The Accident: The ICU but 6 Month's Later On My Therapist's Couch

One morning at the end of an EMDR session for treating my PTSD, my therapist asked me to visualize Rachel from today going back and talking to Rachel in the ICU.

Hard to try and describe the deep, unexpected emotions this evoked. I was overcome with sadness, pain, relief, and a new deep realization. It was in that moment that I realized those were two completely different girls. She looked strong, but ICU Rachel was numb and afraid. No one fully understood how that felt except the Rachel lying on the couch. I wanted to hug that girl so tight, cry with her, and tell her to stop worrying about how others expected her to think, act, and feel. To stop feeling like she needed to downplay it to others and especially to stop downplaying it to herself. Guess what, ICU Rachel? This was every bit as awful as it felt, and to go ahead and really feel it.

I felt so sorry for that girl in the ICU knowing all she still would go through. But as I lied there on the couch that day, for the first time I could see so clearly what an incredibly tough woman I had become. I went through hell, and not only handled it the best way I knew how, but handled it, dare I say, really well.  I now viewed life and challenges differently. I had a new, elevated compassion for others. I had remained a good, involved, capable mother through it all. I had been there for Tom and was even a nurse to him as he healed. I had the good sense to get professional mental help for myself and to accept the physical help from so many good, loving people— even when I very naturally wanted to push a lot of that away.

I wasn’t foolish enough to think I had done this all on my own. Some of the strongest people I know have been through the absolute most crap, and I truly felt Heavenly Father’s hand very purposefully changing who I was. He trusted me to become better through this, and THAT felt amazing.