trauma

Friends: Before Trauma and After

~ Jessi Kallison ~ Leave a comment

So, a terrible thing happened to you. If you’re like me, a man beat you up and terrified your children. If you had the strength to tell the whole world, people were probably shocked and kind. You might have had people reach out to help with specific needs or want to grab dinner.

Here’s the thing–some of the people you most want to hear from won’t call. They don’t know what to say and might have the emotional capacity of a peanut. Some of the people you haven’t seen since high school will want to check on you. But in my experience, this was not a way to tell who cares about me.

People who didn’t call did actually care and did still want to talk and send birthday presents. And they still don’t know what to say.

People who weren’t around for years and wanted to get dinner didn’t become my best friends. They didn’t want to grab dinner again. You don’t really make great impressions during those freshly post-trauma meetings. You are at your worst, but you’re interesting. And you become a golden star for debutantes who are monied do-gooders. You’re good enough to help, but not actually good enough to be friends with.

At first I was confused because I thought some of these people wanted to be my friends, but time passes, and when you’re at your lowest, weakest, most unwilling to live, those people are not the ones who are still around.

Don’t judge people by how well they react to trauma.

I lost people because of the trauma, too. The guy I was dating couldn’t take the PTSD-ridden woman I was, and I didn’t know if I would ever be better. I lost friends when I lost interest in hobbies because it turns out we were only connected by our mutual interest. People drifted away from me, but I have to say that the rate I lost people was equal to the rate I gained new friends and acquaintances.

The one beautiful thing about my attack was clarity. I gained crystalline certainty of who my friends actually are. And not all of them are people who called me after my attack or said nice things on Facebook. Your friend group likely won’t be the same as it was before, but I think it might even be better.

–Jessi

Rediscovering Yourself after Trauma

~ Jessi Kallison ~ Leave a comment

I thought I knew who I was after my attack. The same person as before, right? But something so life altering takes up all of your mental space and feels like someone just told you gravity isn’t real, or that the speed of light isn’t constant.

I get bored easily and have bounced from hobby to hobby for most of my adult life, but there were a few that kept pulling me back: caving, writing, reading, gardening, jewelry making, and baking. (In that order.)

But after my attack, I didn’t feel any thrill of anticipation about caving. I’m stubborn as hell though, so I packed my bags and went on trip after trip, searching for that elusive spark. It didn’t happen because caving is an adrenaline-filled sport. Adrenaline used to be fun, but when you constantly have adrenaline surging through your body because of its broken alarm system, extra adrenaline leads to panic attacks. And risky behavior wasn’t as appealing to me after I’d brushed against death and struggled to find my way back.

I couldn’t read or watch TV after my attack either because I couldn’t focus. Reading has been such a huge part of my life that I dug my heels in on this hobby. I kept buying books, knowing eventually I’d want them. My focus came back eventually, but for a while I didn’t know who I was with all of the things I used to love no longer bringing me joy. I wish someone had told me, “You’re a new person now after this attack. In some ways it’s like being a child. Go discover what you like now.” I beat my head against so many walls, trying to love things I used to love.

Writing stayed with me, but gardening became a higher priority. And knitting, which had previously occupied a tiny space, became a shelter for my mind when I couldn’t accomplish much but still needed to learn. My caving became hiking and backpacking.

If you’ve been attacked and can’t find the traces of your old self in the aftermath, don’t try to force it. You’re not that person anymore. But you just might be someone better, wiser, kinder. Be gentle with yourself and try things you were only peripherally interested in before. You will find new interests and bury some old ones.

It’s disconcerting relearning who you are as an adult, but it’s also beautiful and something many adults don’t experience. Trauma brings clarity and intention to how you spend your time.

Thank you for sticking with me through Domestic Violence Awareness Month. And I’d love to hear about any of the changes you experienced after a trauma, especially success stories. Let’s show people that trauma is not the end, but a beginning.

Books That Helped After My Attack

~ Jessi Kallison ~ Leave a comment

So, October is domestic violence awareness month. And I’m a survivor. I want to spend the month telling you what worked for me. Today it’s all about the books.

I had a difficult time focusing after my attack while living with PTSD. Don’t get me wrong–it took a long time for me to get well enough to read anything. But here are the books that made an impact–both fiction and nonfiction.

The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk. This was the first book I read after my attack. And I loved it. It described perfectly what was happening with my body. And the author has decades of experience treating trauma and discussed the nuances of which treatments offered what benefits. It made me feel like I was responding normally to what happened to me, when most of the people I was close to were treating me like I was crazy. It prompted me to seek trauma therapy that really helped me move forward.

Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. I am lucky. I am not only an author. I have friends pushing me to succeed in every area of my life, and I have started back on the journey to med school. (Move over, Michael Crichton and Andy Weir.) Gladwell taught me that success is not only effort. It’s opportunity. Not succeeding immediately is normal. Tenacity and shining moments of dumb luck are what creates success. It’s a book that might help you reframe your journey and pick yourself up.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed. This one was a beautifully written memoir from a broken woman who dealt with her trauma as I wanted to. She hiked the Pacific Crest Trail and was candid about the moments that get one thinking, “I’d like to walk thousands of miles in the wilderness now. Solo.” I like people who are broken, beautiful, and remade.

The Alpha and Omega series by Patricia Briggs. It might be a trigger for some. The main character, Anna, is a survivor. And Briggs did an amazing job of capturing how trauma stays with us, while also showing Anna growing. I needed this urban fantasy tale of recovery. It gave me hope that someone could love the broken. And I met a man who loves me as I am, who didn’t bat an eyelash at my noise cancelling headphones on our first date. But I had to believe it was possible first.

Karen Marie Moning’s Kingdom of Shadow and Light. This is the end of the Fever series. And I adore Moning’s treatment of traumatized characters and her let’s-be-real author notes. I cried when I read the afterword. Honestly, it did more for me than the book, and I loved the book. Moning had major health issues that she thought might have impacted her ability to write at all. And she fought despair and stubbornly continued until she was able to finish the book. I worried I’d never write again after my attack. So, I know her despair. I’ve published two books in these two years, and I have two novels in the works now and a new poetry book awaiting my editing. I cried with her, and she didn’t know it. If you write (or wrote) and think someone might have beaten your art out of you, I think you should hang on and not let go of what you love without a fight.

I hope the books help you or your friends. As Moning would say, stay to the light.