Post Traumatic Growth: What the Lord Is Doing in My Mind And Nervous System

Today I had a conversation with my brother that reminded me of something powerful about PTSD.

For context, my brother has lived a life most people cannot imagine.

He joined the military at 17. By 19 he had already completed two tours. By 23 he had gone through divorce and carried a lifetime of trauma from childhood as well.

We grew up watching men abuse our mother. My father and his father were different, but the chaos and violence around us was real.

Today my brother is a detective. A very good one, if I may say so.

He has worked in homicide, special victims, and he is a hostage negotiator. He has seen more dead bodies than the average person ever will. He has seen the worst things done to children. He has sat across from men who committed unspeakable acts and negotiated with them.

He also struggles with PTSD.

But today he told me something that stayed with me.

He said,

“It’s not post-traumatic depression. It’s post-traumatic growth.”

And he explained that many times we struggle with PTSD because we don’t want to process what happened. We resist feeling it. We resist releasing it. We try to push it away or distract ourselves from it. And when we do that, we can become stuck in it.

Instead of moving through it.

I share that because I still struggle with PTSD too.

I still have panic attacks.

Certain things trigger fear in me.

Leaving the house with my four children can feel overwhelming sometimes. One of my sons elopes and another physically depends on me for mobility support getting in and out of the car. He is also nonverbal.

So much of my life happens inside my home.

In many ways, creating content and building this community has been my anchor to the outside world. It is the way I stand in the gap and use my voice.

But every time I hit “post,” there is still a very real battle in my mind.

Fear.

Doubt.

The memories of things that once made me feel unsafe.

Recently, after my ex was served legal papers, I had a panic attack. The police had told me he was angry, and my body immediately went into fear because it remembered what anger used to mean.

In the past I might have spiraled.

I might have disappeared.

I might have stopped posting.

But this time I didn’t.

I kept building this community.

I kept showing up.

And instead of running from the panic, I processed it.

I didn’t numb it with sin.

I didn’t distract myself from it.

I fell to my knees on the kitchen floor while washing dishes when the police called. I cried. I breathed. I prayed.

And I let my nervous system release what it needed to release.

Was I perfect afterwards? No.

Did I still lose patience with my kids that day? Yes.

Did the laundry sit on the couch for longer than it should have? Also yes.

But I gave myself grace because I knew something important:

My nervous system had just gone through shock.

And instead of attaching myself to fear, I returned to the security I now have in the Lord.

Over the last almost three years walking with Christ, He has given me a deep sense of safety in Him.

To the point where I carry an Esther mentality in my heart:

“If I perish, I perish.”

— Esther 4:16

Meaning I will still obey.

I will still show up.

I will still do what God asks of me.

The process that brought me here has been one of the most difficult things I have ever done. For a long time I ran from my pain. I ran to sin. I distracted myself from the parts of my story that hurt too much.

But the Lord gently brought me back to those places so they could be healed.

And today I can say that what once tried to destroy me is now becoming post-traumatic growth.

Not because I am strong.

But because the Lord has been patient with me while I learned how to trust Him with the places that once terrified me.

And that is my testimony today.

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