Those Months when Memories Layer on Top of Themselves

When the storms of life toss you around….

Those months when memories layer on top of themselves

These are the months of life that are challenging.  The months that are pain-filled.  The months that are so complicated in complexity that it takes a long time to sort out the numerous ways your life has been changed.

Impacted.  Redirected.  Cleared.  Cleaned.  Muddied.  Tossed.  Torn.  Reorganized.
Flipped over.  Knocked down.

Yep, these are the months that create pivot points in your life.  Changes happen.  New directions are forced.  Different roads are required.  Old plans come to an end.  Dreams gotta be reinvented.  Goals are adjusted.  And re-written.  And revealed.  Because under the old, the new ideas start to emerge.  New possibilities.  Sorta the same, but still very different.

The only thing that feels constant is the fact that change is happening.  Maybe a change you want?  Or maybe a change you dread?  Maybe a change you need?  Maybe a change you hate.  Or maybe a change that feels all those ways at the same time.  But it’s a change, an adamant change.  A change that is not stopping.

How confusing and irritating is that!

The point being…. these are the months that make a difference.  They aren’t the smooth sailing months.  These are the months full of jagged edges that are pointy, and sharp, and feel full of daggers.  Will you fall off the cliff or find your way?  There are plenty of new pathways…. if you can find them.

Cyclone Alfred

Remember Cyclone Alfred ?   

Cyclone Alfred.  The huge but slow-moving cyclone in Australia, from earlier this month, who inched his way down the eastern Aussie coastline via the Coral Sea, then eventually passed through the Brisbane – Gold Coast – Sunshine Coast areas of Queensland.

The first cyclone in that area in 50 years.

That Alfred.

Cyclone Alfred —  the cyclone that created flooding in many northern Queensland areas, and then, upon reaching southeast Queensland, created heavy coastal rains by March 5th, spreading enormous winds by 7-8-9th  of March, eventually crossing over and hitting land, finally, officially, on the 9th of March.  Creating more winds, more flooding, more destruction, beach erosion, tree/vegetation disasters, and well over a billion dollars of damage…. if not billions of dollars of damage.
 

Guess who travelled across the world from Texas to Queensland to be there, on a remote island in Moreton Bay, just in time for Cyclone Alfred to hit?! 

Yep, 50 years in the making, and I got to be there for that historic event.

I couldn’t believe it.  You gotta be kidding me, right??!!

This was my first cyclone experience, that’s for sure.  And it promised to be a doozy, and it was coming towards me.  Even as late as March 7th, this cyclone was forecasted by the Bureau of Meteorology to be on a path headed directly at me.  Impeccable timing, hey?! 

“Crikey!” as they say in Australia, lol.

My long-awaited, highly cherished month in Australia was interrupted by a cyclone of such force that we had no power for a week, the house-ceilings-windows were leaking all over the place, the giant trees were bending and cracking all around, anxiety was replacing adventure, and my lists of big big time-limited plans were completely halted. I could be in Australia for only a set period of time, and I had to share those few days with a cyclone?!   hmmmph!

Everything everywhere felt wet, wet, wet. 

The air, all fabrics, even the walls of the house. Damp. Even the poor little birds had completely drenched feathers.   Thank goodness my kind neighbor lent me a small camping stove so we could heat hot water for instant coffee. The winds were moving and roaring at full force, the rains just kept on pouring down.  I wasn’t going anywhere, or doing anything.  I was set smack down in one place and staying there.

Sit down, and sit still, Kathy!

Yet, from a different perspective, I got to experience the intense chaotic inner center winds of a cyclone!

I got to see dozens of the local birds take shelter on my verandah, hiding and resting from the relentless winds and rain.

I got to read a book.  By flashlight and candlelight.

Because what else do you do in a cyclone?

Someone said, “It takes a cyclone to slow you down, Kathy.“

The irony of that is awesome, lol.

.

And yet, this cyclone was a perfect metaphor for my month of March 2025.

.

A cyclone of feelings, a whirlwind of old and new crashing, a giant, slow-moving, massive event that was going to have a definite impact.  The worry and the fear — was I going to survive this storm?  I assumed yes, but still.  I was stranded on an island, miles away from the mainland, no bridge to drive over, no ferries available.  What was going to be ruined?  What was going to manage the pressure?  Would that 75-year old house stand firm?  Would some of those massive trees fall in just the wrong direction?

Stay there.  On my island.  Or not?  Not going anywhere else.  Was it okay to be there?   Was this the safest place, or a dangerous place?  The strongest cyclone winds were aimed right in my direction.  Would the cyclone turn again and land elsewhere? 

Was there more danger on the other side of the sea?  The giant waves and the massive floods were going to happen over there on the mainland.   The island would have the massive winds, and all the dangers from those winds, but…. there was safety as well.  I was only about 50 literal steps from the coast, but up on a hill — there would be no flooding for me, unless the house itself got busted up.

I was on a small island protected by a much bigger island.  In a small bay shielded from the raging open seas.

I am so deeply thankful for the strength and tenacity of North Stradbroke Island as it provided protection for all of the smaller areas hiding behind her tree-lined sandy lands.  And Straddie protected the city of Brisbane from having a much worse disaster.  Straddie really is such a treasure!

Sure enough about midnight into the wee hours of Sunday morning, the 9th of March, the eye of Alfred was crossing over North Stradbroke Island, just a hop and a skip from me.  During those hours, that cyclone roared winds louder than I had ever heard in my life.  The noise of the wind was deafening.  The wind had been blowing for days, but those hours of wind were at a completely different level of wind.  It was freaky, a bit scary, definitely loud, and totally in the dark,  It felt even spookier at night because there was no way to see if anything was about to crash through the windows or fall on top of the house.

Fortunately for my little old house, the ravenous cyclone event lasted only a week, and that tough little house was able to withstand the pressure.  Most of the winds blew above me, throwing the tops of the trees back and forth like yo-yo’s.   It rained for days, but no serious damage done.  Whew!  That was one giant storm managed.  This particular month still had other complexities to navigate, of course. 

Oh, and hey!   Why was I there in Australia for Cyclone Alfred anyway?

 

 

How to Move Your Stuff Overseas

Well.  International moves are always a bit more complicated, and my situation is no exception to that rule.

During the early days of the world shutdowns from the Covid pandemic in 2020, I found myself suddenly, unexpectedly, without permission, and certainly without planning, instantaneously handed a forced relocation to Texas.  And yes, it absolutely took a world pandemic to make that happen — I had zero plans to move out of Australia.  Because I was only visiting Texas in 2020, I hadn’t packed my house.  Or emptied the fridge.  I didn’t even pack a full set of luggage.

I arrived in Texas on the 9th of March 2020 with one medium-sized suitcase and one small carry-on, prepared for a 3-week visit.  My flight out of Brisbane was on 9 March 2020.  With all the across-the-world time zone changes, when you leave BNE, you arrive at DFW on the same day.  Still March 9th, ha.   So… the 9th of March has been well engrained in my mind, because…. well, it was a very very long day!

But also.  The world crashed and crumbled to a grinding halt just a few days later.   Australia, in particular, went into serious lock-down.  For years, no international flights were returning to BNE!  Thousands upon thousands of Aussie citizens were having trouble getting back, and I was most certainly at the bottom of that list.  Despite my Australian residence, being American, I was expected to stay right where I was in Texas.

Those long years waiting return to my Queensland home gradually shrank and dwindled away any realistic ability to return.  As time went on, day by day, I was losing momentum and options.  The longer the pandemic controlled the world, the more I was staying in USA.  And building a new life.  How long can life stay waiting, just on hold?  Couch-hopping can last only so long…..  And the storms of life sometimes create and demand change. 

And the starting over began.  Eventually, a new-to-me house, new-to-me stuff, moving forward with DD plans of conferences and retreats, etc etc.  Because life keeps going, no matter what chair you’re sitting in.

And then, five years later…

In March 2025, finally with a little space created in my always-busy schedule, I returned to my little Aussie island home with serious intent to pack-up the house and return all my treasures to Texas officially.   My  dogs are already in Texas, so… the determining factor for which way I was headed had been made.

I had extra suitcases and extra help.  We were gonna get this moving job done!

Most people move their homes via trucks, or vans, using numerous big boxes and teams of movers.   There are many decisions to make, but also, a lot more freedom for how to approach their move from home-to-home.  I chose to use suitcases who came with weight restrictions of 30 kgs (66 pounds) and those very strict limitations of airline regulations. 

I arrived very determined, in February, with a slim, specific timeframe to work on all the packing and cleaning tasks.  What to keep, pack, donate, or trash had a very strict time line.  And yes, always mindful of that very strict weight limit.   

Personally, I am very slow at these kinds of decisions, and that process doesn’t happen easily or fast for me.  Going through years worth of personal items, souvenirs and momentos, especially connected to those years in Australia, was going to be an emotionally complicated process.  These 10 years were very loaded years, packed full of all kinds of memories — both the best of times and the worst of times.  Digging through “my stuff” was like walking a very detailed memory path, packed full of land mines, volcanoes, and explosive eruptions.  Events that I hadn’t thought of for years were going to be triggered up right hard and smacking me in the face.  Memory overload!

An emotional cyclone!

But I planned ahead, and I already had my magic sauce and secret weapon with me.  The key was having a very organized House Mom there to keep me on task! 

And then came 9th of March

How ironic is it that my flight on 9th of March 2020 led to the demanding changes of the world pandemic.  Basically making me homeless, and unable to have a place of my own, left to the graces of those who could / would help me for the next few years.

And my return to Australia, over the 9th of March 2025 having a giant cyclone roaring exactly over my head.  Right as I’m packing up to leave the beloved home I was forced to abandon five years earlier.

Two very significant, somewhat related events happening on the same day.

While I’m sitting there, in the middle of reviewing years of history, already tired, emotional, and worn thin.  An exterior cyclone weather storm happening while I’m feeling an emotional storm in my heart, mind, and soul.   

“Beware the 9th of March” is where my mind went!

It was a whole lot to process at the exact same time.  It’s an ironic example for how time stops and gets layered upon itself.   Moments like these are when I can understand what it’s like to be dissociative and live in more than one time zone at a time.

What are the odds of my not thinking about these painful things on every 9th of March for the next umpteen years?

 

The Makings of PTSD and Dissociative Systems

First — I’m okay.   Don’t let my stories create any worry for you.  I’m telling you these things to make a teaching point.  Trauma can happen at the same times of the month, year after year.  Repeated or layered trauma creates additional complications, for sure.  It feels bigger, and gets more difficult.

For dissociative people with trauma histories, trauma dates often pile up upon each other.   Sometimes, there are anniversaries of traumas, repeated traumas, traumas on the same days, weeks, years, one after another.  The repetition of trauma creates the need for internal systems to built.

Sometimes birthdays become dates of repeated trauma.  Various holidays can become dates of repeated trauma.  Sometimes family events can becomes dates of repeated trauma.  Over and over again.

 

 

The point being… any time a serious emotional, or physical, or sexual, or spiritual trauma is repeated on the same (or similar) date, the layers of complexity build.

Layers of trauma over the same time frame deepens the PTSD felt for those days, creates more internal parts, adds to the dissociative process, and stretches out the healing process.  Layers of trauma create a heavier load for that day, and for dissociative systems, it usually means that more people in your system are impacted.  It typically means that more system splits have happened over specific times and dates. 

Sometimes entire groups of insiders are created for specific dates of time — to contain specific traumas in a group, or to help separate specific incidents from other trauma.

So any time there is repeated trauma, it’s genuinely going to be more sensitive for you.  And for a few more of your insiders.  Maybe for groups of you.

For example, if you have a whole bunch of 3-yr olds, or a lot of insiders that are active over certain weeks of time, or lots of switching happening around your birthday, that’s an indicator that lots of your insiders were split out or involved at those chunks of time.   The more insiders around a specific time or event, the harder that time or event was for you to manage.

My March 9th example — with the combination of a life-changing exit flight in 2020, layered with an emotional months of packing and goodbyes, compounded with the anxiety of a cyclone in 2025 — is enough to make March 9th a significant day in my annual calendar for many years of time.

And these emotional events were life-changing, yes.  Not fully traumatic, but certainly impactful for me. Imagine what it would be like if there were layers of abuse, plus physical pain, plus injuries, plus emotional pain, plus ongoing conflict, plus intensified trauma?

The more that happens, repeatedly at the same time, the tougher it becomes.

You can still find that healing space… just give yourself a little more time to get there.  One layer at a time.

 

I wish you the very best in your layered memory journey!

Warmly,

Kathy

 

Copyright © 2008-2026 Kathy Broady and Discussing Dissociation