Whispering Wyrd

A few nights ago I had one of the roughest nights and days I’ve had since acute withdrawal.

I’ve had waves before, the sudden returns of withdrawal symptoms, but none as intense as this one. Thankfully they’re fewer and farther apart now, but this one hit really hard. I think it started with a nightmare the night before. Even now, I sometimes have vivid dreams, intense nightmares, about things from my past. The kind that wake me with a racing heart, feeling like I can’t breathe, and just feeling sick.

This one lingered all through the next day. Then came another sleepless night. By the second day, I was a mess.

I laid down hoping to rest, my heart still beating too fast from exhaustion and anxiety. I tried focusing on my breathing. Then a memory surfaced, something tied to that nightmare, and in response to that one single thought, my heart rate jumped dramatically. I watched it happen in real time. My body reacting instantly to one thought, to one memory.

I got up because I knew there was no chance of sleep or even a nap with my heart racing like that. My wife suggested I meditate. Honestly, meditation hadn’t even crossed my mind. My nervous system was in survival mode, replaying old trauma. But I listened to her and sat down anyway.

It took much longer than usual to settle because of my heart rate, but I stayed seated on the cushion.

And it paid off.

After a long meditation session, I was able to get back to my normal routine. That night, I slept better than I have in years. The next morning my wife said, “I’ve only seen you sleep that well a handful of times our entire marriage.” We’ve been married 38 years if that tells you how rarely I sleep that well.

I share this because it really drove home how powerful our thoughts are. Our thinking shapes our experience in very real, physical ways. This whole episode started with a memory that led to a nightmare, followed by another memory that made everything worse and prolonged the suffering.

Not everyone has trauma that causes these kinds of cascading spirals. But those who do probably know exactly what I’m talking about.

A lot of us turned to alcohol or drugs to numb those thoughts, feelings, and memories. I did. First alcohol, then benzos. That cost me decades.

But even without trauma, we can all see how thoughts affect our lives. If we constantly take in things that upset or overwhelm us, it shows up in our bodies and our moods. On the other hand, when we make an effort to engage with things that support our well-being, that matters too.

That single memory that made my heart race even faster showed me how quickly things can spiral. The meditation session that calmed me showed me the other side of that coin, how changing where we put our attention can be healing.

I’m not saying this is easy. And I’m definitely not saying traumatic memories or panic responses are “all in your head.” Please don’t ever listen to someone who dismisses your experiences.

I live with PTSD. I know from experience what panic attacks, anxiety, and depression feel like. The body remembers trauma, even when we consciously know we’re safe in the present moment.

What I am saying is that when our nervous system goes into panic, we still have tools. Sometimes it starts with something as simple, and as hard, as coming back to the breath.

That recent wave knocked me off the rails for a couple of days. But I came back. I didn’t reach for alcohol. I didn’t try to figure out how to get some pills just to get through it. I listened to my wife. I meditated. And slowly, my system settled.

If something like this happens to you, please talk to someone you trust. Please remember that our bodies affect our thoughts, and our thoughts affect our bodies. I don’t pretend to have universal answers, what works for me may not work for someone else. Please do whatever helps you feel grounded and safe (just not drugs or alcohol).

If you’d like, feel free to share in the comments what helps you. You never know, it might be exactly what someone else out there needs to hear.

That’s what this blog is about. I share my experiences in the hope that something here might help someone else.

If you’re struggling right now, please know you’re not alone.

Amituofo
~Buck