I want this blog to be about my personal experiences over the last two years and beyond, sharing my journey with complete transparency, how it has affected my life as well as the lives of those close to me. It’s a blog for the outside world to look through the window and see my views, my thoughts, my emotions, my hurt, and, of course, my journey to finding my way again.

My prayer is that, as readers, you’ll be able to take something away from these posts—maybe something you can use to lift up your own life, your own spirit, or perhaps someone else’s.

So when I decided I was going to share this particular topic this month on Level 3, I struggled with it. Was it too personal? Too raw? Was it even the right time? As I sat with my hesitation, I realized a few things.

First: F*ck it, share how you feel Liz. There’s no time like the present.

Second: I couldn’t possibly cover this topic in full and give it the attention it deserves in just one frog post.

So I decided I might as well open the door to this room and let you take a peek inside. My only prerequisite is that you remember this: you are never alone, no matter what you are going through or what you have been through.

Entering Level 3… Part 1

What’s Behind That Door?

Oh hey, it’s just me, Trauma.

Nice to finally meet you.

I’ve been waiting for you.

We all experience life-changing events at some point in our lives. Sometimes those events are trauma-free, and sometimes they are filled with trauma. I believe good can come from both. Yep, even as I write this to you from my “cabana” in the dungeon.

But how do we make it through those traumatic events? The really tough ones. The ones that alter the direction of your life. You know, the ones that make you do a complete 180. How mentally and emotionally strong does a person have to be?

We’ve all suffered through life-changing events at some point in our lives. And if you haven’t yet, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but don’t worry—it’ll happen eventually. None of us are immune to trauma. Life is tough, but we have to be tougher.

But how tough does someone need to be to endure a life-changing accident and then be blindsided by a serious breast cancer diagnosis, all within a twelve-month period?

Oh! Pick me! I know! 

You have to be stronger than you ever knew you could possibly be. You have to be very strong. And I’m not talking about physical strength. You have to be strong enough to get out of bed every day, even when you don’t want to. Strong enough to put one foot in front of the other, even when your feet feel stuck in Mississippi mud.

And that’s just for starters.

At the time, it didn’t feel like strength. It just felt like doing. Going through the motions. It wasn’t living. It was existing as a shadow of who I once was, never knowing if the real Liz would ever come back—was she even still here?

People can only see what’s on the outside—not what’s on the inside. There’s only One who can truly see that, and He knows exactly what’s up.

I don’t expect anyone to fully understand how I felt on the inside or how my heart broke every day while trying to be “strong,” just as I don’t expect to fully understand someone else’s struggles. I’m sure many of you do know what it feels like when tragedy happens to you, a loved one, or a friend. 

Marriages. Divorces. Births. Deaths. Cancer. Remission. New cars. Car accidents. The list could go on forever. All of these things and many more, can and will change a person’s life.

Everyone you meet has experienced life-changing events. Many times, we meet people before, during, or after those moments. I think we’re often quick to judge someone’s circumstances when we don’t understand the full spectrum of events—large or small—that brought them to where they are today.

In my own journey, I don’t expect anyone to fully comprehend what I felt while dealing with those life-changing blows. However, there were people who stood by me before, during, and I know there are people who will be there in the after.

Try to find those people. The ones who are full of love and compassion. Because you never know when you’ll need them—or when they might need you.

No one knows what it was like when I went home each night. How mentally exhausted I was from being “strong.” But someone was always waiting for me when I got home. Someone who, I realized, had been with me since my accident. Trauma. 

I couldn’t get away from Mr. Trauma, no matter which way I turned. The accident. The cancer. Both came with a weight of trauma that I couldn’t shake. I just needed to learn how to carry it.

Family, friends, and acquaintances would try to encourage me.

“Oh Liz, it gets easier.”

“You’ll get over it.”

No. 

Actually, I don’t think traumatic events get easier. It’s like having a secret room in your mind. You get to decide whether to keep going into that room. You decide how long you’ll stay there. You decide whether to bring your family in, your friends in, or keep it to yourself.

Do you leave the door wide open so people can come and go? Do you leave it cracked open because you can’t quite bring yourself to close it completely? Or have you closed and locked it entirely?

Unfortunately, we can’t throw away the key.

Those experiences are part of us. Part of our story. What we learn to do is lock the door and put the key in our pocket. Some days we feel the weight of that key more than others. We can visit that room if we need to. But eventually, we learn to control when we enter it and who we choose to share it with.

Just know this: 

You do not have to sit in that darkness alone. There is light in there. You just have to find it. One day you’ll be strong enough to walk out of that room. Then one day you’ll be strong enough to close the door. And then, one day, you’ll be strong enough to lock it and put the key in your pocket.

To Be Continued…

DC Liz