Oblivious

The only thing worse than not being understood by the one you love is finding out they did understand.  They just didn’t care.

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The plaster is cracking.

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep a memory from my childhood tried to surface. I am only writing about this because it was such a strange sensation.

It started with a smell. A remembered smell. Then a splinter of a memory. It’s so hard to explain this feeling. It was like the front of my forehead, was a wall. A literal wall. I could feel it. As the emotions that were connected to this memory tried to come through that wall, panic set it. My entire body jolted and I started frantically rubbing my head, like I could wipe the feeling away. I felt a kind of pressure almost. I panicked.

nononononononostopstopstopstopstopnononononononono

you can make this stop, think of something else, quick,

stopitstopitstopitstopitnononononononononogetupgetupgetupgetupgetuplalalalalalalalalala.

And on and on, as this memory tried to come to the front. I panicked. I know whatever this memory is, it’s too much. I don’t want it. I almost got up and deleted the Facebook page and the website. That’s why this is happening. I’m doing this to myself. I want to heal. To heal I have to remember. But can I handle remembering? I thought I remembered almost all of it. What I think has happened is, I’ve remembered in a fog. Like it’s a story I read. I know what happened. I have bits of the actual events. What I don’t have are the emotions that went along with it. The terror. That’s what is trying to break free.

I fell asleep last night repeating words over and over in my head. I don’t remember dreaming. Today, I’m exhausted. I’m scared. I don’t know if I can do this.

 

23 Things I Wish People Understood About PTSD

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23 Things I Wish People Understood About PTSD