person asked me, “How will you manage?”, my right knee went numb.
It didn’t hurt, but it did make me limp. Suddenly, I was scared.
I was thrown back into the energy of being a victim because someone was worried about how I would manage to deal with this thing that had changed my life.
I spent most of my life in that victim space, and it was a struggle to get out of it.
It is more than a mindset shift. It is breaking old beliefs, changing old habits, and being willing to see that there is something else there. It was a personal challenge for me to see that life can be more than a meager existence.
I will be forever changed by my trauma, and I may never be able to do what I used to do, but that doesn’t mean that I cannot live the best life that I can.
If one looks at the energetic issues around knee pain, it is often related to a fear of moving forward in life. A fear of stepping into your path. A fear of change. So we stay stagnant.
I am at a crossroads in my life. I am seeking a new path, while aware of my limitations.
Thrown back into the old energy, it is hard to take the next step and move forward.
The irony is that this week I was planning to go to a very special crystal garden. A place that feels like a deeper ‘home’ to my soul. Being there is always special, healing, and empowering.
Yet suddenly, I could not walk easily. Stepping into my power and letting go of the impact of trauma seemed impossible.
I had to identify that I was sabotaging myself from stepping forward. From progressing with a dream, with a desire, with a passion. I had caused myself to stall.
Can one truly cause a physical problem, based on fear?
In my world, yes.
This does come down to your beliefs, though, to me, this is how I stop myself from moving forward in life.
Now that I have learned to recognize this (which takes time and courage), when I identify it, acknowledge it, and reconnect with my heart regarding the situation, I can heal the emotional wound, which then frees the energy that causes the physical issue.
This takes practice, and I’m trained in various healing modalities, so I have a head start here, but this is how I’ve worked through things many times over the years.
When my knee went numb and it felt like I was trying to walk through cement, I knew that I needed to clear this energetic resistance that had formed in my mind.
Here’s what I did to regain feeling in my knee again, to release the victim mindset I’d slipped into.
1. I acknowledged my fears out loud. “I fear stepping into my power.” “I fear not coping.” “I fear I am stuck in trauma.” I had to verbalize these fears, then change them.
2. I wrote lines in my surrender notebook. “I no longer fear stepping into my power,” “I no longer fear that I am stuck in trauma,” and “I longer fear that I am not coping.”
3. Then I wrote positive lines: “I am easily stepping into my power,” “I am capable of managing all situations that I am in,” and “I am free from trauma and stress.”
I kept writing and saying these statements out loud until I could feel them. I wrote several pages worth, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was shifting my mindset and energy.
After a hot Epsom salt bath, which is a powerful energy-cleansing ritual, I felt better, and my knee had more feeling. I wasn’t fully where I wanted to be; however, I wasn’t dwelling on the trauma and the negative. I was back in the moment.
Now I needed to visualize and see what I wanted to happen. This is such a powerful skill to learn. I often use my phone voice recorder to create my own visualization that I can play as I sleep or throughout the day.
What was important here was that I take a step in the direction I wanted to go in.
I jumped online and purchased the tickets needed for the crystal castle I wanted to go to. I committed to moving forward.
Then I very slowly started walking on my treadmill.
Again, as I slowly walked, I was repeating out loud, “I am easily stepping into my power. I am free. I am achieving my dreams.” This wasn’t about exercise or heart rate; it was about showing myself and my body that I am moving forward in life.
I closed my eyes and visualized walking through the crystal gardens, through the bush, touching the crystals, and letting my vision move into my next life steps.
At one point, I noticed that I was walking more easily. I could feel my knee again. But I kept going, holding on to the positive, progressive feeling.
After thirty minutes of slow walking, I felt refreshed and, importantly, I felt in my flow of life again. Able to walk normally and not be caught up in the trauma anniversary.
In fact, at that point, I was determined to stop remembering this anniversary date and decided to accept it as a time in my life that gave me the opportunity to grow.
This is a challenging way to look at things, but when you are ready to look at an experience this way, it empowers you and inspires others too.
This is not saying that any trauma is justified or condoned. It is saying that I refuse to stay a victim of this experience, and if I can, I will find a way it can help me grow as a person.
About Candy Alexander
Navigating the challenges of PTSD, autism, and anxiety, Candy Alexander has found solace and strength in an unexpected ally: her aquaponics garden. This therapeutic haven not only nourishes her body with fresh produce but also soothes her soul, offering a tranquil respite from the storms of life. Through her experiences, she aspires to inspire and uplift others while sharing the boundless potential of aquaponics as a therapeutic tool. You can find her free online mini aquaponics course here.
