Untreated PTSD from childhood may show up when we encounter stress in later life. In my youth there was no diagnostic label of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, commonly referred to as PTSD. It was during a time of great stress as an aging adult that this memory of being caught in an undertow emerged.
As I was able to recover this episode from a young age, I related this to my current life. I realized how this undertow had held me in it’s grip. This unrecognized and unspoken incident of terror had not been validated. There had been no processing of this young girl’s terror.
In the retelling there is a validation and recognition. These aspects of our lives are extremely valuable. And with this, there was the release of old trauma.
This visual audio describes my memories of my own untreated PTSD from childhood, combined with the metaphoric repercussions later in my life.
A Reflection of Untreated PTSD From Childhood – The Undertow: Video Transcript
I wake up in the night to hear the words,
“I am fine now”.
They weren’t just words, this is deep-rooted truth that penetrates all the parts of my body with peace and healing. They roll through my body, the foot pain, the sinus, all that and then the inner turmoil.
I have been once again as one caught in that undertow on Lake Michigan entering into the waters to swim.
I wade a bit past the shallows but I swim in place where I can still put my feet on the ground if needed and then unknown and unexpected the undertow came. It dragged me away from the swimming area I trusted and knew, pulling me deeper and deeper out.
Hidden in the depths of Lake Michigan are shipwrecks that would one day be discovered but I did not know that at the time. I only knew that my small world is no more.
I am caught off guard and I do not understand what is happening.
My 12 year old body is twirled and tossed flung upside down as my head crashes on the sand floor of the ancient lake. I am then carried in this water strength.
I do not have time to become afraid it happens, so quickly and I do not even know where my breath comes from.
In my youth I assume the gentle waves, the beach and the endless horizon was all that, peaceful, good and that I would be safe if I stayed close enough to the shore and yet on that seemingly normal afternoon an undertow came in to snatch me into the depth that challenged me in desperate ways.
Now in later life, I have also been caught up in such undertow, one that dragged me to depths that I can only begin to understand as I look back, having escaped those clutches and waking up to hear my dream spoken words,
I am fine now.
When I was young I didn’t even understand what an undertow was and how it could sneak up unseen from the water surface to kidnap a child in the water at play.
I didn’t understand how to ride out such a current in waters that hid shipwrecks from recent and hundreds of years ago.
And now in the days and months that surround me during this pivotal time of my life, I understand with hindsight. And again, I instinctively relax my body knowing that fighting against this process is to no avail.
The undertow was stronger than me and to resist was useless.
I have learned in this process to take small steps or what seemed to be very small steps. This process has become a life rope for me as the forces around me would try to drown me in their depths.
I remember as a child when I finally came to the surface of the water I was gasping for breath. Looking around me I was disoriented, I did not know where I was.
It was then I realized that I was very far from the shore. The strong current had carried me out deep into the lake.
But no one missed me.
No one knew I was in danger.
No one noticed.
I am now many many years into my life. This last season has brought much change. I have had to learn to swim in new ways.
I carried upon me my mother’s extreme fear of water and swimming and yet I still have learned to swim. Her words had been hammered upon me. And now that layer is gone.
I returned to dry land with treasures, they are gifts from a treacherous episode where I have seen and gathered only what can be accumulated from venturing into places far beyond the pristine shorelines.
In this process we may become disoriented. Eventually we regain our bearings and slowly, carefully, we find our way back.
We move back to shore, to the ground that will never be the same after returning from deep waters.
I fall upon the sand and I whisper,
“I am fine now.”
Our mental health needs the same attention and care as our physical health.
Taking time to honor these parts of our beings, listening to the deep stories we hold, being able to process and connect to all the parts of our lives…this is important work.
Hopefully we not disregard what comes up in the remembering. May we listen with compassion to our own inner stories of long ago. May we learn to validate these lost stories and champion the parts of our lives that were glossed over or told to move on. Sometimes we are unable to move on until we champion the parts of ourselves that were terrified, wounded or discredited and left behind.
I honor this little girl who survived this undertow. I look at her courage. I look at how she had grown up to survive other undertows in her life and, with eyes to see, I marvel at how remembering childhood trauma has enabled her to bring back treasures from the deep.
Please, don’t let untreated PTSD from childhood define the rest of your life…
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