The Ignition of My Unraveling
I’ll never forget that fateful day during the summer of 2013 – you know, one of those memorable events that seem to be forever seared into your psyche, where you can recall every vivid detail; where you were, who you were with, and what you were wearing. It was as if time stood still, and for a moment, it did.
It was Sunday, June 30, 2013. I had just come home from competing in a senior Olympics track and field meet. It was a hot summer day, as are most June days in New Mexico, with a cloudless bright blue sky. And although I was tired, I was upbeat, having done well in the competition. I was resting in the living room while my husband was watching the news, and both my young adult children were doing whatever young adults do on weekends.
I remember that it was late afternoon when my work cell phone rang, which wasn’t unusual, since as a wildland fire first responder, I was on call 24/7/365, especially in the middle of wildland fire season in the southwest. When I answered, my fire director was on the other end. It was unusual for him to call me direct. He said, “There’s been an incident on a wildfire in Arizona, and we can’t get a hold of one of the crews.” Of course, even though this was not uncommon in this job, it took me by surprise. “I’ll let you know when I hear anything,” he said. I could hear the concern in his voice, the uncertainty of the whereabouts of those firefighters under his command here in the US Forest Service Southwestern Region.
It couldn’t have been 10 minutes when my phone rang again, and this time, those dreaded words: “They’re gone, they’re all gone, the whole crew is gone.” Time stood still. As we always do as first responders, I immediately jumped into fight mode, the adrenaline and cortisol pulsing through my veins, my heart beating vigorously, ready to jump into action. “It was the Granite Mountain Hotshot crew from Prescott, AZ on the Yarnell Hill fire,” he said. “They were in a burn-over, and the entire crew is dead, and I need you to assist in putting together an accident investigation team.”
The Unraveling Begins
The concern in his voice faded to great sadness and heartbreak. I sprang into action, since this incident was also on my watch as the US Forest Service regional wildland fire operations health and safety specialist. Any wildfire-related injury, accident, incident, illness, or fatality was my responsibility to cover. Even though this tragic incident was not under our jurisdiction, I felt a sense of duty to do everything in my power to support everyone involved.
I started my wildland fire career in 1979 as one of the few female firefighters at the time and worked up the ranks to leadership, eventually landing this job where I truly felt I could make a difference in the lives, health, safety, and wellness of wildland firefighters and other first responders. However, I didn’t recognize the tremendous toll this job took on my personal health and wellbeing.
All those years I had dedicated to teaching and coaching others how to practice self-care, especially during chaos or cumulative stress, caught up to me at age 58. Looking back to that single event in 2013, I realize that it was just the beginning – the ignition – to the unraveling of my life, which resulted in my diagnosis of complex post-traumatic stress in January 2016.
My emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual bucket or fuel load was overflowing, and the Yarnell Hill tragedy appeared to be a catalyst and the last drop in my emotional bucket. Yet I held on, ignoring the red flags, distracting myself through busyness and working out until it no longer worked. It all came crashing down in December 2015 after a series of personal crises after Yarnell Hill. It was as if the universe took me upside the head with a 24, saying, “Enough already! It’s time to take care of yourself.”
What had started as smoldering embers was now a raging inferno, and I was desperate to find validation and normalization for what I was experiencing and to feel safe again. My life as I had known it was unrecognizable. This former elite athlete, personal fitness trainer, integrative health coach, college professor, and wildfire leader had been incinerated to ashes. This place was foreign territory for me to navigate, especially on my own, and it was terrifying.
A Healing Journey Begins
For decades, I had been the strong one, the rock, teaching everyone else about health, wellness, and self-care, even teaching workshops about dealing with traumatic stress. And now, I had become the student and had to find strength and courage in a completely different way. I was being challenged to find my own sense of calm in my new reality of total chaos – the chaos of complex post-traumatic stress, complicated grief, Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, anxiety, and depression.
Ironically, as we now know with PTS and CPTS, the tools and modalities that may have worked before no longer worked for me. The friends, family members, and members of the wildfire community who used to be there for me and had my back had all but disappeared into the sunset, and I found myself feeling completely alone – this too was gut-wrenching.
Sadly, in the wildfire community, along with other emergency first responders, the incidence of PTS and CPTS have skyrocketed, yet traumatic stress continues to be in the backwoods of conversation. In August 2018, I was forced to retire after more than 30 years in service to first responders, Mother Earth, and all her inhabitants – this was primarily due to my CPTS and inability to work in such a stressful, trauma-filled, and demanding environment. As it turns out, it was a blessing because it provided me the time and dedication to focus on my health and wellbeing and embark on my personal healing journey.
Discovering the Path to Healing
I had done such a great job all my life of suppressing my grief, trauma, and dark emotions rather than allowing them to happen naturally and organically. As I now see it, the cumulative stress from unhealed childhood trauma and wildland fire trauma over the decades was just too much for my sensitive nervous system and soul to endure.
Like my overburdened and stressed nervous system, the decades of forest fuel buildup and mismanagement – and not allowing wildfire to burn naturally and organically – has led to a very injured and vulnerable ecosystem that is now a tinder box just waiting for the next ignition source to complete the cycle of life. Yet I have learned so much these past seven years, and despite the suffering, I would not change it. I truly believe that the universe took me upside the head, forcing me onto this healing journey, because knowing my stubbornness, I would not have done it on my own.
I’ve learned that in most cases, it takes a crisis to finally come to terms and heal our wounds. Whether a chronic illness, mental health condition, divorce, addictions, or other traumatic event, we often do not choose this path on our own. I liken it to the grace of God – there are just too many synchronicities and weird, unexplainable events that have happened and have no real explanation that have really opened my eyes and caused me to believe in something much greater than myself.
The Power of Somatic Practices
I have also come to realize that CPTS and PTS are not disorders; they are not diseases, and they do not require a label. They are simply injuries to the sensitive nervous system, which was designed specifically to keep us safe and from harm. As first responders, our nervous systems have been on overdrive for years, if not decades. And with that comes a plethora of issues that manifest physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
Along with my CPTS, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, an auto-immune disorder through which the thyroid gland attacks itself. I see this as another injury caused by traumatic stress and toxicity endured for decades. Understanding what I now know about the thyroid gland, no wonder this happened after a lifetime of suppressing my voice and not speaking my truth. If truth be told, not many people wanted to hear what I had to say, starting with my father.
Sadly, this is commonplace in many childhoods, particularly among first responders and women. Sadly, this is where many of these traumatic stress events start – in childhood. I also recognize that as a wildland firefighter, I was subjected to numerous toxins during my career. As wildland firefighters, we do not wear breathing apparatus like structural firefighters, only an occasional bandana to keep out the “big chunks,” as I refer to the particulate matter that we continuously inhale.
I liken wildland firefighting to being as close to war as you can come; we are fighting a battle with an enemy over which we have no control. Oftentimes, while on the fireline, you can’t see or hear the enemy until it comes roaring down upon you with incredible power and velocity. We work hours, days, weeks, and months without adequate rest while our stress hormones continue to flood our bodies, keeping us in a state of survival stress.
And now, with so many fires in the wildland-urban interface, where the houses and wildlands coexist, as firefighters, we have no idea what we are inhaling – the toxins and the chemicals. Our lungs ache and burn, our throats scratchy and sore, our eyes watery and bloodshot, and our bodies achy and exhausted. We also know that so many of our illnesses and diseases originate at the cellular level and need to be addressed at the cellular level to truly get to the root cause.
Epigenetics teaches us that we are all genetically predisposed to some illnesses, yet those same genes require some event to turn the gene to the “on” position before it manifests into something worse. Yet here we are as wildland firefighters, providing the perfect storm for our genes to respond – traumatic stress and toxins.
It wasn’t until I met my current trauma therapist and started doing very deep internal healing techniques at my pace that I started to heal. This is because my amazing trauma therapist had experienced her own healing journey through complex trauma and grief and found her way through after years of her own work. This therapist validates me, provides empathy and hope, along with holding safe and sacred space. She never judges me, shames me, or tells me how I need to heal. She sees and hears me, and she loves me just the way I am in all my brokenness and keeps me safe. She has been guiding me to find my own medicine. For her, I will always be grateful.
I found great healing through somatic, body-based practices, especially trauma-sensitive yoga and wisdom healing qigong. Because our sensitive nervous systems are so overwhelmed and injured, much of our unhealed trauma and grief gets stored throughout our bodies in our muscles, fascia, organs, bones, and cells. Until we start to do somatic movement that helps to release that stored energy, we will continue to deal with chronic illness and other related issues.
Embracing a Calm Writing Routine
As I embark on my journey of writing and sharing my story, I am committed to cultivating a calm writing routine. Ironically, I sometimes feel stressed when I write, as if my teeth literally went numb. I remember a time when writing didn’t come with a heap of expectations or mental resistance. Somewhere along the line, what should be simple and joyful has become a source of stress and judgment.
That’s why I’m determined to find a calm writing routine that works for me. I want to imagine the satisfaction of writing all the untold stories out of my heart and onto the page without fear or judgment. I want to nurture my creativity like it’s a plant, allowing my writing routine to cycle through its own springs and winters, working with my body and mind, not against it.
One of the ways I’m trying to cultivate calm is by embracing 15-minute writing sprints. I’ve found that my brain works best in short bursts of focused attention, without the time to overthink or compare myself to others. I also make sure I’m comfortable while writing, with the right tools and accessories to support my body and senses.
Writing affirmations has also become a foundation of my calm writing routine. These affirmations help me access my nurturing and compassionate side, replacing self-doubt with hope and excitement. I’ve learned that self-compassion gets me further in the long run than my inner critic.
Ultimately, I want my writing to be a nourishing hobby, not a golden ticket. I’m embracing the natural ebb and flow of my creativity, recognizing that inspiration doesn’t always fit into a perfectly curated box. By finding alignment with what truly inspires me, I’m cultivating a sense of calm and grounding that allows my stories to unfold organically.
Hotel Stay Inn Seoul is the perfect place to immerse yourself in this journey of finding calm through journaling. With its serene ambiance and supportive community, you’ll be inspired to uncover the stories that lie within, one word at a time.
