I’ve been thinking about sharing this for over a month, but hesitating because of the vulnerability. There was so much shame that came up. I am sharing it now in the hopes that if anyone can relate, they may feel encouraged and less alone.
Last month, I was in a pickleball tournament in my hometown, surrounded by friends who were competing and watching. I was excited to play, happy it was close to home, and pumped to battle it out on the courts with my partners. I was ready to have a great time, which was why I was completely caught off guard when I started having trauma flashbacks on a pretty intense level on day two.
I have complex PTSD, and when I have an episode of post-traumatic stress (stress that happens long after the initial trauma), it can seemingly come out of nowhere. This time, it started in the first match and really took over in the second match. It was men’s doubles day, and I had a great supportive partner. Surrounded by hyper-competitive men, I flashed back to being a little boy in my home and my dad setting me up for failure each day. Now I understand he was just so insecure that his only sense of confidence came from continually showing me how stupid I was.
At the tournament, it was like the world went dark, and instead of being surrounded by friends, my head was filled with criticism for every decision I made and mocking for every mistake. I was crumbling internally like I did as a kid.
It was so surreal because I knew I was having a flashback and that the reality I was living in wasn’t the nightmare I was experiencing. But it was so strong and overwhelming that I couldn’t get myself out of it.
An extra layer of shame that came from knowing that anyone watching probably assumed that I was having a bad attitude or a pity party because I wasn’t winning as much as I wanted. There was no way that anyone could guess that the nightmare in my head was making me feel foolish for signing up for a tournament, shame for calling myself a pickleball player, and suicidal ideation like I grew up with. Logically, I knew that perfection wasn’t possible and that I was playing well. But logic doesn’t help in a trauma response. Perfection was survival during the trauma years, and my body and mind were freaking out at my lack of perfection.
In the days that followed, I felt stunned and in shock, processing whether I could have or should have known what would happen and how I could have managed it differently. But my body had more to show me. Wednesday, I woke up with stomach cramps that lasted for 4 days. During the reflection time I had, I was able to understand that I had been pushing my body too much in general. Between lifting, pickleball, volleyball, and my massage schedule, I was draining my energy to my detriment. But it was also deeper than this.
I am a true introvert in that I love people but don’t get energy from being around people. I have to be alone to recharge. I am also extremely empathic, experiencing the emotions of the people around me like a tuning fork and having to sort what is mine and what is theirs. I also learned this year that I am psychically sensitive, basically continually doing energy work on the people around me. All of these things drain my batteries.
Whether my trauma response makes sense to me or not, I can have compassion on myself, knowing that I drained myself the day before with 8 hours around people, 5.5 hours of competitive play, And being in a stressful environment of competitive men. I also have to be okay with the fact that I may just not play my best in certain situations because of who I am and what I’ve experienced.
My goal with pickleball, whether rec play or tournament, is not primarily to score or win but be in the moment and enjoy the dance of the game. At the end of the day, what I love about pickleball is the joy of movement, challenging myself, and spending time with friends.
A few weeks after the tournament, I had a powerful energy healing session with a dear friend. I have noticed a definite shift since then. it’s easier for me to connect with my playfulness, to be okay with mistakes, and to be proud of myself.
I hope this encourages you or helps you understand complex PTSD a little bit better. Self-compassion is the most helpful thing I have learned in my healing journey.
Rise, and Rise Again 