My dog, Lyle, took off sprinting yesterday on a busy road. He was going so fast, and no matter how hard I ran, I couldn’t begin to catch up. As I ran barefoot down the street, everything around me seemed to be in slow motion. My legs were moving too slowly, yet I felt my heart beating extremely fast. Tears were streaming down my face and all I could do was keep screaming his name, begging for him to stop. I lost him and in those minutes, I felt heartbroken, empty, and scared. I finally found him, looking timid, as if something had spooked him…I grabbed him and held him as tight as I could to my chest.

I don’t know why yesterday’s incident triggered so much past trauma for me. It shook me to my core and effected the rest of my day. I felt helpless in that moment, fear washing over me as he ran towards a busy intersection with cars. I felt like I had no control.

I’ve spent my entire adult life always trying to control everything I can to keep myself balanced and from ruminating over my traumatic past. I try to have control over all the bad things that could possibly occur, hoping to prevent or foresee things before they happen.

I guess my point of sharing this is, I want to be transparent to the fact that I still have a hell of a long way to go before I don’t allow one incident to trigger a whole past of traumatic incidents from child to adulthood. It’s interesting how trauma hides itself in the body, it sticks with you even when you’re not aware. And it comes to the surface out of no where. Flooding out of your eyes in the form of tears. Don’t fight it, let it out. Let your past trauma make itself seen and release it through your tears. Feel the fear, the pain, the worry, and release it.

Losing Lyle for that small window of time, losing control, triggered tears and years of loss that I thought I had gotten a hold of, but clearly not quiet. Maybe the lesson in all this is that it’s ok to never get rid of all of your trauma, but to somehow continue to rise above. To continue to allow yourself to feel it, not put a timeline on when it will disappear, and to be ok knowing it will always be a part of you. And that’s ok.

So grateful my little man is safe. ♥

© Christina Kajal. | ChristinaKajal@gmail.com