Every time I get a whiff of Play Dough, it takes me right back to first grade. Our teacher would let us have free
art time every Wednesday morning and we could pick something from the craft supply basket to make our
masterpiece. I always went for the Play Dough because mom wouldn’t let us have any at home. I think it had
something with 70’s green shag carpet and scissors, lol.
Play Dough aside, psychologists believe the sense of smell is more closely linked with memory than any other
sense. Many common smells evoke warm, heartfelt memories for me such as baking cookies, freshly cut hay
and baby lotion. Of course, there are smells, sights and sounds that can absolutely wreck my day.
Take mold, for instance. Please. Take it as far away from me as possible. In 2017, I was assaulted in my home,
abducted and held in a horse trailer where my captive had been living for an estimated six months. It smelled
of a stale, musty, moldy odor. Last week, it was raining when I arrived in the underground parking garage for
work. I got in the parking garage elevator and, you guessed it, the smell of mold was in the air. Once the door
shut, the ride one floor up to street level seemed like an eternity. My heart was racing, I couldn’t catch my
breath and I practically fell out of the elevator when the doors opened. Mental note to self-take the stairs next
time no matter how high my heels are.
I wish the physical reaction had ended when the doors opened, but it didn’t. I was suddenly hyper-vigilant,
keenly aware of other people on the street and hated the fact my umbrella was obstructing my view. Rather
than retreating to my car via the stairs and hiding the rest of the day at home in my jammies, I stood at the
crosswalk and talked myself into taking a deep breath and making a run for the building. Once inside the
secure facility, I relaxed a little, but that smell lingered. I went to the kitchen where I knew coworkers would
be making coffee and, again, took a deep breath. Nope, didn’t work. But then, on my way to my desk, I passed
by a coworker drinking hot, spiced tea and immediately felt differently. The aroma of apple and cinnamon
took my mindset from a place of captivity to the safety of my home at the holidays. By the time I was back to
my desk, I felt relaxed and ready to face the day. Psalm 46:10 reminds me to “Be still, and know that I am
God.” Today, I keep an apple spiced candle on my desk. You see, I found what temporarily works for me. It is
as simple as remembering to be still and take a deep breath.
What triggers PTSD for you or someone you love? Maybe it is a smell or a sound, or both. If you can identify a
specific anxiety trigger, you may be able to find a healthy coping tool. Better yet, go to your local candle or
hand lotion outlet and start sniffing until you can find a good memory. I would never minimize PTSD by
suggesting a votive or tube of hand lotion can make your anxiety disappear. I only know what helps me get
through unexpected reminders of a painful incident. If you find a scent that helps you, keep it handy-your car,
purse, desk, bedside, etc. The next time you start to feel anxious, stop, breathe, be still and know that you are
not alone.