Somedays the shit (trauma) is just alive



Somedays the shit (trauma) is just alive, intrusive thoughts never stop, enough fear drugs flow to start the snowball rolling down that old hill.

I have learned to live with, how do you describe, some pain, how do you quantify that in words, without getting upset.

Yes, being abused as a kid has given me a sick sense of gallows humor. We were the opposite of spoiled.

The things I write.

Life is far more serious for us kids. At school I was different. They were calmer, freer, not anxious, not apprehensive, not afraid, some were confidant.

How? I always knew I had to go back home, how could you not be anxious, afraid, sick to your stomach.

As a kid, I knew something was wrong with my dad.

I know pain has been and will be part of my life, why get upset unless it doubles.

Striving to heal is totally different than the reality of being in emotional pain.

I would describe my PTSD pain as emotional (abstract).

The physical abuse I have endured was easier to move on from, the emotional crap left deep scars.

I felt special the first time I healed. PTSD exploded again, then the Second PTSD War started.

Special left my vocabulary.

If we were honest, we would see PTSD takes over for a while, until we center ourself.

I get lost but I find my way back.

It is not the life I chose, but is the one I live and accept today.




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