Trauma train

I fell into depression, in the fall of 2022; not all the way down, just a little way. I had things to catch me in my fall this time; my faith, my husband, my knowledge, of who I truly am… what I am here for.

I did not know I had fallen, like other times I visited this pit. My husband found me there. He saw the signs; he even had the map of the turns taken to arrive at that particular dark destination

It was not a complete dark night of the soul, more twilight this time.

There have been times in summer, when I have lost myself in a book. Outside on the deck after dinner, time slipping away in the pages, words becoming harder to read, taking time to recognize that light has dimmed. The sun has sunk. That is how the depression arrived this time.

I did not know I was in darkness.

Thoughts crept in from the corners, sneaking into my mind. Thoughts such as it would be okay if my life ended now. I’ve accomplished lots and helped others, as well as myself. Not thoughts of ending life by my own hand, just welcoming Death of they happened to stop by my door.

I was so tired.

Tired of fighting old battles with past foes, some no longer walking the Earth on flesh and blood legs; their ghosts revived by the telling of stories by the living tortured; old to them, but fresh, new to my ears

My heart was tired

I used my voice to ask for boundaries to be honored, for the teller to cease the telling. They did not. They said they could not, their stories must be told again and again…

To me

They could not see that their words had an invisible hold on me, tying me to the tracks, while their memories crushed me with the Trauma Train…


They were not there with me in the night when the horrors of their past played in my mind. Technicolor dreams; nightmares coming to life on the stage of my mind; me in the front row in a seat I did not choose to occupy.

I was a patron of that play for weeks

It broke me, maybe not broken, not all the way, but bent enough for my wheels to no longer roll forward sweetly in life

I trudged for a while in the twilight, no longer a candle, unable to light my own way. My spark diminished

I knew the players on the stage. Not one, but all. They share their DNA with me. It is difficult to differentiate myself from the story when the players played a part in the making of me.

I asked again for the stories to stop. They did for a while until the teller of the tales found a new venue. They cheerily invited me to their play. I cautiously took my seat, believing I was safe, watching something different, perhaps a comedy this time.

But no. The show must go on, they said. I must study and understand the players, their darkness, so that I can accept why they needed to shade my life.

Choo-choo… Here it comes again…

This time I left the station angry. Fence boards shattered and posts bent; I had unlocked the gate myself, believing I was safe.

My husband was the one who found me in the darkness. He shone his light and showed me the map. This is how you got here my love, he said.

Come with me, allow me to help you gather the tools to mend the mess. Let’s reinforce the fence and put a better lock on the gate this time.”

…Dynamite the tracks

Patricia Meier

Depression does not look the same for everyone. I am a highly functioning person who carries on most of my daily responsibilities when I am low. Those who only know me casually would not guess anything was amok.

My closest friends and of course, my husband can see the signs.

I knew I was in trouble when Halloween preparation felt like too much effort.

I am fine now; back to myself. I share this story to assure you that even the most positive people who have loads of training and coping skills can experience lows. Mine lasted four months.

I rested, journaled, slept and studied. I have firmed up my boundaries and done deep self-forgiveness; letting go of responsibility that was never truly mine in the first place

The younger version of me would not have shared this story. She had Imposter Syndrome. “How can you call yourself a healer if you still suffer?! Why would someone seek your help if you suffer bouts of depression yourself? What kind of Reiki Master are you?!?”

This wiser version of me knows that I am human, therefore I will fall at times. I will need to seek out others who can help me. There will be times I must go inward to reflect, investigate and change to heal myself.

This is what makes me good at helping others. I have been where you are and I am still here, standing strong. I regained my peace and I retained my compassion for self and others.

I hope my experience assists others in some way. I hope, if you find that you too are reading in the darkness, you reach out for help to find the light

Love Patty

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