A flick of a finger. Ping. And I was once
again in the PTSD abyss...
"Friday. I am going back to work. In two weeks, I return. I believe it's for the best. I will
ONLY DO AS DIRECTED. No special projects generated by me! Just what I am told to do.
Why am I returning? Because it feels right for me. I am bored here.
And why not give it a go? I am good at it! I must, however, protect myself. I MUST.
I will take one/each day at a time. One day at work. At
a time. And if it doesn't suit me--if it feels like way too much, then I will retire.
the correct diagnosis for me. I believe my work with Dr. (therapist's name) is important. My sense of overall
safety--my worldview--has been damaged.
to do? Well, first recognize it. And it is true. I see where people may become agoraphobic. That just
leaving the house feels dangerous!
birds. Family. Last night all of us at home. Precious.
But...the soft and silky fur of this cat...
Will you, Kim, let it (PTSD) control you? What happened to you, Kim? Like
"insecure kudzu" wrapping all around you. Distrust. Suspicion. Insomnia. High blood pressure....and
How do I remain secure?
Eight months later.
love the quiet. The usual. I love a sense of fulfillment and of possibility. I just re-read entries from
last year. "The year of going crazy..."
Ah. It's a lying, cheating world.
Do I prefer to be treated with respect by a tax evading criminal...or be ogled lasciviously by a school principal?
Maybe we humans simply cannot help our natures.
My nature: Right now I'm holding onto resentment. I was
wronged. But does that merit this growing feeling of disconnect? Righteousness...?
7, 2017. I had a really good year. Glad I stayed.