What You’re supposed to feel
In the Marines, the gas chamber was a new experience every time, but the first time changed my perspective for life.
Keep in mind I have an unusually small head. While shopping for sunglasses, I’m always happy to find some without Mickey Mouse or dinosaurs on them. So, needless to say, finding a gas mask that fit my XS head was literally impossible. I always felt the gas seep in from every edge. I felt the burn in my sinus cavity and it terrified me. I had no idea what I was supposed to feel, but I knew I was of no use to them if they killed me; that’s all I had to trust.
The first time I went to the gas chamber, I remember looking around with terror. I began to feel that burn and my terror compounded immediately. I began to look around at the other fifty plus women standing in that chamber and we were all full of the same terror and despair. The woman beside me began to make noises through her tears and cry uncontrollably. I was afraid for her and afraid for me. But suddenly, I realized something as I looked at our Drill Instructor. She was calm. At that moment, I understood I was feeling exactly what I was supposed to feel, terror. I took the hand of the young woman beside me and saw her tears subside. She immediately calmed. I watched her take the hand of the young woman beside her and the chain reaction began. We needed to know that was what we were supposed to feel. The gas chamber became a new space, a space for all of us to feel strength and comradery.
I relate this story to my life and my health often anymore. I know as a person thriving with PTSD, terror is not what I’m supposed to feel everyday or even often. Feeling something is. It has taken me a long time and a whole lot of effort to be able to name my feelings, and I have learned how it calms my brain to do so. It brings me order. It reminds me there’s always enough space for me as long as I gift myself with it. Space for me and what I’m supposed to feel are two things that mean something totally different to me today. My God has “space for me”, space for me to be truthful about what I feel and just grateful He’s there with me. He doesn’t expect or want me to lie about it every time and say it’s joy that I feel. Nope, if it’s terror, it’s terror, and we talk about it. Whether it’s real or imagined I just trust we can work through it and He’s with me all the way. Man, it’s a whole lot better way of life and me “fighting the good fight” is not me fighting against myself anymore. That was chaos; that was the illusion of a battle, no thank you!
With sexual trauma behind me, I find it difficult to connect with my own body and my feelings; this exercise has helped tremendously. It is my most used way to stay grounded and truthful about how I feel. I do this every morning or if I notice any anxiety rise up. I write or ask myself:
“What does my body say?” I go through every thing physically my body feels, at the moment, with absolutely no judgement.
“What does my mind say?” I brainstorm everything on my mind, big and small. It may look like a list of to-dos or a big mess; it doesn’t matter.
“What does my heart say?” I name every emotion. I don’t require an explanation from myself and sometimes I have to ask for help from God or a list of emotions, because they’re still difficult at times, to label.
“What does the Spirit say?” Usually some expression of love will come to mind; I am always impressed with my ability to have presence and just trust here.
I’m so thankful for the supports I have now & for every one of those Marine Women who taught me more life lessons than they will ever know!