When the Fire Alarm Isn’t the Only Thing Triggering: Living with Invisible Injuries

Most days, I keep things cheeky and sarcastic, because that’s how I’ve always coped. But today’s post? It’s different. It’s vulnerable. And I think it’s important I share it—not just for me, but for anyone quietly carrying pain the world doesn’t see.

What People See

If you know me in real life, you might notice the brace. You might see that I’m not using my hand like I used to. Maybe you’ve heard that I was injured while teaching. But what you don’t see—the part that’s wrecking me most days—is what’s going on inside.

Behind the visible injury is a trifecta of diagnoses:

Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS)
Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD)
Severe Anxiety

They’re as real as the brace I wear, but much harder to explain.

When a School Gym Feels Like a War Zone

A few months ago, I went to my niece’s Veterans Day performance at her school. I didn’t think much of it—just a sweet event for our favorite fourth grader. But the second I walked into the gym, I was hit with a full-blown panic attack.

No warning. No slow build. Just BOOM—heart racing, hands shaking, brain on fire.

And today? Her promotion ceremony. I had prepared for it all week. Took my anxiety medication, prayed, had pep talks from friends, did the breathing exercises. And still—just pulling into the parking lot made me feel like I was going to throw up. The fight-or-flight kicked in hard. I felt dread in my bones.

This isn’t about being “dramatic.” It’s about being triggered in the truest sense. And it’s not isolated to school events. I’ve started getting anxiety just driving near my old school. My stomach turns. My hands shake. My brain panics. I’ve even vomited from the sheer intensity of it.

What Trauma Looks Like (When You’re Still Trying to Look “Fine”)

I never used to be this person. I used to thrive in classrooms. I used to be the helper, the doer, the “got it handled” kind of person. Now, I’m someone navigating a life that looks completely different—one that requires daily bravery just to leave the house.

And if I’m being honest? That hurts in ways I don’t always know how to put into words.

But today, I’m trying. Because I know I’m not the only one.

If You’re Struggling Too… You’re Not Alone

This post isn’t about looking for sympathy—it’s about telling the truth. Because somewhere out there, someone else is walking around with invisible injuries. Someone else is smiling through a panic attack. Someone else is grieving the version of themselves they can’t be anymore.

If that’s you, I see you.
If that’s you, I am you.

If that’s you, I SEE YOU

If that’s you, I AM YOU

You are doing more than enough just by showing up. That counts. That matters.

Let’s Be Brave Together

If you’re someone navigating trauma, chronic pain, anxiety—or all of the above—drop a comment or send me a message. You don’t have to tell your whole story (unless you want to), but just say “I feel this,” and I’ll know.

And if you’ve got someone in your life who’s quietly going through it… check on them. Listen. Believe them—even when you can’t see what’s hurting.

Healing isn’t linear, and some days are just plain hard.
But I’m still here. And so are you.

And that’s something.

Some days are much harder than others and if you’re like me you don’t want to complain to your friends all the time; even though they’re super supportive and listen without judgement every time. Just know I am here and I’d love to be a sounding board for you. Listening without judgement and I bring the added benefit of knowing what it’s like to live with chronic pain.