I have yet to determine
how cleaning out the house equates with joy in my head. It does though.
Somehow, I think that my brain makes the equation because I’m clearing out what
some may consider “junk”, but none of it is. I’m getting rid of furniture, clothing,
small appliances and the like, and it makes me happy? Is it because I have so
much emotional junk stored in my head that when I clean out the house, clean up
the house and make everything all nice, neat, pretty, and organized that I
think I’m also cleaning out my head? Probably.
Actually, I think I just
hit the nail on the head. Oh, how I wish that was true! I’d love to get rid of
the crap I’ve carried for a very, very long time. I just can’t make myself
actually TALK about it. Not truly. I’ll skim the surface and maybe make a few
ripples in the water, but I don’t want to dive in and grab the crap at the
bottom and bring it to the surface. It scares me…a lot. I don’t even know what
all I have stuffed down and conveniently forgotten because remembering it hurts
and the emotional toil it puts me through is horrific.
That is the joy of PTSD. I
want it all better, but I don’t want to remember. And then something will
happen…a sight, a sound, a smell or even just a feeling and then all of a
sudden you are in the trenches fighting to regain control and come back to
reality. The fear that you’ll hurt yourself or someone else is a very real
thing. And honestly, my biggest fear is that I’ll hurt someone else. So, I just
shove it back down and pretend it never happened.
But things ARE happening.
In rapid succession and I can feel the avalanche coming and I don’t know that I
can stop it. Yes, I KNOW I need a therapist, but do you have any idea what it’s
like to have therapists say to you, “Wow. I really can’t help you. I don’t have
enough experience to truly help.” I have had 10…yes…10 different therapists say
almost the exact sentence to me. After a while…you just…give up.
Now there are new
stressors and I know the uncertainty of everything is what is causing all the
other things to happen, but I can’t stop any of it. It’s going to happen. One
way or another. I just don’t want to end up in a “safe” room at a locked
facility. I’ve been there. 25 years ago…and the memories are absolutely
atrocious and I do not want to go as an adult.
Maybe that’s why, as much
as I want a certain pistol, I have not purchased it yet. Maybe my subconscious
psyche knows that maybe it’s not the best time to put that kind of item in my
reach. And then the conscious psyche pops off with something like I need to
look at the fact that we already own a shotgun and I do perfectly fine with
that around. No issues. Cause I’m too much of a coward (or too smart) to
actually DO something.
Sheesh. I’m really all
over the board today. But this is me…every day. Everywhere and nowhere at the
exact same time.
Everywhere and nowhere.
God help me!
No comments:
Post a Comment