Maybe Its Just the Rain...

Have you ever woken up feeling okay, but somehow not completely present?

Yeah. That’s exactly where I am today. I slept well. I woke up to the cutest fur baby around. I got ready for church. On the outside, everything is fine. But mentally? I’m somewhere else. My motivation is gone, and I just don’t really feel like doing today.

And that is exactly why I’m going to make myself get out of the house on this rainy day and do a few things I’ve been wanting to do. If you’ve ever dealt with depression, you probably understand what I mean.

Maybe it really is just the rain. Maybe the sound of it is calming me down and making me want to curl up somewhere cozy and do absolutely nothing. But as someone who has dealt with depression and is still learning how to live with PTSD, I also know that sometimes a day like this can go the other way.

So, I pay attention.

I think there’s this idea that fighting depression always means getting out of the house, being productive, surrounding yourself with people, or forcing yourself to socialize. Sometimes it’s much smaller than that. Sometimes it’s taking a shower.

Getting dressed in something that makes you feel good.

Doing your hair.

Leaving the house for a little while.

Checking one thing off your list.

And sometimes, getting through the day is enough.

Depression doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.

The Conversations That Take More Than People Realize

During my trip to Ohio, I had an incredibly vulnerable conversation with Rubi. I shared things with her that I had never told anyone outside of my therapist and doctor.

If you live with PTSD, you probably understand how much it can take out of you to tell your story.

It isn’t simply because the story is personal, painful, or traumatic.

For me, talking about certain experiences can feel like opening the entire wound again.

Suddenly, it isn't only a memory. Your body remembers, too.

The emotions come back. The physical sensations can come back. Your nervous system can feel like it has been thrown into chaos all over again.

And afterward? You are exhausted.

It can put you back into that vulnerable space where anxiety and depression creep in, along with thoughts, feelings, or habits you have worked incredibly hard to manage.

People have asked me whether my PTSD has gone away after removing one of the factors contributing to it and spending three years in therapy.

No.

It hasn't simply disappeared.

Has it gotten better?

I think I've gotten better at understanding myself.

There are situations I can work through now that I couldn't before. There are also times when something triggers me and I don't even immediately understand what the trigger was. Sometimes I need to remove myself from the people around me, find somewhere I feel safe, and figure out what my mind and body are trying to tell me.

One of the biggest changes I made was that I stopped constantly fighting against the fact that PTSD is part of my story. Instead, I started learning how to acknowledge it.

Learning Who You Are Again

I have had to relearn who I am so many times throughout different phases of healing.

Trauma changes you.

For a long time, I think I was searching for the person I was before everything happened. Eventually, I realized healing wasn't necessarily about finding that version of myself again. It was about getting to know the person I am now.

And part of that has meant learning how important it is to surround myself with people who allow me to be myself instead of people I constantly have to mask around.

When I say "be yourself," I don't mean trauma gives anyone permission to hurt other people with their words or actions. We are still responsible for how we treat others.

I mean having people in your life who understand that you're living with something they may never completely understand.

People who know there might be moments when you have a flashback.

Moments when you become overwhelmed.

Moments when you need to walk away.

Moments when you can't explain exactly what is happening inside your head.

They may not understand why you need space in that moment, but they care enough to accept that you do—and they don't immediately make it about themselves.

There is something incredibly freeing about not having to pretend you're okay just to make everyone around you comfortable.

Healing Is Not Linear

Healing is not linear. I don't think it ever will be.

There are good days. There are difficult days. There are days when you realize how far you've come, and there are days when something catches you completely off guard. Finding the right therapist has also made an enormous difference for me.

Therapy should be a place where you feel heard and where your individual needs matter. A good therapist can listen, learn who you are, respect your boundaries, and still challenge you when you need it. And sometimes finding the right person takes time.

And Somehow, We Got Here From the Rain…

This is also a pretty accurate representation of how my brain works.

I started this post talking about waking up on a rainy Sunday feeling a little unmotivated, and somehow we ended up talking about depression, PTSD, trauma, therapy, triggers, and healing. But maybe that's the point. When you've lived through trauma, sometimes you're constantly trying to figure yourself out.

Am I tired?

Am I sad?

Is something triggering me?

Is depression creeping back in?

Do I need rest?

Do I need to get out of the house?

Or is it literally just the rain?

Constantly triaging yourself can be exhausting.

But I think some of it comes from wanting so badly to heal while also being afraid of how the parts of you that are still healing might affect the people around you.

So today, I'm going to get dressed, get out in this rainy weather, and do a few things that make me feel like me.

And tomorrow?

I'll figure out tomorrow when it gets here.

Maybe today really is just a rainy day.

Maybe my mind needs a little extra care.

Maybe it's both.

Either way, I'm learning to listen instead of immediately judging myself for it.

Because this world can be incredibly beautiful, but it can also be incredibly cruel. And after everything some of us have survived, I think we deserve to give ourselves a little grace while we're learning how to live in the beautiful parts again.

If today is one of those days for you too, I hope you do one small thing for yourself.

Take the shower. Put on the outfit. Go get the iced coffee. Read the book. Sit in the car for ten minutes if that's what you need. Check one thing off your list—or simply give yourself permission to rest.

Whatever today looks like for you, I hope you remember that healing doesn't have to look perfect to still be healing.

Have a beautiful and blessed day. 🤍