first mess up

of the season.  With PTSD one of the things I am guaranteed is I mess up.  The higher the stress the more spectacular the screw ups.  I could beat myself up but what good would it do.  Today I went into full retreat at work.  A substitute teacher was talking about highly controversial subjects and I shut down and didn’t speak up.  I felt myself closing down.  Second screw up, I bought Halloween cards for all the grandkids and lost half of them.  Halloween is tomorrow.  I need to let it go.  I’ll find them eventually and save them for next year.  Halloween is tomorrow. I feel myself stretching thinner and thinner emotionally.  But this happens every year.  I love Halloween but I may be retreating to cope this year.  My first counselor watched the pattern of accelerating inward collapse every year.  He would get me to talk and talk and talk but never did figure out why I fall apart so completely.  I’m sad.  I want to hang on to the excitement and happiness of the Holidays but that seems to slip through my fingers faster than snow melting in the desert.  I know what is happening.  I watch myself do this every year.  Acceptance is the key.  I accept that this time of year, I screw up.  Hugs myself and move on.

2 thoughts on “first mess up

  1. Holidays are a nightmare because NM escalated her expectations, made big promises and punished us for believing she’d follow through. Her seesaw moods started before her birthday and carried right through to summer. She complained about everything for Halloween, the candy, the costumes she didn’t want to deal with, the people coming to the door, the mess of jack-o-lanterns. This swung into the need for the perfect Thanksgiving, even as she complained about all the food and made more. She wanted help but expected us to be mindreaders. And then there was Christmas and all her expectations that of course were never met. New Year’s was one more holiday to complain about expectations. Then there was the regrets in January about overspending and and and… February and Valentine’s Day with cards expected for all our classmates, and she saw all the problems. Then March and spring and allergies… Is is any wonder we dread the holidays? We had to suppress our enjoyment of each holiday or suffer the wrath of being told all the problems revolving around each one… wow… didn’t expect all that to pour out. We’re learning. I’m not sure I have the courage to dress up, this year, again, even though I promise myself I will every year.

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