Trauma’s Song

Trauma. I am no stranger to its ways.

It comes without warning and takes hold playing me like a fiddle. It readies its bow and strikes the dissonant chords of an all-too familiar place. At this junction in trauma’s song, all I can do is feel the vibrato of a melody I didn’t choose. I hold on for dear life and do my best waiting for the song to end. But it lingers on.

I wait, wanting resolution but the song has merely begun. The music crescendos into a beastly overture that consumes me. The overwhelming vibrations of fear, anger, sadness, and loneliness surface and with each jarring sound, I question if the song will ever end.

I don’t like this part of the melody. Its tune is chaotic and confusing to my soul. I cry and shout in pain while praying for it to end. I’m afraid, sad and lonely. I want to crawl into a hole and stop the music completely. But if I stop the song, I stay stuck in trauma’s grip stuffing and numbing the pain. Bitterness, resentment, depression and anxiety become my companions and take up residency while hardening my heart. Is this what I want? I ponder the notion. For staying here would be easy in some ways. Staying would allow me to shut down my heart and no longer feel the pain. That sounds appealing. After all, feeling is hard. Stopping trauma’s song, however, holds a valued and worthy tune captive, while imprisoning my soul.

So what if I choose to move on? What must I know or be ready for? Pain. Great pain. For there is no way around it.

To get to the other side of trauma’s song, I will have to feel all of my hurt, anger, fear and sadness and know that the song’s melody won’t change until I grieve it all. Playing it out requires me to fully feel what lies within and ride the highs and lows of a scale that climbs and plummets, sometimes without warning. I can’t skip over it, for the Composer wrote the song this way. But if I choose this route, the ending is different. I don’t stay in the dissonant chaos of confusing chords that don’t make sense and trauma doesn’t get the last word. The song, instead resolves and comes to a beautiful ending. An ending that unlocks the buried treasures of my soul freeing me to experience the gifts of passion, healing, joy and love.

I actually have a choice in whether to play the song or not. But I must know the consequences of the choice I make. It’s a hard decision, but I choose to let the music play on and give myself full permission to acknowledge all the companions of trauma’s song. The hurt, fear, sadness, and anger. In choosing to play it out something happens. A slower more melodic harmony arises, one that allows me to breathe again. The peaceful cadence of this new melody pays tribute to the pain and loss. Sadness is felt and grief acknowledged. A cleansing occurs. And through it all, my soul finds rest, the music resolves and I am freed of trauma’s ways. It’s a beautiful and worthy song to play.