I’m out! (For now)

This topic is too fresh and painful for me to write about clearly, but it’s a journal entry that I believe will be helpful to others navigating their own pain, so I’m posting it with apologies for poor organization of my thoughts. Comments are encouraged.

Wednesday August 8. 11:00 PM

It’s been a year, since I saw The Video of Lies. A year of fire from which I am finally emerging. All night I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’m stepping out of a time capsule back into My Self, and then I realized….It’s been 9 days since this last attack hit, and a year since I came across my daughters’ horrible Video of Lies and spiraled into Hell…I never fully recovered from that attack, and somehow it feels like this recent one opened a door back to My Self.

And now I’m sitting on my couch, looking around at my life, and my blog, and my apartment, and wondering how the fuck I did all of this while I was in a coma?!

Right now all I want to do is go snuggle up next to Bone and sleep the sleep of the blessed and content…

 

Thursday August 9, 10:00 AM

I did indeed sleep the sleep of the blessed and content. Went to sleep at midnight and woke up at 8:45 this morning….Cautiously tapped PTSD on the shoulder, “you awake?”

PTSD: “go away, I’m sleeping! I’ve spent the last ten days making your life a living hell. You won, again, and I’m exhausted. You can walk the dog by yourself today.”

Yaaassssss!!!!!!!!!!!! 💃 💃💃💃💃💃💃

I virtually leap out of bed, give Ginger a big cuddle, take a quick shower, moisturize my skin, put on my favorite purple sarong, make the bed, throw in a load of laundry, unload the dishwasher, feed Ginger, make my tea, organize my lists, and start journaling. This is me. THIS. This joy and productivity and excitement for each and every new day that represents yet another win in this fight. Welcome back Mrs Bad Ass. We’ve missed you.

Oh, PTSD will be back, rest assured. It never really leaves, but there are stretches where I have the strong upper-hand, and I’m seriously due for one of those.

The burst of productivity which is about to commence before PTSD does return will reinforce the accusations of “bipolar” and “mood disorder” from those who wish they were as strong, persistent, and optimistic as I in the face of a confusing, terrifying and little understood mental illness.

That’s fine. They can just stand over there and point fingers at me. I’ve got some shit to do and don’t have time to worry about them at the moment. You can get my autograph next time assholes 💁‍♀️ .

Maybe one of these days I’ll be lucky enough to get a scan of my brain in and out of a level 9 PTSD attack. This is the first time I’ve had the opportunity to observe my own attack for what it is, due to my extensive research and journaling, and the experience  has been incredibly empowering.

I’m developing a system of leveling my attacks according to the number of days required to cycle from the Trigger back to “normal.” It is my hope that this will deepen my understanding of my own disorder, and allow me to predict the potential length of time specific triggers will require to heal so I can get some structure and predictability back in my life.

I had the distinct impression last night, over the course of several hours after Bone got home and i shared my day with him, of the electrical fire in my brain receding, the electronics resetting, and the whole machine beginning to whir back into motion. It is not a new feeling, as this cycle is something I’ve experienced repeatedly, regularly, throughout my life. But because of my recent research and journaling, I am now able to better understand what is happening INSIDE my brain, and it suddenly makes so much sense – my whole life, this weird cycle of ups and downs, of confidence and fear, of boundless energy and incapacitating fatigue, of feeling fully connected to the world and then so utterly separated and alone.

It is my goal to keep understanding PTSD, and if I cannot rid myself of it completely, to at least form a truce that allows me to keep living SOME sort of life whilst in the midst of an attack. And if sharing my experience helps even one other person, then I’ll do it again.


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