Struggle. It's part of being human; sometimes it feels like the only part of being human- especially after midnight when the rest of the world sleeps and you feel like the last one to be wide awake. The good news? If you've ever read any grand fantasy novel you know the greater the struggle, the greater the light on the other side.
I struggle so much. I live with chronic pain and I don't just mean my body. My own brain goes rogue as often as the wind changes. And when that wind gets cold, my body protests loudly. I have days where I can't stand up straight. I have days where my brain is so loud I can't think straight. And when these beasts decide to team up? All aboard the Struggle Bus!
As you know by now, I live with CPTSD. And my particular flavor comes with unpredictable triggers, executive dysfunction, depression, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, panic attacks- it's a regular party! I can sit and write boring, pristine lists for hours, maybe even days if I decided to live off coffee. But there's no appreciation for what its like truly living in it.
It's like living with shards of glass in the pit of my stomach. I don't mean the physical stomach, I mean the stomach that drops when you get time-stopping news. Those shards of glass flash with memories or intrusive thoughts. When they are memories, it's always bad. Something I did or said. Something I didn't. Most recently it's what I didn't say. I lost my dad to suicide almost a decade ago. Actually a decade this month. And while that moment, hearing the news and going to the funeral, was terrible it is a bittersweet thing. I got to meet family, I got to meet my uncle. Visiting him and his wife was like going home. Truly home where everyone was welcome with open arms and laughter. Me in my Sophomore insecurity, well, I never felt like I had something good enough to say. Which means there was a lot of silence. I wasted three years trying to find the perfect thing to say, and in December I lost him. I'm stuck with monologues of things I never said. Right now I don't think I'll ever live to not regret the silence. When it's real memories. Well. I was a pretty stupid kid. I made a lot of mistakes, believed a lot of lies, and lived in the middle of all the drama.
Body pain is an entirely fresh can of worms. I used to be a multi-sport athlete. I didn't win any medals worth celebrating, I didn't break any records, I did love (most) of the teams. I was a cheerleader, which means stunts. One of these stunts hurt my back and I saw a chiropractor for a while. Fast forward some years (do not ask me to do the math) and I chose to have an epidural when giving birth to my sweet lil bear. I truly, deeply believe that epidural saved my life. Not because of how great the pain was, but because of the complications. I won't get into the nitty gritty, I will say I am so grateful for the medical staff that guided me through the ordeal. If any one of you are reading this right now, thank you so much. That epidural meant more back pain unlike anything I've ever felt before. Imagine being stabbed from your back all the way through the middle of your chest with a spear, but the spearhead is ungodly cold and hangs there for hours. Cold makes everything worse. The pain once got so bad I went (was forced) to a local urgent care. I was told there was nothing anyone could do unless I wanted muscle relaxers.
Here's something new. I don't care for medicine. I appreciate all the collective education and work it takes to make and distribute medicine. I am very aware medicine can be life saving in so, so many scenarios. If I can avoid taking anything, I will. I don't deny science, I'm not always a glutton for punishment. Taking medicine just makes me feel bad. Sorry, I don't have a better word. I just feel wrong when I take medicine, so when I was offered muscle relaxers I cringed. Hard. I left that urgent care feeling completely hopeless. All aboard the Struggle Bus!
I did what any not normal person in near daily pain would do. I went online. Absolutely desperate for something to manage the things I live with, body and mind. I did take a good, long look at CBD. A few times. I absolutely do not judge anyone for using any form of marijuana for any reason. I do know CBD and THC are different. I like to be in full control at all times, I don't like surprises, I really don't like what I've read about amounts of THC found in CBD. I look before I leap and chose to leap in a different direction. Herbalism.
I won't bore you with more repeated things like how I found essential oils through herbalism. I will say essential oils have changed my life. Aromatherapy changed my life. I still ride that Struggle Bus, a lot. But I don't get those tickets to climb aboard nearly as often. I will be the first to tell you anyone telling you there is a quick and fast cure for anything is lying. I am actively in therapy. I have more pain days than good days. I still live through panic attacks and intrusive thoughts. It is all so much easier because I have the right tools.
And that is how I want to turn the Struggle Bus around. Anyone that really knows me knows I have been eyeing those huge red tool chests they sell in hardware stores for a very, very long time. I fully intend on having one someday. When it comes to my physical and emotional wellness, I don't feel differently. A huge chest of tools. Just because that chest also houses a heart does not disqualify tool-holding abilities.
When my brain is screaming and those shards are sharp, I turn to Lavender. I turn to Sweet Orange. I turn to Patchouli. I practice mindfulness and deep breathing. I use my tools. When I can't stand up straight and that spearhead is hanging out of my chest, I turn to my collection of specially made blends. I keep myself warm and sip on tea. Yes, this season it's pumpkin spice tea, don' judge me! Tools are tools, even if they fit a stereotype.
This path I'm on, learning Aromatherapy. I want to help people like me. Living with things that feel too heavy, clutching a ticket to board the Struggle Bus, uncertain if they will ever find a solution they are comfortable and happy with. We all deserve peace and comfort.
You deserve peace and comfort, naturally.
Peace to you,
Willow R.
Owner, Rooted in my Strength
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