Art – using the tools to get through it

Today came in sideways. The morning felt shaky, but I was grinding through it — mindfulness, breathing, the whole routine. It wasn’t perfect, but it was working.  I was determined not to let the morning ruin my day.

Then, on the drive home, a motorcycle ripped past me doing well over a hundred. My windows down. Sudden roar. And in an instant I wasn’t on the road anymore. I was back on deployment, hearing the incoming whine of a rocket. My heart blew up in my chest, sweat kicked in, and my body reacted before I even knew what was happening — swerving, scanning, using the tools I have relied on to keep me alive, waiting for the vehicles to fall into that defensive pattern your brain never forgets.  It was very disorienting.

Hours. It took hours to settle. And even though I know the therapy helps… even though I know the meds help… moments like that remind me that some things don’t magically vanish. They just get quieter until something unexpected hits the switch.

When I finally made it home, all I wanted was to shut down and disappear into a dark room by myself. But that’s the part of me I’m trying not to feed anymore. So instead, I grabbed my iPad. No plan. No idea what to draw. Just… use the tools I now have, something to bring me back.

What came out was this horned owl. I’m not even sure why. Maybe because owls see in the dark. Maybe because they stay calm, still, and focused when everything around them is moving. Or maybe because sometimes your hands know what you need before your head does.

Either way, it helped. It gave me a way back into the present. And if you’ve ever had one of those days where your mind drags you somewhere you fought like hell to leave behind… you’re not alone.

If you’ve walked through moments like this and want something meaningful created around your own experiences — and the strength it takes to keep going — I’d be honored to work with you.

You don’t have to carry it alone.  Honor and Ink™ is built for stories like yours.