I’m Not Okay, and Neither Are You

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In the landscape of human experience, the term trauma ranks among the most subjective. Interestingly, “trauma” is spelled the same in various languages, including English, Spanish, German, and Italian. Yet, if you were to ask a hundred people what trauma signifies to them, you would likely receive a hundred distinct interpretations.

For me, trauma is anything that leaves a mark on my soul. It might sound strange to some, but it resonates deeply with me. You don’t have to grasp the nuances of my trauma for it to be valid; even if you think it’s trivial, it remains significant to me.

In my nearly 40 years of life, I’ve faced profound losses: my father, my brother, all my grandparents, twin babies, and my nephew. Throughout my 18+ year journey as a social worker, I’ve encountered the harrowing stories of victims of violent crimes, sexual abuse, and neglect. (This isn’t a résumé of suffering—just stay with me here.) Each experience has left its own stain on my soul, some of which I’ve managed to process while others remain unresolved.

I was just 14 when my father passed away, a loss that shifted my perspective on life forever. I was navigating a fairly smooth path until suddenly, a whirlwind of trauma swept me off course. Anger and bitterness consumed me; I distanced myself from loved ones to conceal the turmoil brewing inside me. “Why me?” echoed in my mind whenever I saw friends with their fathers. What had I done to deserve such pain? This loss forced me to re-evaluate everything I thought I understood about my life.

As I grew into my roles as a therapist and a mother, my world was shaken again when my brother succumbed to a drug overdose. At 30, I found myself grappling with a new set of challenges and emotions. Though my questions shifted, the theme of blame lingered: Why couldn’t I save him? What more could I have done? In my effort to be the caretaker, I bottled up the blame, sadness, and hurt, trying to convince myself I was okay and moving forward. Unfortunately, my distorted view of life led me to stumble and struggle in ways I hadn’t before.

Through these experiences, I’ve come to realize that pretending to be “fine” is the worst thing I can do. When I’m grappling with pain and loss, claiming I’m okay only exacerbates the original trauma. Denying my feelings allows the impact of those experiences to grow more profound.

I’m not suggesting you spill your heart out to every acquaintance, but instead of defaulting to “I’m fine,” consider expressing something more authentic. Literally anything else, because saying you’re “fine” isn’t truly living.

Life isn’t guaranteed to be pain-free. We can’t just skip through a fantastical realm, but by being honest with ourselves and those we trust, we can rise from our struggles and find peace in chaotic times.

Humans are beautifully flawed; we have the capacity to love and hurt with equal intensity. As a social worker, I witness both the best and worst of humanity. I’ve encountered resilient individuals who carry their scars with grace, and it has been a privilege to learn from their stories.

However, this work has also left its marks on me. I’ve held the hands of survivors bravely sharing their truths, helped children understand that their abuse wasn’t their fault, and comforted a mother grappling with addiction as her child was taken from her. I’ve sat with a young boy traumatized by violence, waiting for him to feel safe enough to return to class.

I am not a saint or a hero; I am simply human. I chose to be part of this field to support my fellow beings, and in doing so, I’ve absorbed my share of pain. It’s okay not to be fine.

Reach out to someone you trust when you’re struggling. Acknowledge your pain and seek help when necessary. Prioritizing self-care begins with honesty and connecting with those who can support you through your burdens. Stay aware of your soul’s needs and resist the urge to simply declare you’re “fine.”

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In summary, acknowledging our struggles and being true to our feelings is crucial for healing. Embracing vulnerability allows us to connect with others and navigate life’s challenges more effectively.

Keyphrase: Understanding Trauma and Healing

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