June is PTSD Awareness Month and as someone diagnosed with PTSD after an accident over four years ago, I know how crucial a strong support network is. I’ve been fortunate. My husband has stood by me, and my psychologist was exactly who I needed at the time. But I also know that not every survivor has this kind of support. And even when we do, there are often words left unsaid. As part of my PTSD: My Story Project, I’ve gathered words from trauma survivors that they wish they could relay to the people who’ve walked beside them. Loved ones, friends, medical professionals, paid caregivers — these messages are for you.
Read also ‘What Trauma Survivors Want You to Know About PTSD‘
Heartfelt messages for loved ones and caregivers from PTSD survivors
- Messages to loved ones and caregivers – by Caitlin Lagnese @ReelChat
Navigating the challenges of PTSD is a complex journey, but having a strong support system can significantly impact your healing process—potentially even saving your life. My name is Caitlin, and I am a blogger focused on women’s mental health and wellness. I frequently share insights about PTSD on my blog, as it’s a part of my life that I will likely confront for years to come. After experiencing a traumatic sexual assault in college, I struggled in silence for seven years before seeking help. Although I often yearned to share my truth with my husband and family, I found myself unable to do so—I simply wasn’t ready at that time.
I eventually reached a breaking point and embarked on a comprehensive therapy journey that, in many ways, saved my life. I was incredibly fortunate to have a strong support system from the very beginning, with my husband as my primary source of strength. His approach to my situation, filled with love and understanding, is precisely what I would advise anyone supporting someone with PTSD: don’t walk ahead or behind—walk beside them.
Seeking help was challenging for me because I feared burdening others with my struggles. I felt overwhelmed by the idea of exposing my mental health issues, believing they were too heavy for anyone else to bear. What I didn’t realize was that by hiding my pain, I was not only hurting myself but also affecting my family. I found it difficult to be the wife, mother, or friend I wanted to be. Rather than being a pillar of strength for others, I felt as though I was dragging everyone down with me.
In those moments, my husband’s hand in mine and his assurance that everything would be alright provided the comfort I desperately needed. Instead of responding with judgment or frustration, he approached me with hope and love. He frequently expressed how proud he was of me as I navigated EMDR therapy, and he would check in after my psychiatrist appointments, always ready to listen if I wanted to share. He never once made me feel irrational or inadequate.
For those supporting a loved one through the challenging journey of PTSD, my most important piece of advice is to walk alongside them with kindness, empathy, and grace. This approach made a tremendous difference in my life. While I will always carry PTSD with me, it has become much more manageable, and I have discovered a sense of peace and forgiveness regarding my experiences.
- Messages to loved ones and caregivers – Amber J. Parker @amberjparker
As a trauma survivor and also a caregiver of trauma, I have been afforded a unique perspective of caring for another and caring for myself.
As a caregiver, please know your role is incredibly valuable. You may have never thought of yourself as a caregiver before now. It takes time to accept the identity of caregiver, even if you’ve been caring for a loved one’s mental health condition for quite a while.
As you care for your loved one, take time to care for yourself. The responsibility and weight of caregiving is called caregiver burden. It encompasses tangible tasks and also the emotional weight of caregiving. If you don’t take time for rest and to care for yourself, you can enter into burnout—where you have nothing left to give and your capacity is depleted. You don’t want to get to that place. You need care and your loved one does too. It is not selfish to care for yourself while you care for your loved one—it is vital for health and wellbeing.
- Messages to loved ones and caregivers – by Catherine Hannah @catherinehannahpoetry
To those who walked beside me on the other side of the world
I want to say that I see you. I want to tell you that I am so glad that you’re beside me -still- even if there are oceans and time zones between us. Should I wake in the murkiest depths of the night, just knowing that you are only a dial tone and a satellite away, pleased that I disturbed your lunch; that is what fuels the flame of one more step. I want you to know that as I drifted in and out, pinioned to a hospital bed, the nurse checking my vitals might as well have been on a different planet; even though she held my heartbeat in her hands.
Do I sometimes ache for one of your hugs; to touch your shoulder through the gratitude of the screen? Of course, I do. But trauma is not a tangible phenomenon and neither is its management. I want to tell you that each time a memory jumps out from behind a stationary car on a side road, you are there in the door handle my hand finds first. Each time, there is a slightly longer pause between the scare and the scream and that pause is you.
I want you to know how important it is that even though I can’t explain how I feel- you are there anyway, and every time you take my word for it.
I want to say thank you.
- Messages to loved ones and caregivers – by Dani Rae Maxwell @butterfliesandtulips
What I’d like caregivers to know:
If I could speak to the hearts of those who walk with someone healing from trauma, I’d say this: your quiet presence matters more than you know. You don’t need perfect words or the right solutions—just be consistent, be gentle, and above all, be patient.
The days when we seem distant or shut down aren’t about you; they’re just part of the storm we’re learning to survive.
Offer safety without pressure, love without expectation, and grace in the moments when healing feels slow. You are a lighthouse in our darkness, even if we forget how to say thank you. Just knowing someone is there, truly there, is one of the greatest gifts you can give.
My husband used to pause his day just so that I could take a shower. He sat on the other side of the curtain so I wouldn’t feel alone or afraid – he didn’t rush me, didn’t make me feel broken. He just stayed, and over time, that gave me the strength to do it myself.
Caregiving doesn’t always look like grand gestures; sometimes it’s simply showing up over and over again, in the smallest ways, until safety becomes real again.
Because Jesus advanced my healing journey, I can now shower on my own—and James is still cheering me on from a distance! I know I am never alone!
- Messages to loved ones and caregivers – by Wanda Lopez @herstoryinasmile
The Light That Guides Us Through PTSD
PTSD is complex, often misunderstood, and can leave more unanswered questions than clear explanations. As someone who has experienced the depths of this journey, I want my loved ones—my unwavering supporters—to know how deeply grateful I am for them. Their kindness, their uplifting presence, their lack of judgment, and most importantly, their willingness to stand beside me without needing to understand the “why” in order to offer love.
During my darkest moments, when I felt unlovable, when the weight of trauma overshadowed everything, they reminded me of my light—even when I couldn’t see it myself. What they may not have realized was that it was their light that helped reignite mine. PTSD is not just a battle of the mind—it can feel like an isolating void, where hope seems distant and believing in oneself feels impossible. But through love and support, that impossible, becomes possible. Without the patience and care of those who have stood with me, my journey of healing and growth would have been even more hindered.
So to those who walk alongside someone navigating PTSD, know this: your presence matters. You don’t have to understand every medical nuance or have all the answers. Just being there, shining your light when someone can’t see their own, can make all the difference.
- Messages to loved ones and caregivers – by Katelyn Friesen @findingpeaceingodsprovidence
My words are geared more towards my medical caregivers and counselors who care for me, rather than my family who are my actual caregivers. I want them to know that trauma has lasting effects not only on my mind and mental health but also on my body and my immune system.
Trauma is a wound. Sometimes visible, often invisible. I carry this wound with me everywhere, whether you see it on me or not. I am an embodied individual of emotional, physical, and spiritual health. One affects the other. They are ALL interconnected. Just because an illness arises or becomes worse because of trauma doesn’t mean I’m unworthy of treatment for my physical health.
Please listen and believe me when I say I hurt. Counseling techniques help the emotional toll trauma has brought me but don’t always diminish the physical pain chronic illness has caused due to the stress trauma did to my immune system. Stop treating one part of me or the other and start treating me as a whole. Acknowledge my experience and not shush me into a puddle of more loneliness and drowning in more questions than answers. My wound and the pain it causes me are real. It just has many faucets and through each faucet of my pain, God is still good.
- Messages to loved ones and caregivers – by Nicole Dake @Millennial Mom
I want to tell my loved ones that, no matter how it looks from the outside, I am trying really hard to heal. To move forward from the pain and not to be triggered so easily. It takes up about half my spoons for the day just to get out of bed on the bad days, which leaves me with very little energy for anything else. I’m not trying to be lazy, but sometimes just putting one foot in front of the others feels like I am wading through knee-deep molasses. My mind wants me to move forward, but my body isn’t responding.
PTSD doesn’t just damage neural pathways, it damages my entire nervous system. I have pain and panic hardwired into every cell of my body now. It can take me days or weeks to feel safe in my body again even after an incident that seems trivial to you. I really am trying. Please be patient with me. When you are, and when you’re kind and gentle, it means the world.
- Messages to loved ones and caregivers – by Dawne McKay @Crash Support Network
A Note to Our Loved Ones and Caregivers
Surviving a motor vehicle crash changed everything. It was sudden, frightening, and life-altering in ways we are still trying to understand. But through the shock, the pain, and the long process of recovery, one thing has remained steady—you.
Thank you for being there when we were at our most vulnerable. For sitting with us in silence, for listening when we needed to speak, and for understanding when we didn’t have the words. Your presence, your patience, and your care have helped us hold on to hope when everything felt broken. As we navigate the ups and downs of recovering from PTSD after the motor vehicle crash, your presence means more than we can express. We know this journey hasn’t been easy for any of us. There are days when we seem distant, overwhelmed, damaged, or indifferent. That’s because we are. The trauma altered something inside us, and we’re still figuring out how to live with that change. But your steady support helps us find moments of safety, trust, and hope again.
Healing from trauma is slow, messy, and nonlinear. However, your belief in us and your support make it possible to keep moving forward. Even when we’re struggling, we see your efforts and we are so grateful. Our caregivers and loved ones are a vital part of our recovery. Your encouragement, your willingness to listen, and your quiet presence all give us strength when we need it most.
Read also ‘Powerful Self Care Tips for PTSD From Trauma Survivors‘
My message to those who walk alongside us
I’m deeply grateful to all the PTSD survivors who shared their messages in this post. It is addressed to the loved ones and caregivers who’ve walked alongside them. I don’t often use the word caregiver — I tend to say those who stay, or those who walk alongside us. Support comes in many forms. Whether you are a loved one or a caregiver, you matter and you’re part of our healing. And I want to add a few words of my own.
Some time ago, I wrote a letter to my husband to thank him. Hubby, I don’t say this enough, but I truly appreciate you. I know it hasn’t always been easy. Some days are harder than others. I may snap, blame, or shut down. Please know, it’s not about you. It’s often a trigger, a wound I haven’t yet healed, or simply my nervous system in survival mode.
Thank you
- for your patience, your gentleness, your quiet presence
- for sleepless nights
- for learning my triggers
- for trying again and again
- for making me laugh
- for holding hope when I couldn’t
To those who walk alongside us — thank you. To those who hold space, who keep showing up, who stay when others have walked away — thank you. Your support, your encouragement, your presence is felt — it matters and it means more than you will ever know. You have helped make the unbearable a little more manageable.
I also want to say that you matter, too. You are allowed to rest. To set boundaries. To say, “I can’t right now.” That’s not selfish — it’s essential. Your needs are valid. Losing yourself in our pain doesn’t help either of us. Please take care of yourself.
Read also ‘How to Support Someone With PTSD‘
To the medical caregivers — your impact is real.
You don’t need to be a trauma expert to make a difference. Sometimes it’s the smallest things — a pause, a softer tone, a willingness to listen and believe — that create the most safety. And safety is what trauma survivors need most.
Trauma doesn’t always show up in ways that can be scanned, measured, or explained. PTSD doesn’t only shape how we think. It shapes how we feel, how we function, and how we experience medical care.
PTSD isn’t just in our minds — it lives in our bodies:
- in our nervous system
- in our sleep
- in our digestion
- in our breath
- in our immune responses
- in our skin
Yet too often, we’re met with confusion, dismissal, or silence when we share this. We’re not asking for perfection. We’re just asking to be believed. When you trust us — even when it “doesn’t make sense” — you help us learn to trust again, not just in the world, but in ourselves.
So thank you. For the care you offer. For the care you are still learning how to give. And for believing us, even when our pain isn’t visible.
There is no perfect caregiver. PTSD can complicate relationships, routines, and roles. But your presence, your patience, and your effort don’t go unnoticed. If you’re showing up, learning, and trying, that’s more than enough. Caregiving isn’t about fixing someone. It’s about walking with them — sometimes in silence, sometimes through chaos, always with love.
Read also ‘What is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? My Experience‘
From all of us who’ve lived with trauma: thank you.
Thank you and till the next blog post,
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This is such a powerful and meaningful project. Thank you for giving a voice to survivors and highlighting the importance of support networks. These messages will no doubt help others feel seen and understood — and remind supporters how much their presence truly matters.
Thank you, Katy, for giving so many trauma survivors a platform to share their voices. I feel so much hope and love from following your blog and communications. I appreciate the opportunity to contribute to this article. Thank you again ~ Dani Maxwell