With my PTSD, I really struggle to focus on things. As such, I was feeling really proud of the progress that I made on a puzzle that I got earlier this year. It's not crazy elaborate and it's not thousands of pieces. It's a Charlie Brown winter scene.
But it's still plenty difficult for me.
I put the edges together a few weeks ago and separated pieces out into a few little bowls. I've worked on it a teensy bit here and there, but finally sat down and worked on it for about an hour last night. I got all of the characters put fully together. I had a bunch of pieces grouped together on the table in approximately the spots that they would go. I fixed a bit of the edge that had been pulled apart by my toddler at some point. There is a single edge piece missing. Just ignoring it for now and hoping that it shows up at some point.
I was really, really proud of my progress. It wouldn't be a big deal for many, but it was for me.
And then tonight I heard my dad say something to my son about the puzzle and I rushed over to find this:
Pieces on the floor. Pieces on the chair. All of my cute little characters torn apart and the pieces all mixed together. My carefully organized bowls and sections on the table have all been mixed together.
I felt less mad than just... defeated.
I sat my son down and told him that I had worked very hard on it and reminded him that we have all been telling him not to touch the puzzle. He seemed fully unconcerned. He did help me pick some pieces, but that's about it.
He knows that he wasn't supposed to do what he did, but he doesn't really understand what makes it so bad, so I'm not too mad at him. But I am frustrated. And as I looked at the ruined puzzle, I had this thought;
This is what life feels like a lot of the time.
I feel like puzzle analogies for life are pretty well known. Something about how piece by piece, things come together. Something about not being able to see the bigger picture. Etc.
I don't know that I've ever heard an analogy about a puzzle being fully destroyed though.
So here's mine:
If you've been following my blog for a while, you know that I was in a pretty good place in life after years of struggle when my life fell apart.
I was piecing the puzzle together. For a long time, nothing seemed to be coming together. There were a couple of connected pieces here, a few there, but no more than maybe 5 were put together in any one section. And then things started to come together. I started being able to see the picture. There seemed to be more and more sections with 10+ pieces connected.
And then trauma.
That was a moment when a toddler came along and busted it all apart.
I think that my healing journey has very much felt like this too. I've worked hard to piece things back together after trauma. There are sections that have never been fully restored. Many with missing pieces. But there are also sections that I didn't have together before that I have since brought together.
But occasionally something happens that feels like a toddlernado.
This time of the year is really hard for me. I had a major trigger day last week and am still struggling on and off now. It feels a bit like some of the sections of the puzzle that I have put back together are being slowly taken apart.
There was a toddlernado when I restarted therapy a few years ago. Ripping open wounds that I thought that healed but hadn't. It felt like progress was lost before any was gained.
There was a toddlernado when I became pregnant with my son. Pregnant brain mixed with PTSD brain was horrendous and a lot of trigger anxiety came back with the rush of hormones.
I guess what I'm saying is that life isn't always just slowly piecing a puzzle together. Sometimes it's starting the puzzle over. Sometimes it's realizing that the picture that you're putting together is a little bit different than you thought. Sometimes it's hoping that that missing piece wasn't eaten by the dog and will still show up at some point.
It can feel tempting to just scrap the puzzle; toss it all back in the box.
But I'm not going to. I'm taking a break for now, but I'm going to do it all again. Sort through the pieces again. Redo the border. Put characters back together.
And I do have an advantage this time. I've done a lot of it once before, so I have a better idea now of how things look and go together. I was a little bit confused when I was working on it yesterday because the colors look pretty different on the actual puzzle than they do on the box, so I wasn't always sure what part of the puzzle certain pieces went to. Now I do.
So yeah, I'm pretty much starting from scratch. But I know a little bit more now.
Every time there is a toddlernado in my healing, I at least still have the knowledge that I've gained through this messy process. And I know that progress can be made because it has been in the past.
Honestly, I don't think that I'm going to finish the puzzle of my life during THIS life. I think that there is going to be a lot of starting over. There are going to be more missing pieces and more destroyed sections.
By the end of this life, I think that it will (hopefully!) be pretty well together. You'll be able to see the picture. I have faith that it will be beautiful. And I have faith that when I am back with my Heavenly Parents and Jesus Christ, They will fill in the missing pieces and we can superglue the puzzle together.
So tonight I'm frustrated. Tonight I'm feeling a bit sad about my silly puzzle. About having to start over. About all of my hard work being indecipherable.
But I know that it will be okay. I know that I can always start over.
And I know that my Charlie Brown winter scene will be just as nice when it's finished this time as it would have been last time.
Because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, there are no trials, sins, or other upsets in life that can make it impossible to put things back together.
So I will always choose to start over. Piece by piece.
And you know what? The closer I look at the destruction, the more I see that maybe it isn't as bad as I feared after all.
