Wherein i recall the sweet buzz...

the "Inside PTSD" collection:

  1. inside ptsd
  2. inside ptsd, the mad list
  3. inside ptsd, backstory
  4. inside ptsd, fleeing
  5. inside ptsd, two
  6. inside ptsd, remediation
  7. inside ptsd, three, rage
  8. inside ptsd, transaction costs
  9. time shift, inside the ptsd
  10. time shift three
  11. time shift two, still inside the ptsd
  12. inside ptsd, the addiction episode
  13. survive vs heal
  14. inside ptsd, body knows
  15. inside ptsd, body knows, part one
  16. one hour
  17. that same afternoon
  18. inside ptsd, more than a recollection
  19. inside ptsd, body knows 2
  20. acceptance.
  21. inside ptsd, the addiction episode, part 2
  22. inside ptsd, the addiction episode, part 3
  23. inside ptsd, a student of trauma
  24. inside ptsd, the addiction episode, part 4a
  25. inside ptsd, the addiction episode, part 4b
  26. inside ptsd, the addiction episode, part 5
  27. inside ptsd, more than a recollection, part 2
  28. acute
  29. inside my midlife ptsd
  30. one day—the daylight part—inside ptsd
  31. inside ptsd, mere survival
  32. inside ptsd, economics
  33. one day, at night, inside ptsd
  34. on the outside, looking in
  35. inside ptsd, in the wind
  36. inside ptsd, in the wind, two
  37. a is for anxiety
  38. inside ptsd, the last match
  39. inside ptsd, addicted to addiction
  40. inside ptsd, outside looking in
  41. Day Three, Haunted
  42. inside ptsd, what it is
  43. inside ptsd, it takes time
  44. inside ptsd, the plea for understanding
  45. before the aftermath

possibly related

addicted to being addicted, addicted to ptsd.

it's a pitfall to be wary of, the chance you get to be addicted to your ptsd, to find so much familiar comfort in being off balance all the time that you don't take steps to heal for fear of losing that which has become so much a part of who you ware.

when you spend all your time trying to survive, and you succeed at it with any modicum of spaciouness—meaning, say, that at 10pm when you lay yourself down to sleep and you're not laying on hard ground, you're not being yelled at or hurt, when you've made it through another long spate of wakeful hours w/o hurting anyone or yourself, you may get a moment to reflect, and the first bit that comes to mind is i have survived. i am still here, and it's a victory of the highest sort, to attain the title of Survivor.

when the ptsd wanes, through time or healing, the triumph of survival lessens. when it's not so damn hard to make it through 16 hours intact, what celebration can there be at the end of the day. so what, you endured another day with challenges that are getting easier, with rocks less sharp stabbing your feet, with fewer demons, with the prospect of another night of decent(!) sleep. what is there to celebrate then?

there is at that moment a temptation to mourn the passing of the post-traumatic storms, b/c what remains is too flat, too bland, too easy to warrant any sense of accomplishment.

you've become addicted to the thrill of survival, to the coursing waves of adrenaline and cortisol and oxytocin vying for balance in your nervous brain, and when balance comes, the thrill of not toppling off the cliff is gone and an emptiness remains. You don't want to ask for the ptsd to return, b/c that's what you're never supposed to wish for, but you have to wish for something b/c when the battle is at least for a span of time won, what then? if you don't have your very survival to fight for, what the hell are you going to do all day?

Tombstone in a cemetery

You are loved, and, there are clues, directions actually:

Saint Augustine: Love, and do what you will.

The Tao: Do nothing, yet leave nothing undone.

The Sergeant: Stand down, son.

Jesus: Love one another. (John: 15:17)

And all i long to hear is 'well done'.


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