Writings

Tag: PTSD Page 1 of 5

Saying Sayonara to a sincerely subpar September

One of my favorite pictures of my cat, Puck.

We’re a third of the way through October, but it’s only now that I’ve been able to gather my thoughts on the dire events of September.

October wins, but by less of a margin

The screaming woke me up. It took several moments for me to determine the screaming was coming from inside my head. It happens. It is part of my trauma. It is part of a flashback. It gets worse, like everything else in October.

Your body, my choice

Content warning: This triptych contains content that may be distressing for some individuals.

Second degree burn

I don’t feel well

I looked at the clock – 5:27 a.m. I’ve lost nearly 90 minutes in this flashback. The screaming woke me up again. My nausea alternated between a 7 and a 9. When it finally settled down to a 3, I started crying. I thought to myself, “I don’t feel well.” Then, a memory unlocked of a conversation I had many times with my mother when she came to wake me up for school.

Maybe October didn’t win

Sometimes it’s hard to sit down to write and explain what is going on with me. There are always several different stories bouncing around in my head, so I’m never short of ideas. What I lack is providing a good description of things to people who have no experience in the realms I have been in.

Sleeping would be nice

My clock at an angle, which makes the moon phase look wrong.

I woke up at 11:30 p.m., panicked and sweating. It’s common occurrence. My right eye hurt – another frequent notation in my sleep log, which is usually connected to the entire right side of my face hurting.

Working with my therapist, I have an inkling of what some of these things are, but it’s going to take time to figure them out. I have to piece together what’s happening and why, while listening to what my body is telling me. Unlike my brain, my body can’t paint pictures or speak.

I don’t sleep on Fridays

I don’t sleep well most nights, but I never get any rest on Fridays. It’s been this way most of my life and I never knew why.

A game changing theory and realizing you’re not alone

A sunflower soaks up the rays of the sun at BE Farm in Bayard, Nebraska on August 3, 2023.

A few days ago, I read a column, which really hit home. The author, Lucia Osborne-Crowley, is a trauma expert. After reporting on the Ghislaine Maxwell trial devastated her own mental health, she checked herself in to one of the world’s leading residential trauma-treatment centers.

I would encourage everyone to go read the article, but I wanted to share some parts of the article that resonated with me.

But you never went to war

Puck on the couch.

But you never went to war

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