Raised in rural Northwest Ohio, much of my childhood and early twenties are a blur. However, some memories are etched deeply into my mind, destined to remain for a lifetime. One of the most painful recollections is my father habitually calling me “Porky.” He even took me to a butcher shop once, pointing out my worth by my weight. Unfortunately, “Porky” wasn’t just an at-home nickname; he often called me this in public, sometimes adding a squealing pig sound for extra humiliation. I endured multiple forms of abuse as a child, most of which took place at home. In many households, such behaviors become the norm, and they did for me too.

As I grew up, I often felt out of place. I was clumsy, withdrawn, and a mediocre student at best. It’s strange for the fifty-year-old me to look back at my childhood, which seemed normal at the time, and recognize how dysfunctional and abusive it truly was. I realize now that some people were aware of what was happening behind closed doors but chose to remain silent.

Children are said to be wired for connection, but those raised in trauma and neglect are often wired for protection. Reflecting on my past behaviors, I can see how I developed my own survival toolkit. I was a wounded child with no sense of safety or connection, which left me unconsciously trying to fill a gaping void of missing connection. For decades, I oscillated between trauma responses. Addictions plagued my life, but because I wasn’t engaging in anything illegal, I rationalized my behaviors. I became a serial dater, sabotaging any relationship the moment a connection was made. That was my flight trauma response showing itself. I’m sure there’s a long list of people in therapy with my name attached to their wounds.

I became a paramedic twenty years ago. It was easy for me to thrive in that environment since my life was filled with trauma and chaos. It is ironic how easily I could point out other people’s trauma and dysfunction but completely miss it when I looked at the person in the mirror. Being a paramedic is where many of my fight trauma responses reared their ugly heads. I would be judgmental towards victims of violence for staying in their situations. I would lash out at a parent who stayed with a partner who abused their child. I didn’t directly self-harm, but I often recklessly put myself in unsafe scenes and situations.

It amazes me how I often picked people that were like my dad or that my dad would like. I guess that was my fawn response. I had no idea who I was or what I wanted with my life. In 2006, I was dating someone my dad absolutely loved. He nearly murdered me with a near-fatal strangulation. Along with my abuser, my dad blamed me. I really shouldn’t be shocked by that. There were always rules, and if you disobeyed the rules, there were punishments. Little did I know how life-changing that day would become over the next thirteen years.

Over the several months after being nearly murdered, I started having multiple medical problems. It started with unprompted immune responses that slowly worsened into idiopathic anaphylaxis. From 2006 to 2019, I saw doctor after doctor and had test after test. I was given medical diagnoses like POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), NCS (Neurocardiogenic Syncope), lupus, IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome), depression, anxiety, fibromyalgia, hypothyroidism, migraines, adult ADHD, GERD (Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease), CPTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), along with many others. The final and life-changing blow was when walking and driving became difficult tasks. I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I was so sick and felt like I was slowly dying. My primary care physician sent me to get a CT of the brain, which showed several abnormalities, so they ordered an MRI of the brain. That MRI showed previous trauma. I was asked if I was ever in a car accident or had any trauma. My doctor was a female, and we talked about my strangulation event. She referred me to a neurologist. That neurologist ordered his own testing and concluded that I had an advanced form of MS (Multiple Sclerosis) because there were lesions on my MRI of the brain. He told me that the trauma I had in the past couldn’t possibly be impacting my medical health thirteen years later. He told me that I couldn’t drive at night anymore nor could I be a paramedic. He even went as far as to tell me I would be lucky to see fifty. He encouraged me to start the disability process and wanted to put me on a long list of medications. I was infuriated, to say the least.

That was in 2019, the year that my life came to a screeching halt. That brought me to my knees and challenged my will to live. I just felt in the depths of my soul that I wasn’t this sick. I started to research the brain injury my primary care physician had mentioned. I ended up coming upon a woman from Minnesota who talked about her brain injury acquired from a fall while walking her dog. Many of her symptoms mirrored mine. I reached out to her to talk more about the treatment she received at a functional neurology clinic. I had never encountered functional medicine or knew what to expect. I ended up reaching out to them and talked about my medical mayhem. They said they thought they could help me and would take me on as a patient. There was only one problem—they didn’t take insurance. I didn’t have the cash or credit to go there, and I wasn’t working. I talked to my mom, who knew I was struggling with my mental health after losing the career I loved so much. She offered to not only help me pay but to go to the clinic with me. Before we left the airport, I vividly remember telling my mother that if they couldn’t help me, I didn’t want to live anymore.

June 10, 2019, my freedom day, as I call it. I went to the clinic for a one-week intensive visit. By the end of day two, I already felt like a different person. I was told I did, in fact, have a brain injury. I learned about the impacts of trauma and abuse on the brain. I learned how diet, nutrition, exercise, supplementation, and mindset impact the brain and my health. A few months after returning from the clinic, I was back to work full-time as a paramedic. Over the next three years, I visited functional neurologists in Minnesota three more times. In those three years, I devoted my time to understanding the dynamics of domestic violence, child abuse, and trauma. Dr. Erik Reis and Dr. Mike Hennes at The Neural Connection in Minneapolis helped correlate the impact my previous trauma had on me. They guided me to understand the complexities of my brain and body. They encouraged me to create effective strategies to rewire previous habits and beliefs. It was with what I learned from Dr. Reis and Dr. Hennes that I was able to establish my own solid foundation of recovery and healing. They have inspired me to continue the courageous journey and share with others that you can, in fact, triumph over trauma.

Finding Amy on social media and connecting with her story led me to discover life-changing treatments. I often wonder how different my life might have been if the right people had the right information. Understanding how trauma affects our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual wellness was transformative for me. I am committed to sharing my journey publicly. I hope to be an “Amy” for someone else, guiding them towards their own journey of hope and healing.