Today I am writing a bit lost at the moment. My head is in the game, my body is willing, but my mind is wandering. Like a small child all the shiny things are distracting today.
This being my 99th post, I thought I would share my plans for my next post, usually I open my blog, stare that the screen, while I visualize all the ways I can express myself, once I do that, I write how to over come those things.
My entire blog is very raw, there are errors everywhere, and I keep it that. It is a way for me to remember the hurdles I had while writing. Like little invisible flags that say, "hey this, this right here, is when you almost lost it writing that sentence. You remember?"
Yes, yes I do remember.
But tomorrow I am going to try something new, I am going to break my habits. As I write this blog, I keep person information to a minimum, while sharing my soul. My last two posts have gotten a lot of attention. A lot of questions have arisen, some that can only be answered with tomorrows post.
I have an issue sharing my personal information, even with people I love, and call family. Large portions of my life no one knows about. Huge chucks of my life I have kept secret for fear of giving people the ammo necessary to harm me.
My walls are still up, my defenses are still strong. My will still fights me, to pull back, and delete this entire post. My mind screams for me to stop. But if I am to break through the walls of PTSD, I must push myself. I must open myself to the possibility of being hurt, of being weak, so that i may grow and become stronger.
I must fight the anxiety, the nightmares, the waking dreams, the fear. I must fight it all, so that I may over come it.
Now I say tomorrow, because I am not yet ready to open up. I am not yet ready to hand over the keys to my castle and hope that those who enter mean me no harm.
On the marrow, my good friends. On the marrow, we shall rise stronger than before.
This being my 99th post, I thought I would share my plans for my next post, usually I open my blog, stare that the screen, while I visualize all the ways I can express myself, once I do that, I write how to over come those things.
My entire blog is very raw, there are errors everywhere, and I keep it that. It is a way for me to remember the hurdles I had while writing. Like little invisible flags that say, "hey this, this right here, is when you almost lost it writing that sentence. You remember?"
Yes, yes I do remember.
But tomorrow I am going to try something new, I am going to break my habits. As I write this blog, I keep person information to a minimum, while sharing my soul. My last two posts have gotten a lot of attention. A lot of questions have arisen, some that can only be answered with tomorrows post.
I have an issue sharing my personal information, even with people I love, and call family. Large portions of my life no one knows about. Huge chucks of my life I have kept secret for fear of giving people the ammo necessary to harm me.
My walls are still up, my defenses are still strong. My will still fights me, to pull back, and delete this entire post. My mind screams for me to stop. But if I am to break through the walls of PTSD, I must push myself. I must open myself to the possibility of being hurt, of being weak, so that i may grow and become stronger.
I must fight the anxiety, the nightmares, the waking dreams, the fear. I must fight it all, so that I may over come it.
Now I say tomorrow, because I am not yet ready to open up. I am not yet ready to hand over the keys to my castle and hope that those who enter mean me no harm.
On the marrow, my good friends. On the marrow, we shall rise stronger than before.
Very relatable post Elijah. I remember speaking with my PTSD friend in exactly the same terms- him being in a highly defended castle and me being outside the gate hoping I could ease my way in. Or him being a rock and an island like in the famous Simon and Garfunkel song. "I touch no one and no one touches me." I never did get that key - too much fear, too much stuckness. It also reminds me of a quote I read, a woman telling what it's like to be so walled off from the world to remain safe from further injury:
ReplyDelete"There is a delicate porcelain figure. It is not the beautiful kind you see on a shelf, it is ugly beyond description. The slightest wind will knock it over and break it forever. So it is locked inside a great double-walled brick box. It must never see or be seen. It therefor will not experience pain of any kind. Nor will it, however, experience anything. Not love, affection, the wind in her hair, nothing. To protect this creature is the one and only goal.In spite of being protected from breakage, it is, in fact, already destroyed. And dead."
I am very glad you have the courage to break through the walls. No dead man walking here...