Frozen Moments
The sun is bright and warming my body, and I feel elated. I’m sitting on my back deck. The children are playfully teasing one another and laughing — a rare moment. It’s times like these I like to call “frozen moments,” forever frozen in my heart and thoughts. The joy of their laughter and voices fills me with joy. My husband is cooking hamburgers on the grill. The smoke blows past me, and I sip red wine from my favorite glass. This moment is perfect — all of us interacting and reminiscing. With full bellies and sleepy eyes, everyone goes inside. I am alone on the screened-in deck. I am still determining what I appreciate more, the calamity of family fun or a few moments of silence.
I see it coming in the distance — the darkness. As the dreaded storm rolls in, the sky gets darker with colossal grey clouds. The winds pick up, carrying loose napkins across the lawn. I hope this storm passes quickly.
I fade into that horrific night, the night my car hydroplaned, and I was considered dead at the scene; I was very much alive, trapped, and alone covered with hospital linen. I could not tell if my eyes were opened or closed. I did feel warm tears escaping from the corners of my eyes. I recall lying in the rain, unable to talk or move; my mind told me I was undeserving of life; I was a horrible mother, wife, and person. My life is a mess; I ruin everyone’s life. Finally, I give in and let go.
Days dragged on while I lay in the hospital bed. Even when visitors came, I was lonely. I tried talking about the trauma I felt when I was alone and left for dead. People dismiss my feelings by saying, “Be glad you are alive. Move on.” I am happy to be alive and haunted by that time too.
A single ray from the sun sneaks past the dark clouds. I smile; I made it through another storm. The clouds begin to break, and a rainbow stretches across the sky. I proudly walk inside and am greeted by my children. They appear puzzled. I hug them. I feel happy; my husband leans in to hold me and gently whispers in my ear, “welcome back.” I have frozen in time with joy again, for now.
Trauma distorts my mind and behaviors. Storms momentarily take me away from reality and toss me back into that horrific night. I am grateful for loved ones who understand and support me through the moments when PTSD overtakes me.
THE END
Rebecca Hanlon & Mojha MacDowell
2021
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a severe psychiatric disorder. A person with PTSD has difficulty recovering after experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event.
The condition may last months or years, with triggers that can bring back memories of the trauma accompanied by intense emotional and physical reactions. Some symptoms may include nightmares or unwanted memories of the trauma, avoidance, heightened responses, anxiety, or depressed mood.
If you feel you or someone you know has PTSD — reach out for help.
