Grief and Flashbacks

*Disclaimer* I am not a pastor, licensed counselor, or psychiatrist. The information on grief and flashbacks in this post is just based on my personal experience. I’m just a grieving girl wanting to help other people. If you ever need help, please contact a professional or call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline 1-800-273-8255. 

A few years ago, when I heard the terms flashbacks and PTSD, I pretty much only ever thought of poor soldiers coming home from war. However, I now realize that you can have PTSD and flashbacks from things other than just war. Such as grief, And death. 

The day my dad died suddenly is a day that I would 100% wish I could forget. But it is a day that I can remember in painstaking detail. The phone call. My “nephew’s” shoe left in the middle of the play area as we raced out the door. Being brought into a room to talk to the doctor. The look in my sister’s eyes when they told us my dad was gone. Throwing up in the hospital bathroom. The staff handing me a bag with my dad’s shoes. Sitting on the couch hearing the TV but not understanding how this could be real. Eventually falling asleep. 

The one day I wish I could forget is the one day I can’t seem to stop replaying. It’s better now. I only have certain days where the flashbacks will come. But for a while after, they were almost constant. I left like my heart stopped every time the phone rang (that actually still happens). Every phone call gives me anxiety because I instantly remember that phone call from my mom. 

It’s honestly surprising what causes a flashback to come.

-pause-

I put this break in the post because that’s where I stopped when I first started to write this post back in the middle of 2020. Turns out when you start talking about grief and flashbacks…it can trigger them to come. I had to stop writing this post for a long time because it was painful. Grief isn’t an easy journey. Some days and weeks and months are fine, but sometimes a flashback will hit ya, and you’re back to being broken and grieving.

If you’re unlucky enough to face flashbacks and PTSD symptoms with your grief, you aren’t alone. Sometimes a thought, a location, or even a smell can trigger it and I’ll be right back to that day my dad died.

My office bathroom and hallways often smell like the waiting room and bathroom smelled the day my dad died. There are times I can smell that smell and I get nauseous and clammy. I begin to replay every moment of that hellish day in my mind- and sometimes all it takes is the smell of a cleaner. I also do a lot of hand gestures and mannerisms that my dad did…I’ll catch myself doing something he did (like how I push my glasses up off my nose constantly) and the flashbacks will come.

I think grief is so hard because grief isn’t just grief…it encompasses so many other emotions and struggles. Grief is loss and trauma and anxiety and learning to live a normal life again.

I remember thinking shortly after my dad died, “how am I supposed to ever move forward when even little things cause flashbacks and I relive it again?” And honestly, even over 3 years later, I still think that is a valid point. However, the flashbacks have slowed and I’m dealing. Lots of prayers, some counseling, and allowing myself to grieve when I need to do so. I’m a firm believer that grief never fully goes away, you just learn to adapt and the pain decreases over time.

The “grief and…” series is something I started a long time ago but my own mental health kept me from continuing it for a while. The irony. The post about flashbacks brought back more flashbacks.

Grief is a journey and a lot of you have walked it with me over the last few years. A few posts I’m planning to do in this series are Grief and Trauma, Grief and Your Friends, and Grief and the Struggle to Move on. Are you grieving? Let me know what kind of posts would be beneficial for you.

Also, always remember, please consult a therapist, pastor, etc. for any mental health issues. There is never anything wrong with getting help. My posts are written just from my own point of view & from my own walk through grief. You’re never alone.