Okay… its been a WILD week. In fact, its been a rather bumpy few weeks. I’ve definitely had some good times and things I am looking forward to like upcoming craft shows (my first year doing them), reaching over 1100 readers and over 19,700 views, my hubby and I have successfully found our way through another marriage minefield (deciding to stay where we are or move – he won, we are staying), many good chats with my sister-in-laws and friends, terrific comments in here from people whom I respect (all of you!)… I have truly been doing quite well. At least from the outside. That is half the battle right?
On the inside I am FED UP with PTSD. My generally tough fighter spirit has taken a bit of a bashing lately. Too many nightmares, wayyyyyyy too many flashbacks including one memory that won’t leave even when the flashback is over. It just sits there like a bully waiting to find a minute when I am not paying attention or standing on guard.
I’m still having trouble eating and have become even more afraid of being harmed through food. It happened while growing up so for me this is not an unrealistic thought although I need not fear it NOW.
And then my level of confusion, forgetfulness and downright dissociation from things… Oh dear. My poor husband has a terrific sense of humour about it thank goodness although he often says to me that if I ever get Alzheimers or dementia, he won’t know the difference. Ha ha ha… very funny sweetheart. 😉
My (hopefully) unrealistic fear of being shot has not been helped by constant house construction and people using nail guns but now it is moose hunting season here as well and they hunt moose at the end of my street (a path is there going in to the woods) so I see people driving by on 4 wheelers toting their guns in and out on a regular basis. Not to mention the crack of real gunshots…
Now… I am Canadian, I live in a safe place and my chance of being shot is about the same as being hit by a bus… and we don’t have bus service here. Hiding in my house and avoiding windows is really just silly but my brain refuses to believe it. Good ol’ PTSD.
So that is why I am fed up! My shiny and strong armour has a few dents, a few holes and a few rust spots that all need to be fixed. I keep doing all the things I have learned to do to take care of myself but the truth is that even with all the right tools in your toolbox, you can sometimes just feel fed up with it anyways.
Perhaps I should throw myself a giant pity party and just get it all out there? Sort of like I am doing here and now? 😉 Anyone else want to come? I can set up PTSD games like…
- Standing behind me. How long can I take it?
- Trust me. Bawahahaha. Trust? Get real.
- Watch the news for 5 minutes. Whomever can get triggered the most times wins!
- Who am I? Stick personality traits on your friends so they have a clue who they really are.
- The PTSD Pinata will be fun too but we have to stop beating it at some point. THAT will be the real challenge.
- Shame. Mine is bigger than yours. No… yours might be bigger. No… mine is. No… maybe yours…
- Decision making seminars will be held on Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday at 1 or 2 or 3 or 4. I can’t decide.
- And last but not least. Hide and seek for persons with PTSD and/or DID. No need to really hide. Just dissociate and we’ll try to get you back in record time. Or we can join you wherever you are if it’s nicer there. I’m not choosy.
So what do you think? Want to have a PTSD pity party with me? There is only one rule. You can not look shocked when I swear. My husband says I was a sailor in my last life and a trucker in this one. I’m not willing to change that just for a party. 😉 I will try to be good though. 🙂
So who’s coming?