Nervousness VS Fear - My First Attempts at Heavy Combat, part 1

 My first attempt at fighting in armor went just as I expected it to: the experience left me teetering on the fence about whether I wanted to continue this new activity or not.

On the one hand, I had a good time. On the other hand, the experience was unfamiliar and therefore scary.

~~~~~~~~~~~

My best friend and I finished the fixes on the armor I received, and had finished a sword and shield for me. I was very excited for the work to be done, and surprisingly, I was HYPED to start my first lesson.

The day before this event, I went to a local fighting practice and was able to talk to another good friend of mine - one who has been a Heavy Fighter, but has come back from an extended break from the activity. I talked with him about my goals, and showed him the one piece I was still working on, and he was very supportive and complimentary. He made it known he was interested in crossing swords with me when I was ready, and was happy to show me anything I wanted to learn.

And then he gave me a warning that I will never forget.

He wanted to confirm my intentions for fighting, that I was just trying the sport, as opposed to looking to pursue a path in Chivalry. I couldn't help but say that I didn't know at that point - I was having so much fun putting the kit together, and wearing the suit, and I was so intrigued by my interest, that I ultimately stated to my friend that I was unsure; I was having so much fun, I was willing to explore whether I went further or not.

My friend took this in, and we kept talking in general. But later, just before he left, he told me this: I can guarantee that people will be willing to go at my pace if I am just here to fight for the experience. But as soon as I let people know that Chivalry is my goal, people and fighting in particular, will be different.

I could feel how serious he was being - I realized I could end up liking fighting when people take it easy on me, but things could very easily turn not fun if I use that expectation to propel me further down the path of Chivalry. I took his words with me when I met my best friend on the field the next day, tempering my excitement with the reality of where I was currently at.

~~~~~~~~~~~

My best friend had taught me the simple flat snap to the head about a week and a half removed from this post, on a Thursday afternoon. We didn't armor up at that time, we decided to take things slow, so I just had a sword, and he had rattan for me to hit. It felt awkward - but I did my best to replicate the shot as directed. I don't have much upper arm strength, this is something I need to develop, but I did manage to land a few good flat snaps in that first training moment.

The next day, a Friday, we suited up, and I held my shield and sword in armor. I felt awesome, powerful, and ready.

My best friend also suited up - it had been a few years since he had armored up, so this was a good time for both of us to ease into things. I trusted that he would listen to me and take things slow, otherwise I would have asked someone else to help me with this assignment.

We squared up, and I was instructed to hit my friend. I wasn't very good at it, but I did it! My arm was uncertain, but things got easier hit after hit. My highlight was faking my friend out before landing a solid flat-snap to his head! I couldn't help but smile eagerly! 😄

And then it was his turn to hit me.

He was not hitting fast or hard, and I was allowed to try to block - I was grateful for that. Because those first few hits were - how do I describe it - an experience?

~~~~~~~~~~~

I had a few predictions for how this experience was going to go: Either I would shrink from the blows and run screaming, or I would take a few hits, but not enjoy it. The outlier prediction was that I would get hit, and it wouldn't bother me at ALL. And between the predictions I imagined, I ended up having a middle experience: I took the hits, albeit, I did shut my eyes before impact. It was scary - But I realized the shots had not been as bad as my mind had predicted they would be.

And that realization had me teetering.

~~~~~~~~~~~

My friend had wanted that session to keep going so we could take turns hitting each other - After getting hit by my friend, I felt I had some mental work to do, so we stopped. My best friend and I, along with my husband who had witnessed it, went to get milkshakes afterwards, a small celebration snack after such a long-awaited event. And then I was invited to help him with some yard work and food prep for jam making.

I was grateful I didn't go home right away, because the last thing I wanted to do was get lost in my thoughts. There were equal parts "That was uncomfortable and scary" and "This was not a bad experience and I need more exposure before I make a permanent decision". The physical task of yard work and assisting my friend with fruit prep allowed me time to process all the mental noise.

After some time with my friend, I realized one of the reasons the experience had been not so great was because my helmet was too tight - we ripped out some padding, and I adjusted a padded coif I was wearing to allow my head to be more comfortable. I preferred a padded coif to deaden the noise of impact, because I have so many metal pieces I am wearing. Once we completed these fixes and I wore the helmet and coif again, I found the helmet to sit snuggly, but comfortably. A much needed improvement.

I also talked to my friend about how we should trade blows - I very much enjoyed hitting him, but in hitting him, I need to understand that there's a trade-off: If I can hit other people, other people can hit me too. And vice versa. He agreed that it would be good to see blows be traded, and we decided to armor up again the next week.

And then I went home. And I got to work addressing my internal dialogue.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I allowed myself a day to sort of forget about the experience. But then when I went to church on Sunday, I pushed myself to process these thoughts and emotions during Sacrament meeting.

I tried to fully explore both the positive and negative emotions that swirled inside; eventually, I considered it strange that I was torn. I truly had believed that I would be one way or the other, not both.

I do better at processing my thoughts when I write them down, so I took out my phone, opened the notes app, and wrote the following:

"You are NOT helpless in armor" - I felt this was a powerful reminder to separate past physical encounters with my sister.

"This experience is NOT that baseball/softball incident" - I can't remember if I was the victim, or if the victim was someone else, but I had been present at a church sponsored baseball/softball game where someone (either me or someone else, I don't know) got hit pretty hard by a stray ball. I don't want to explore this memory further - but it felt important for me to reassure myself that there was a difference between that singular event, and getting hit while wearing armor; that they are two separate events.

"Surprise is no longer an issue: you have been hit and it was not as big a deal as you had imagined..." - Granted, I had not been hit at full strength, but this was a comforting thought. I HATE surprises, and the more information I take in, the less afraid of something I become.

"...Therefore: Your trauma brain is more scared than your healing mind is." This was a ground-breaking discovery for me: that I had two different mindsets contesting for my autonomy. On the one hand, there was a very old, very unhealthy mindset that wanted to protect, but made me feel miserable doing so. On the other hand, there was a happier, albeit less experienced mindset that wanted freedom and expression to show me a different life.

I was then reminded of something I started doing a few weeks prior to this event: exercising forgiveness by letting issues go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Recently in Sunday School, we had a lesson about Forgiveness. During class, I took mental stock of where I was in my journey of Forgiveness. At first, I thought I was doing pretty well; I was forgiving myself of all my past mistakes and trauma-generated behavior. My mom at one point this year said some terrible things about me to my spouse, and I took that in stride the best I could - I didn't hate hardly anyone in my life. But I realized pretty quickly that I was not forgiving as fully as I should.

I realized I still held onto a lot of anger and resentment in the last two places where I worked, that fired me. They were both small companies that fostered a family work culture, yet they failed to support me as an employee. And then they discarded me. It felt WAY too similar to what I had grown up with in my own family. I realized I had been triggered by those experiences - and it was keeping me back from moving on with my life.

As I sat in that Sunday School room, I intentionally practiced forgiving these occurrences, and then mentally dropping them. It required effort - how my trauma brain works, is that it replays painful memories in excruciating detail, in order to reinforce that those circumstances or actions should not happen again. This is how it "protects me". Sad, huh?

But I hoped that in mentally dropping the issues - processing them simply, and immediately putting them from my mind - I would find peace. And so I practiced. And I was pleased to see that the fear and hurt was replaced by peace, as soon as I removed myself from my pain.

So after a few weeks of doing this, I wrote the next line in my mental processing of my first time in armor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Let your trauma brain go. Forgive and let go."

The same moment I wrote this and internalized it, the trauma brain was silent.

For the first time in my life - or at least, the first time since I was a child - my mind was still.

A light and peace filled my mind like at no other time I had ever felt. I felt like one of those children with absolutely no fear or mindfulness of social reprimand - like I could literally do anything, and not give a damn about what anyone else would say. Because my own personal bully was absent. I felt a great swelling of happiness rise in my heart, and I was hopeful that I would never be bothered by my own chains again.

I also took note of how I was sore from practice, and yet still felt enabled. Usually, physical activity for me in general is painful - with this new development, I now seriously believe my trauma brain was making any physical exertion, no matter how intense or long it was, scary for me, so I wouldn't do it. How interesting a discovery that even when I had exerted myself to the point of soreness, I still felt capable and driven to push myself forward.

A few minutes passed in this bliss, but then I had a fearful thought enter my mind, and this blissful feeling became somewhat punctured. I felt sad that the full feelings I had earlier had been diminished, but I did the mental work to combat any further fearful thoughts from entering my mind. My swelled happiness felt like it had been partially deflated, but I recognized that it was not wholly destroyed. I did what I felt was needed to address this, by talking to my husband, reflecting on it, and then forgiving myself for slipping. And I maintained the hope that I was more powerful than my trauma - I decided that even if I still felt nervous about getting hit, I was allowed to feel nervous, so long as it was not rooted in anxiety. And feeling I was more powerful than my trauma made me feel that as a result, I was powerful enough to strap on armor again if I so wanted to.

And I did, in fact, want to. ⚔

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for following my SCA fighting journey with me - I am newly returned from a weekend event, and am still tired following my return from it. I will continue this journey with the second half of my recent steps in a day or so.

Stay tuned!

XOXOX