PTSD has the upper hand

I worked hard through 10 years of counseling.  Then every so often PTSD gets the upper hand.  I slide back down into the pit of gurgling unresolved emotions with slick steep sides and no rope thrown to me.  PTSD is an on going battle.  I start to believe I have it whipped and it sweeps my feet reminding me, my control is an illusion maintained when I don’t make waves.  Heavy sigh.  Some web pages will brag that they beat PTSD and no longer have symptoms.  I am very happy for them and slightly envious.  Not here.  PTSD is all I know.  I am improving.  I remind myself the steps I need to take to get my feet back under me.  I recognize I need to rebuild my boundaries.  I accept my dicey memory for what it is, one more example that I am not perfect, that’s OK.  If someone else makes a big deal about minor short comings, it is not a reflection on me.  I know I have short comings.  My short term and long term memory is just plain weird.  I can remember the most random information word for word or picture it perfectly in my mind.  A person’s name, it helps if I have their name written down in front of me.  Insomnia is the first symptom to get worse.  Hearing follows shortly after that…yes my hearing gets worse with higher stress.  My reasoning and logic gets muddled so I tend to focus on minute detail because I simply can’t take in the big picture.  I’m crabby and irritable and tearing somebodies head off, seems reasonable.

Breath deep the deepening gloom watch lights fade from every room ………cold hearted  Orb that rules the night, removes the colors from our sight, red is gray and yellow white but we decide which is an illusion?…..

I can set boundaries.  I can sort out my feelings.  I can recognize the triggers.  I can lessen their impact.  I can breathe deep.  I can exercise.  I can play mindless video games to calm my mind.  I can take baby steps back to where I was.  I can use different coping skills for different situations.  I can stop a complete melt down.  Puddles are fun to splash in.  I can re-image my mind patterns.  I can make new choices.  I may recognize the road I am going down but I know how to put on the brakes and turn a corner.  I can cope.  I can choose to thrive….maybe not tomorrow but soon.






Original poems from Moody Blues.

“Late Lament”

Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
Watch lights fade from every room.
Bedsitter people look back and lament,
Another day’s useless energy spent.
Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
Lonely man cries for love and has none.
New mother picks up and suckles her son,
Senior citizens wish they were young.
Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white.
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?’

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