Therapeutic Exhumation

In the spirit of how triggering Friday the 13th can be for some people, I’m feeling an urge to write about exhumation. Digging up dead bodies is not something I let noodle around in my brain too long. But, figuratively, there’s such a correlation. Sometimes to move forward, you have to dig shit up.

Exhumation: the action of digging up something buried; the exposure of a surface once buried

That’s exactly what I’ve been working on really hard the last couple of years with my therapist. I was finding myself having full blown anxiety attacks in random situations after hearing certain words, phrases or tones. In order to figure out what the heck has been triggering me and why, I’ve been diving deep into these intense feelings, reliving the moment of panic to acknowledge and understand it, and then I recognize that it is a decision to move past it.

Trauma sucks. It’s not something you ever “get over”. We don’t ever expect it or see it coming. It isn’t our fault or something we ask for. But if it’s not addressed, it will absolutely bleed into all aspects of life.

It’s not fun revisiting traumatic moments I’ve suppressed since childhood or my early twenties. It’s exhausting and sometimes even debilitating in emotional, mental and physical ways. But tackling this is a commitment I’ve made to myself to be the best version of me I can be.

I’m a huge advocate for therapy. I recommend it to every human no matter what their life is like. I have had the same Cognitive Behavioral Therapist for about 6 years now. She rules. The mindfulness she teaches me helps me unlearn the narrative I once identified with so I can grow into the destiny I’m creating for myself.

It’s not shameful to say you’re working on being a better version of yourself. It’s admirable.