Tag Archives: Posttraumatic stress disorder

Seven Things Award

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Sorry, gang. I’ve been remiss about getting around to the awards for which I’ve been nominated. I’m playing catch up this week.

Last week, Maxi at Me and Anxiety nominated me for the Seven Things award. Thanks Maxi!

The rules of the Seven things about me award are:

  1. Thank the blogger who nominated you.
  2. Share seven things about yourself.
  3. Nominate other bloggers you think deserve the award, and post on their blog to let them know they’ve been nominated.

Here are seven things about me:

  1. I have a thick-headed sense of justice, so much so that I’ve quit jobs over it. It’s a gift and curse rolled into one.
  2. Since my PTSD diagnosis 4 years ago I’ve gained 45 pounds. I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror.
  3. Nearly every day I fight suicidal ideation. It’s been that way for most of the past 4 years.
  4. I am not a big candy eater, but I do like peanut M&Ms.
  5. My hair has been long all my life except for a horrid Easter season ca. 1986 and one regrettable hair cut in college.
  6. I have way too many degrees, 2 bachelors and almost a third masters. What can I say? I like learning.
  7. I am not a fan of hot weather. I belong in London, Dublin, Seattle, or Reykjavik. Every day I longingly check out the weather in these cities.

Here are 7 blogs I’ve recently started following that contribute greatly to the blogosphere. Please check them out.

  1. Soberistas
  2. The Undateable Virgin
  3. Staying Afloat
  4. Shoegaze and cats
  5. defying ptsd
  6. Not your victim
  7. Discovering Serenity

I have one more award to formally accept this week. So stay tuned! As always, thank you for being such a great supportive group here at wordpress.

Love,

Beatriz

Death brings choices

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When you’ve run away from home you can never truly run away.

You ran away at 18, and aside from a short period of time in your twenties, you’ve not looked back.

The news of your grandmother’s death wafts its way to you eventually. You’ve learned that your grandmother died on Friday, the mother of your father. Your father left your life when you were a little girl. You didn’t have a lot of involvement with this grandmother, but you did have contact with your aunt, your father’s sister.

The family expects you to attend. You can’t even bring yourself to call them “your family.” The concept is an abomination to your brain.

There is no way that you are going. For a moment of insanity you considered it, and looked up flights on Kayak. The cheapest flight was $890! But you know in the back of your mind that if the flight had been free you would have declined. The search was just a formality for your brain.

Though you are not going, you have that shaky, twitchy feeling. You know that thousands of miles away that they’re shaking their heads when they speak of you. And though you ran away 20 years ago, they still have a hold on you.

The boring diner

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There’s this diner near my apartment that I love. It’s actually a very pedestrian diner. The food is okay, not great or bad, just fine. The service is probably the best part of the place. The staff are always friendly. There’s one sweet girl that remembers I like tea, and today she asked me, “What kind of tea will it be today?” I chose iced tea since it was hot outside. Even as I chose it I knew that the hot tea was a better choice, but I wanted iced tea. So, I prepared myself for what was coming, and this is what I got.

As you can see, I am guilty of starting to drink it before I remembered to take a picture. Yes, I was thirsty. I needed to quench my thirst. But, this was instant iced tea! I know, I know, such things should be outlawed. However, because I know their iced tea is instant my taste buds were prepared for it.

Then I ordered the pancakes with nutella and bananas with bacon on the side.

The pancakes are likely from a mix as they don’t have the buttermilk tang that they would possess if they were made from scratch. But that’s why I get them with the nutella and bananas. They hide the bland pancakes, and give them flavor.

Every time I decide I’m going to go to the diner to eat I tell myself that I should choose a more exciting restaurant, one with a better menu. However, there’s a comfort I have in eating here, and I always feel welcome. I know exactly what I can expect every single time I dine here, and they never let me down. It’s always over air-conditioned in the summer, and I need to carry in a cardigan. So, I’m always prepared with one.

As a person with PTSD it’s nice to have things I can count in life to be the same no matter what. My diner never changes. The iced tea is instant. The pancakes are from a mix, and the place is too cool in the summer. And every weekend I eat here.