Tag Archives: Posttraumatic stress disorder

Dear body

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Dear body,

I know you have a mind of your own, but I need to get to sleep. You see, you and I have not been getting along well lately. How can I count the ways? There was the chipped tooth in my sleep. Yesterday it was weird pain in both of my shoulders when I woke up. Pray tell, what were we doing in the night? Never mind, I probably don’t want to know. Then there’s always the intermittent painful right leg that hampers me upon waking just about once a week. I think I know what that one is about, but, really, didn’t we already suffer enough when that actually took place live and in person?

So, how about we go to sleep, just normal boring sleep like a well-adjusted person? I know we’re not well-adjusted, but we can pretend for the night, can we? You see, here’s the thing, I like to be employed. It’s nice paying my bills, making rent, putting gas in my car, eating … I know, I can be so high maintenance. What can I say? I like the good life. But, in order to do these things I need to sleep RIGHT NOW. The bonus is that you get to do these awesome things with me. So, how about we turn out the lights, snuggle up with my stuffed Grinchy (I’m already in the holiday spirit!) and try to get some sleep? I’m game if you are.

In appreciation,

Beatriz (the inhabitant of said body)

In the midst of chaos, there’s hope

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It wasn’t all bad news yesterday.

I went to my favorite place for brunch after church. (By the way, church was fine. None of the peeps got upset.) I don’t go to my favorite brunch place as much as I would like because it gets mad packed. But I wanted to eat there so I told myself I would persevere. It paid off. The hostess recognized me, and asked me if I would like a counter seat if one came up before a table. I said yes, then this bratty young woman next to me started trying to get the attention of the hostess because she wanted her to know that she and her boyfriend also wanted to eat at the counter if that came up first. She made a complete ninny menace of herself. I think because of that they ignored her. The staff knows me, and treats me well even though a good bit of time may pass between my visits. They ushered me over quickly to a counter seat, and, for some reason, they gave me my tea for free. I had the brunch special:

General’s Benedict (never heard of it, but it was tasty) – two biscuits with poached eggs, braised chicken, sauteed mushrooms, caramelized onions, and white sausage gravy (the Texan in me was thrilled that white gravy was on the menu!)

The  bratty girl and her boyfriend were still waiting for a table when I left. Ha!

When I finally was able to go to the laundromat to drop off my laundry the cashier gave me a wink-wink and charged me a lot less for my laundry than the scale read. She smiled, winked, and said something about taking care of regular customers.

Yesterday while I was flat on my back in bed trying not to feel so heavy, and trying to find the strength to get it together, a friend of mine texted me and helped me get out of my fog so that I could get things done. Vicki, if you’re out there, I freakin’ love you. I love you for being such an awesome friend, but, yesterday, I especially loved you for texting me helping me get out of the bad neighborhood that’s also known as my HEAD.

Even when the chips are down, the universe can still cut a person a break or two. Yesterday was proof of that.

lost friends

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You’ve had a hard day of therapy, so you take yourself to the grocery store for a distraction. It’s usually a good choice. However, today you run into two former friends.

It’s obviously awkward for everyone. They don’t try to hide the Deer-in-the-Headlights look on their face. You say hello. They say hello back with a vacant distant look. You shuffle on as quickly as you can so that everyone can stop feeling awkward.

Afterwards, a part of you hopes for a text or an email from one of them, but, alas, there is none. You finally realize that the friendship is really over.

You drive home, cry a little, and then once you pull into your apartment complex you get out of car and immediately go for a brisk walk. The frozen grocery items can wait while you walk! You turn up the Glee playlist on your iPhone because you need to get the self-defeating thoughts out of your head. You replay “Defying Gravity” a few times, and even “Gives You Hell,” but you feel only mildly better.

The PTSD was too much for them, and a part of you understands. It’s true that they triggered you inadvertently a few months ago, and it was made worse later by one of them. It was The Episode That Made It Worse that was the real breaking point. You realize you’re talking in riddles here, but you can’t possibly relive it again.

You’ll never forget that horrid Winter Dance where you and your partner were on the verge of splitsville. “Billie Jean” started playing, and, for lack of anything else to do, you went on the dance floor to dance by yourself to that horrid song. This short, spunky woman then starts dancing next to you, and says, “Hi, I’m Faith! Doesn’t this suck?” Yes, the dance did suck, and that was the start of your friendship.

You just have to accept that they are gone.