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Lucy: PTSD Recovery (Part 2)

First published

A face lit in deep blue and violet light, softly out of focus, illustrating Lucy’s Our Stories episode on complex PTSD recovery.
Complex PTSD recovery isn’t a straight line. It can look more like coming back to breath, and to art.
From Our Stories (2020), directed by Kelly Paoli, with cinematography by Jonathan Choi.

Originally released 2020

In Episode 10, Part 2 of Our Stories, Lucy talks about the months after a critical incident at work: a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder, serious illness, and the changes that followed, including a return to making art. Read Part 1 first for the incident itself.

Lucy shares her own experience and views, including about her health and about PTSD. These are her opinions, not medical advice. If you’re living with PTSD, a health professional can help you work out what’s right for you.

Watch Episode 10, Part 2 on YouTube · See all episodes of Our Stories

Transcript

This transcript is lightly edited for reading: punctuation added, and “uh” and “um” removed where the meaning is unchanged.

I didn’t stop crying for four months. I couldn’t, I couldn’t shut off, I couldn’t shut off my tear ducts. And so I could be having a conversation, and even laughing, but I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t shake this intense feeling of impending doom that followed me everywhere I went. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t function. I couldn’t move my head, because I’d become so stiff.

The next day, I had to be back at work at 8 o’clock in the morning, and I remember my supervisor looking at me. And she saw that I was crying, and her response was, knowing what we had just been put through, her response was, “Well, there must be something going on at home, because it can’t be work-related.”

Lucky for me, I was an employee assist, employee referral agent, and I contacted the head of the department, and she knew immediately. She knew me well, and she could sense that I was already starting to unravel because of the nature of my work. And when I called her and explained to her that I didn’t understand why I couldn’t stop crying, she immediately had a meeting with me, and she looked at me and she explained, “Lucy, you have post-traumatic stress disorder. You should go back to the office, gather your things. You’re going to be off for a while.” And I thought that meant a couple weeks. I couldn’t fathom that it would take longer than that for me to recalibrate.

It’s been over six years, and I’m still dealing with the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder. Getting post-traumatic stress disorder, and in my case it’s complex post-traumatic stress disorder because it was years of traumas, physically changes your brain. So it’s like having a stroke.

So one day I woke up, and I couldn’t breathe. Every time I took a breath, it felt like there was a knife meeting my lung. I thought I’d broken my rib. It turned out that my lungs were filling up with water. I was gaining a lot of weight. I was… my organs had started to shut down. And I would later find out that I had developed rheumatoid arthritis, with no family history of it. Turns out there are very clear links between post-traumatic stress disorder and diseases like rheumatoid arthritis.

So now my organs were shutting down, my lungs were filling up with fluid. I was dying. My respirologist made very clear that he didn’t think I’d make it to my next appointment, because of how sick I was, and the only treatment was chemotherapy, which I was not comfortable taking. So I had come to terms with the fact that I was gonna die.

So I used to pray at night, when I was that sick, and I’d be like, “Okay, God, I’m ready. I’m ready. I’ve had a good run. If tonight’s the night, I’m ready for it.” But I couldn’t die, and that was the most difficult part. Because I couldn’t even move. I couldn’t… just to get from my bed to the bathroom was an impossible task.

And I realized then that if I couldn’t die, I had to change every single thing about my life. Now that I couldn’t walk, or breathe, or… and didn’t have very many people to talk to, I realized all there was to do was meditate. So I realized that if I changed my thoughts, I could change the outcome. So I started meditating, and I started doing bodywork, and I started going to nutritionists, and I started taking supplements, and very quickly my body started to respond. So quickly that when I did make it to my next appointment with my respirologist, two months later, he accused me of having somebody do my lung test.

When I developed post-traumatic stress disorder, I went back to a community of artists, and they embraced me with all the, like, broken pieces that I was in. And we had fun, even if we were crying while we were doing it. We turned that sorrow into art. I created something called PTSD Alchemy, which is a website and a platform for me to give people hope. If I could survive the things that I have survived, I know that other people can too. And I know how dark it gets for people.

The process of making art again, the process of coming back to my work, I realized how and why I got sick. I got sick because I stopped making art. I was an artist to begin with. I used to make art and have exhibitions, and I left it all to become something completely different. There’s absolutely hope.

I understand how dark things get, and I understand how and why people commit suicide. Most people who have post-traumatic stress disorder don’t survive, and I completely understand why.

The fundamental part that I have learned through this entire experience is to love myself. Had I loved myself, nobody would have been able to convince me to get onto a plane headed straight into a hurricane. My ultimate work through all of this has been to repair the wounds in me that thought I wasn’t good enough, that thought it’s okay for me to go on to that plane, it’s okay for me to do these things, it’s okay for me to be in these relationships that are toxic.

In order to regain my sanity and my health, I have surrounded myself with all the good things. And if I can impart any wisdom, it’s that: find the people who love you, find the people who make you happy, find the things that make you happy, and stick with them.

About Our Stories

Our Stories is a 10-part documentary series from URevolution. In each episode, one person talks about their own mental health in their own words. See all episodes, transcripts and support resources.

If you need support, find free helplines in Canada, the US, Australia and elsewhere.

Credits

Our Stories production team
Role Name
Director and editor Kelly Paoli
Cinematography Jonathan Choi
Original score Milen Petzelt-Sorace
Executive producers Brendan McDonald and Corinne Gray
Produced by URevolution

About Brendan McDonald, Executive Producer

Brendan McDonald is a disabled Australian writer, editor and co-founder of URevolution, which he now owns and leads. Diagnosed with chronic myeloid leukaemia in 2015, he writes from lived experience of chronic illness and largely invisible disability, particularly where they intersect with work, identity and assumptions about what disability looks like. He previously worked in United Nations humanitarian and emergency-management roles.

Brendan is an executive producer of Our Stories, URevolution’s 2020 documentary series, with Corinne Gray.