Stationary Love: Where Almost is Enough

Yesterday I missed the bus. I spent three hours mapping my route and preparing myself because that is what PTSD does to the brain. In a panic, I had to make a split decision. I rushed a few blocks over and boarded the bus on the route I am most afraid of, because of all the violence. The entire ride, I felt out of my body. 

I made it to my first stop and walked a block to board a train. I got on the train and felt something boiling in the back of my throat. I thought you are almost there, keep going.

I got off the train and mentally prepared myself to walk a few blocks in the dark to my destination. I started walking through the empty park-n-ride and found myself sitting at a bench, unable to breathe. I wanted to get up and keep going, but my mind would not move my feet. I was hyperventilating and began worrying someone would see me and try to take advantage of me. I still couldn’t move, though. 

I felt my phone buzz and opened it to see a text from a friend. 

Did you make it?

I’m sitting at a bench.

At the station?

Yes. I’m frozen. I want to snap out of it, but I feel frozen.

I’m coming to get you. 

In a few minutes, my friend walked up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. At this point, I was sobbing, hyperventilating, and digging my nails into my thighs. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to come get me. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to do this on my own. I’m so sorry.”

He chuckled and said, “You don’t need to apologize.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and sobbed into his sweatshirt. He just held me. 

“I was almost there. I made it all this way, and then I just couldn’t make my feet move. I was so close and I couldn’t do it.” I was hysterical at this point, but he kept hugging me and let me get it out. He just existed with me in that moment. 

When I finally calmed down and drank some water, he started walking me to my destination. At the first intersection, he looked at me and said, “Do you want to hold my hand?” I felt like a little kid again — scared to cross the street. I took his hand in mine. By the time we were there, he said so many ridiculous things that I was laughing again and had almost forgotten about my panic attack.

This is how healing happens. While I have tried the books, meditations, therapy, etc., it is in these moments that I look back and notice things actually changing. While I did not make the entire journey alone, I did make it to my destination with help. The almosts become all the way when you allow yourself to be loved again, and if you can almost make it there, you are doing better than not going at all.

I am fortunate to be loved, and I built that. I actively choose to engage when my mind wants me to seclude myself. I choose people who don’t blame me and who accept me in all the seasons of my life. I give back in the ways I can and never promise more than I have. I allow the people I love to lift me up when I don’t know how to stand. That is the real secret to my survival — love. Yesterday, I almost made it to my destination, and I am proud of that win.