Days that my mind races, I find it hard to write a post that is clear and coherent. My last post may have been fine for some, but for myself I feel it was clouded, and a bit confusing. It's days like that that I have to look back, and remember what it was that was so distracting. Today I was so tired from the weekend, I slept a lot. My mind reeled at the idea of being awake, and alive. Just the idea of being a productive member of society was too much for me today.
I cared for nothing, I wanted nothing, I felt nothing and reveled in that.
For some reason or another I was, and still am not ready to face the outside world today, or tomorrow. I will, however, get up tomorrow and dutifully (B sensed my failing mood and decided now was a good time to interject) and woefully shower, get dressed, and drive to work. Where I will do my best to maintain, try my best to keep it all together.
I read stories, and see ads for people with PTSD who have gone missing. Some are found, some are even found alive. Others are not found at all. I think on these people and I wonder if they have an answer I have yet to discover. Those that are never found, the ones that go missing, and stay missing. Do you think they found themselves, and are happy somewhere? I like to think so, I like to think that maybe they couldn't keep it all together, like maybe they couldn't maintain in a society that is as backwards as ours. So instead of fighting it, and being forced to hop on the medication train, they find their own peace.
Wishfully thinking I know. But I think if we dwell on the negative then it spreads to the rest of the world. But if we remain hopeful, and we keep a positive out look, maybe someone some where will be effected the same way as with negative thoughts.
So as always remain hopeful, find someone to talk to, even if like now as I am, you are unable to. Find someone and yell through all that guilt, and shame, and anxiety. Someone is out there that wants to listen, wants to help. Even if that wall of memories and guilt are so thick you can feel the tangible weight of them crushing your chest, find someone to talk to, do not go silently into the night. Fight with all that pain and sadness, use it as fuel, and help others, and yourself.
Stay strong. Stay above ground for one more day.
I cared for nothing, I wanted nothing, I felt nothing and reveled in that.
For some reason or another I was, and still am not ready to face the outside world today, or tomorrow. I will, however, get up tomorrow and dutifully (B sensed my failing mood and decided now was a good time to interject) and woefully shower, get dressed, and drive to work. Where I will do my best to maintain, try my best to keep it all together.
I read stories, and see ads for people with PTSD who have gone missing. Some are found, some are even found alive. Others are not found at all. I think on these people and I wonder if they have an answer I have yet to discover. Those that are never found, the ones that go missing, and stay missing. Do you think they found themselves, and are happy somewhere? I like to think so, I like to think that maybe they couldn't keep it all together, like maybe they couldn't maintain in a society that is as backwards as ours. So instead of fighting it, and being forced to hop on the medication train, they find their own peace.
Wishfully thinking I know. But I think if we dwell on the negative then it spreads to the rest of the world. But if we remain hopeful, and we keep a positive out look, maybe someone some where will be effected the same way as with negative thoughts.
So as always remain hopeful, find someone to talk to, even if like now as I am, you are unable to. Find someone and yell through all that guilt, and shame, and anxiety. Someone is out there that wants to listen, wants to help. Even if that wall of memories and guilt are so thick you can feel the tangible weight of them crushing your chest, find someone to talk to, do not go silently into the night. Fight with all that pain and sadness, use it as fuel, and help others, and yourself.
Stay strong. Stay above ground for one more day.
Touching post Elijah. Also touching on my own situation. I have been close for 8 years to a man with severe ptsd (who lost both of his legs, too) - he hardly ever leaves the house, lives in his mother's basement, refuses any kind of treatment and talks to no one about his issues, except me. He 'disappeared' two weeks ago when I tried one more time to get him out of the safety of our online 'safe place' (an instant messaging program). His panic was palpable. I had read up on ptsd, books and forums, but still underestimated the force of anxiety and the set of defences he tries to stay afloat with...No idea what I should do - let him be 'missing' for as long as it takes? Let him know I'm here, even when he doesn t reply? Give up? He has been a good (be it long distance) friend to me, despite his problems. Always decent and consistent, and very involved within the limits of the 'bubble' we created...ptsd is such a monster, keeping people isolated and anxious and self-loathing, not believing they have anything to give. Scared of any risk, scared of closeness when closeness is what they need to shine a little light in that dark rabbit hole they're stuck in. And the ones that love them get sucked in, then are shut out, pushed away...makes me so very sad today. I wish you well in your own struggle...
ReplyDeleteFirst off thank you for the touching words, they mean so much to me.
DeleteSecond, I hate to say this because even as I write it my own demons are fighting me. But never give up, sometimes we (as human beings) are not strong enough on our own. We all need that one person that we can rely on. I have family, but they remember the old me, so they expect the old me to respond to situations.
I am not the old me, I have been tried, tested, and found strong enough for anything. Anything except life after the test, PTSD is something that separates us from humanity, because of the lack of humanity at times we lose faith in others.
Never give up on your friend, sometimes I say things that would want others to give up, but inside I am screaming and crying for someone to take my hand and tell it will be OK.
When others come to us, and offer guidance or help, in any form. It is welcomed deep inside, but the memories are too much to bare at times, and we lash out. It isn't that we aren't strong enough to battle it, we just need help to separate the everyday worries of life, and the severe anxiety left by scars unseen.
I know it is tiring to fight for something that seems like it will never happen, but I can tell you that it will. I have yet to see my own healing in full, but everyday I get a glimpse of what is possible if myself, and my supports keep at it.