Lots of lessons were learned the hard way on Monday this week. Or, if not learned anew, certainly refreshed.

Lesson #1: I can do hard things, but, I don’t always have to.

Lesson #2: I am allowed to assert what my needs are, and I am allowed to leave in order to meet my own needs (although what that ends up looking like will vary depending upon the situation).

Lesson #3: I should always listen to my body, and trust it.

In August of 2022, I went back to what I call the belly of the beast, the town where I spent over a decade of my life getting traumatized and abused. I went there with my husband to attend the wedding of some friends of ours. It was hard as hell, but I survived it pretty well; you can read about it in this blog post here.

I never thought that I’d end up making that trip again a mere four months later, but, we had a school field trip that I helped to staff. For a few different reasons, I felt rather obligated to do this. It didn’t occur to me until it was too late that I could have taken a personal day and avoided it entirely (the second bit of lesson number 1). Once that option crossed my consciousness, it seemed very much like the obvious thing to have done. But by that point, I had decided that with the trip in August, I’d managed it alright with my husband at my side; this time, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it alone.

Spoiler alert, readers: I could not do it alone. Or at least, I should not do it alone.

One thing I did have the foresight to get approval for, thank G-d, was to drive myself in my own vehicle instead of riding on the big bus with the rest of the school (the first part of lesson #2). I wanted to have a hypothetical safety hatch where if I really did lose it, I had the ability to leave on my own. I also wanted a place to panic away from prying eyes, if indeed I ended up panicking.

I panicked, alright. In the six hours or so that the trip encompassed, I had three separate panic attacks. The first one hit me right when I was getting off the highway exit. With almost no discernible warning, I promptly burst into tears. Again, at least I had the privacy of my own car for that. The second, I felt coming on while we teachers had less to actively do at about midday during a whole group program run by others; I could feel my heart rate increasing, feel my breathing start to hitch (lesson #3). I told a colleague I had to step away, and went as quickly as I could to find a spot in the place to ride it out by myself (the second part of lesson #2). The third one hit me on the drive home.

To be clear – this field trip was in a place I’d never been before, a town or two removed from where I actually used to live, with no one I’d ever met before. Nevertheless, the closer I got to the area, the more I could feel my body recognizing that something wasn’t okay. By the time I’d arrived at the field trip location, every muscle was aching with the memory of stress and trauma. I could tamp down the pain as long as I was distracted enough with supporting students, but the moment there was a lull in activity, my body was flooded with it. Hours later, even days later now, I was and am still feeling physical after-effects. My body was reliving my trauma entirely, regardless of whether my conscious mind was also flashing back. Of course, my conscious mind was hardly immune, but, being as excellent a compartmentalizer as I am, it was my body that remembered first.

It’s taken me a few days to get through writing this blog post, not because I’ve needed to process things and decompress, but because I haven’t done that yet. Life doesn’t stop for PTSD unfortunately, or at least mine doesn’t; it’s been an extremely busy week for me, with a number of stresses that have only compounded the strain from Monday. I’ve managed to schedule an appointment with my therapist for early next week, so, I promise I’m not ignoring my needs! I will work through it all more effectively soon.

In the meantime, having to stem the flow of a panic attack in the middle of a plant nursery (and two while driving) seems like as good a prompt as any for me to share some grounding techniques. That’s what we call the variety of different strategies that can help reorient a person dealing with a panic attack or flashback. It calms someone enough to bring their focus back to their present reality and surroundings. Now, not everything works for every single person, as we are not all the same and neither is our trauma, but here are a couple of things that I find work well for me most of the time. They don’t magically make pain go away; they bring back functionality, so that I can get through the present task at hand well enough, until I have the ability to take time and space to recuperate more fully.

Technique #1: Breathing. Yes, I know, it sounds very basic! But, regulating breathing is one of the first things that will help settle a panic attack. It helps reset your diaphragm and keeps oxygen flowing through your body so you can avoid passing out. Focus on taking breaths in only through your nose, holding that breath in, and then releasing the breath through your mouth. Different people have different counts for this technique, but I have an easiest time remembering 4 – inhale for a (slow) count of 4/hold for 4/exhale for a count of 4. Repeat as often as needed.

Technique #2: Five senses. This is my favorite technique when it comes to flashbacks. Everyone experiences flashbacks differently; mine no longer take over my consciousness entirely, most of the time. Mostly, it’s like a badly tuned radio, where I can see and/or hear both what’s really going on and what my brain is remembering at the same time, and they’re fighting for broadcast dominance. It can get really disorienting. But this technique helps with that, and with more major flashbacks. Go through all of the steps, and repeat the cycle as much as you need to until you feel yourself stabilizing.

Step 1: Name five things you can see.

Step 2: Name four things you can hear.

Step 3: Name three things you can feel/touch.

Step 4: Name two things you can smell.

Step 5: Name one thing you can taste.

One thing that is less an in-the-moment technique and more of a plan-ahead strategy is to keep things available on hand for yourself that you know are helpful in maintaining or regaining calm. For example, I find that the scent of lavender is very calming and centering for me, so I keep lavender lotion with me whenever possible, and apply it when needed. If you’re a person that benefits from having something to keep your hands busy, keep a fidget with you; if soft things bring you comfort in a moment of crisis, keep a cozy scarf or even a small stuffed animal handy. One thing I noted in my previous belly of the beast post is that having water, especially ice cold water, is often good because it can literally shock your sensory system a bit, giving just enough of a jolt to reorient yourself. However, if a flashback or panic attack sneaks up on you regardless of any preparation, the two techniques above are doable without any other materials needed.

This might be a “do as I say, not as I do” comment at the moment, coming from me, but folks – be gentle with yourself. Take care of yourself. Give love to yourself. Yes. We can do hard things. We do them all the time. That doesn’t mean they are any easier because we are used to handling them. Power through when you must; power down and recharge when you can. If you don’t take care of yourself, who else will?