Finding Peace Through Crafting: A Journey with PTSD and Insomnia

Embracing Mindful Creativity

It has been more than a week since I have really slept. I know it is because of my PTSD. My insomnia is not just restlessness. Sleep used to be a comfort for me. I would sink into my bed and feel the world and its worries drift away. In those moments, sleep felt gentle, like a warm blanket wrapping around me, offering peace when everything else felt uncertain. Now, that peace is gone. Instead, sleep feels far away, just out of reach; it is like something being kept from me, withheld for reasons I do not understand. Losing that comfort leaves me feeling exposed, as if I cannot find safety anywhere, not even in the privacy of my own bed. This happens to me often. I do not know when my PTSD started exactly, but my first traumatic incident happened when I was two years old, so I have a million and one unknown triggers.

A woman sits on her bed, hands on her head, looking stressed.

The Impact of PTSD on Daily Life

Living with PTSD brings on sudden side effects. You never know which one will show itself today. Even when you can fall asleep, that doesn't mean you will get the quality of sleep you need. With less sleep, my brain is barely working. I find myself reading and rereading anything from a recipe to a legal document. I'm confused by it all. Still, when my mind feels this foggy, I try to remind myself to be patient. I allow myself to move slowly and give myself grace, even if that means making mistakes or needing to pause. I know that showing patience with myself is an act of kindness I can offer, even when everything feels hard.

A Moment of Release

I had a quick outburst the other day. When I realized I was suddenly angry, I went outside to breathe and try to calm down. Some tears showed up, and I let them flow to release as much of the emotions that had suddenly hit me as possible. When I was able to talk to my children calmly, I returned inside, told them what I needed to have happen as tears continued to flow, and then went upstairs to my quiet place. There, I cried. Uncontrollably cried; it was a good release. After that, I put on the comfiest clothes I could think of and lay down in my bed. There, some tears still flowed, but the crying was over. My husband brought me dinner, and I fell asleep shortly after. The emotional outburst had apparently worn me out. Still, I woke up feeling unrested.

Recognizing Growth

A few years ago, I would have had a longer outburst, not realizing I had been triggered. Thankfully, today I am able to recognize it and stop it from affecting others. Even though quality sleep still eludes me, I can see how much I have grown. I am more self-aware and better at catching myself before my emotions spill over onto those around me. It feels good to realize that I am not the same person I was before. It reminds me that healing is not always about big victories, but sometimes about small steps and the ways I respond differently now. That reminder gives me hope, even on tired days.

Crafting as a Form of Therapy

In my journey, I have discovered that engaging in mindful hobbies, like crochet, can be a soothing balm for my restless mind. The repetitive motions of crafting allow me to focus on the present moment. Each stitch becomes a small act of self-care. I find joy in creating something beautiful, even when my thoughts are chaotic. It’s in these moments that I can breathe a little easier.

Crafting offers me a sense of control. When the world feels overwhelming, I can choose my yarn, my colors, and my patterns. This simple act of creation becomes a refuge. It reminds me that I can still find beauty and peace, even amidst the storms of my mind.

The Journey of Healing

If you’re reading this and struggling with PTSD and insomnia, I want you to know you’re not alone. Some nights will be harder than others, and progress can feel painfully slow. But every bit of self-awareness, every moment you choose patience and kindness for yourself, matters. Healing isn’t linear, and rest may come and go, but both are possible. I am learning to accept the hard nights and to celebrate the little wins when they come. Here’s to finding peace—one night, one breath, and one small victory at a time.

In this journey, embracing creativity has been a lifeline. I encourage you to explore your own creative outlets. Whether it’s crochet, painting, or any other craft, allow yourself the space to create. You might find that it brings you the comfort and calm you seek. Remember, every stitch, every brushstroke, and every moment spent creating is a step towards healing.

Let’s embrace this journey together, finding solace in our crafts and in each other.