Survivors

There is this Disney like image surrounding the idea of a survivor. That either literally or metaphorically the individual is standing tall, strong, and calm in their success. Their clothing may be torn, they may seem tired but there is a peaceful aura of resolution around them. Usually a dramatic light wind pulling gently at their clothing or hair as they stare into the future with confidence. 

That is bullshit.

You just won the trauma lottery! Celebrate!

Bullshit, that cheapens the effort of true survivors as well as mindscrews any future ‘survivors’.

The reality of being a survivor is darker and a much longer recovery time than the Disney version would have you believe. Being a survivor often means being huddled, beaten mostly broken, trying to figure out how you tripped, fell, screamed and cried your way past the trauma. Disbelief, anger, guilt, pain and fear swirl around you. You doubt your sanity. You doubt your ability to move forward again, to function again as a human being. And for a time you lay defenseless and prone to the doubt. Your mind, your self-identity disappears.. Literally, it leaves you for a time.

The world becomes dim, and still and silent.

It is this moment that decides if you will be a survivor. You have two choices. Give up and die, be it a slow death or a quick one. Or slowly drag your battered mind in close and hold tight. This part hurts. It burns. The terror of moving beyond the stillness seems a threat but you know staying there is death. Juttering with the quakes of fear and exhaustion you slowly begin to move again. You mentally evaluate what is next. You take stock of your body and the damage wrought it. You listen as your heart begs for no more and your nerves shock you with terror. The shambling gait of forward movement becomes smoother, you gain ground. You push. You pretend. You begin to rebuild.

Then the shadows come. 

These will be your worst enemies. The monsters in your life that brought you to this place, be it another human, war, addiction, hate… they will fade into the background. Your world will become filled with shadows of the trauma. Words, scents, people, these will all become the unwitting bearers of anxiety. Nightmares will haunt you in the truest sense of the word. You will flail a little as you work to define your own space. You will flinch from shadows and find the words to describe them empty and ineffective. You will always fear the moment the shadow appears attached to the original monster. You will struggle. You will cry. You will doubt. 

Then one day, one of the shadows will become familiar, then another. An old friend. You will jump less at their arrival. You will gain a sick form of comfort in their presence because they remind you how far you have come. The nightmares will linger as they often do, but in time, even the nightmares become like old friends. War buddies you don’t associate with good times but love all the more. Words will still fail you and probably always will. Until you find someone else who has seen that dim, still and silent world and understands. You will see it in their eyes, a stillness that comes of this.

In this moment, you won’t stand looking to the horizon for your future. This is a falsity. You have survived the worst of life and know that it is indefinable in its paths. You understand now that your future is within you. You will stand shoulder to shoulder with your shadows. Your nightmares tucked in a pocket. You will shift your feet feeling the weight of your experiences pressing into the soles of your feet. You will shrug your shoulders feeling the burdens of fear and doubt clinging there. You will lift your face to the sunlight for the joy of it. Breathe deeply just to feel the air slide in and out of your lungs. You will spread your fingers wide and feel the silk of the air whisper against your skin. The awareness of these being sweeter for the separation you suffered of them. You will move on into your life and live it with a depth and value that only people who have faced the dark in life can.  

This is surviving. Not some Disney postcard of a moment of success. It is a bloody, dark and terrible battle often waged within. It’s years of sleepless nights, moments of hopelessness. It is occasionally losing ground but somehow you still keep moving. It’s moving beyond all of these dark and terrible things and choosing to take that one shambling step forward then not stopping. 

If you are on the journey then take comfort that it does get better. You get stronger. The shadows become familiar. Life eventually will become sweeter because of the darkness you now are feeling.

 If you are a survivor then hold your chin up high and understand that you fought. You struggled. You doubted and feared and cried. You faced the worst in life and are still here. 

Battered, bruised, but here. 

This is Surviving. 

Be proud.