Safe to Shake

[TW: medical trauma]

In this post I will talk about one of my PTSD symptoms: shaking.

I have been in a support group these past few months, and a memory popped in my head during one of our recent sessions. In 2016 I was in a bad car accident on the highway. I was lying on the side of the road on January 1st (New Year’s Day) without a jacket and shaking as I waited for the ambulance. I was cold, but I wasn’t shaking for that reason. It was my body’s response to the trauma I experienced.

A woman pulled over and draped a coat over me. I continued to shake. I have experienced this trauma response more than once but it took me a while to recognize that it was helpful. I was shaking to release the stress that was stored in my body.

This memory led to so many more memories of shaking. In 5th grade I broke my arm badly. I was sitting in a wheelchair at the hospital shaking and teeth chattering. A woman at a nearby desk asked if I wanted a blanket, and me being me, smiled through the pain and muttered “no thank you.” She brought the blanket anyway. While this post mentions shaking, it is not the same as a shiver from the cold. Shaking for me is losing control of my body, and not knowing when it will stop. I remember learning that traumatized animals who do not shake, can die. This taught me the impact trauma has on the body.

2019

2020-2021 were incredibly hard years. While I was in graduate school in Hawai’i, I had many scary episodes of shaking. Granted, a lot was happening to me health wise, but my PTSD was also bad at this time. I remember sitting on my floor, my entire body shaking, and calling my psychiatrist from across the country. I told her I did not know if this was my PTSD or my heart condition. I was experiencing tachycardia and shaking so severely that my roommate went with me to a hospital in Honolulu. At the ER, they chose a horrible way to try to get my heart rate down. I don’t remember what they called it. I had to blow as hard as I could into a tube, and once I stopped, they lowered the head of my bed, and 2 male nurses grabbed each leg and held them in the air while I was basically upside down. My roommate sat there watching my legs shake even more rapidly. My entire body was convulsing, and I was terrified. I was convinced I was going to go unconscious, and I had zero trust in these people to help me. When they brought me upright again, my heart rate was just as high and now I was more traumatized. They gave me something to lower my heart rate, and when that did not work, I asked for ativan (thinking my anxiety was obviously related). They gave me a small dose, and not much longer, I was not shaking anymore, and my heart rate lowered. They joked that they should have given that to me in the first place. At this point I was dissociated. I just wanted to go home, but they gave me a psych evaluation before I left. Not long after that episode, I left my graduate program. If it isn’t obvious, my move to Hawai’i was not exactly paradise.

honolulu winter 2021

Back home in July 2021 following another traumatic incident, I found myself in fetal position on my psychiatrist’s office floor. I never did that before, but I just instinctively went to the ground. I was nauseous and my whole body was shaking and would not stop. She put a blanket over me (I’m realizing the blanket theme now). The added weight helped, but what helped more was having my body covered and feeling less exposed and vulnerable while in a ball on her floor. I remember worrying that I was having a seizure. I remember trying so hard to stop shaking, without knowing my body was doing what it was supposed to do.

summer 2021 following that therapy session. sweaty and exhausted. (feat. arthritis fingers)

When you’re triggered, when you’re scared, when you’re shaking, often others want you to stop shaking. As much as I want to stop shaking too, I know that this is not always possible. I have to wait it out until my body believes that the danger has passed.

Many times, I have been triggered and will tense my body to keep myself from shaking. It is terrifying to feel that loss of control. I believe that my body is betraying me. It still happens, and most times it is accompanied by fear. I often do not have a reason to be afraid. I will know that in those moments I am truly safe. There are also times where a trigger takes me back to something in my past that was worthy of fear. I can know where I am, but also have my body believe I am somewhere else. My body will believe that the thing of the past is happening all over again.

What works:

There are limited ways to help myself when in public, but when home, I will cope by climbing underneath the covers. I will take a hot bath with the water up to my neck. Sometimes, the shaking won’t stop until I take a beta-blocker that helps calm my symptoms. I have a heart condition as well, so my psychiatrist and cardiologist were on board with this one. The closer I am to the floor, the safer I feel. I have thrown my pillow and blankets on my carpet and curled up there as well. I love all of kinds of music, but I have my “comfort artists” who I listen to when my nervous system is overactive. All of these things make a difference.

It is helpful that I have learned what works. I may not be able to eliminate this trauma response, but I have noticed that each year it is happening less. This could be due to the fact that my life has been more peaceful, and predictable. I used to be in constant crisis and always on guard. I still have my triggers and I always will have triggers. It is about how I navigate those triggers when they arise. It is about trusting my body, even when I really really do not like how it feels.