Blah

Compassion for oneself is not always easy.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not always the most patient of individuals. It may take me a while to make up my mind, but when I do, I want results! Apparently, that’s the same even when I am not in control…

Ok, I experienced “trauma”, but this whole Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) nonsense, is for the birds! I understand that my body and mind need time to heal. I’m willing to give them the space (and compassion) they need to do so, but not at the expense of my life and only for a limited time!

Physically, I am healing. I have a timeline: the neck brace is off, no surgery is needed and I need to “take it easy” for the next 2 months. Yes, 2 months… that I can handle. It’s concrete. It’s a finite period of time that is going to end and I will be able to return to my “normal” activities*.

On the mental side, all I get is “It’s going to take some time to get over” or my personal favorite “this may permanently have changed your outlook on life”. Ha! I don’t accept that! I refuse to believe that for the rest of my life I am going to have to open every door in my apartment when I come home, that the stairs to my apartment are going to make my heart skip a beat or that anyone walking behind me is going to make me feel uncomfortable. Not to mention this insane (and sometimes overwhelming) irrational fear of being hit; as in flinching when someone gets too close because they might hit me (I mean come on… how much damage can an 80 year old women getting on the metro really do?) I try and laugh, but the reality is, it pisses me off! My mind is betraying me: it’s forgetting things, it still refuses to focus sometimes and my once enjoyable fantasies of having a partner a family and multiple homes are being shrouded by fears of 80 year-old women hitting me. All this and there is no concrete timeline; no “in 2 months all this will be a thing of the past and you will get back to your normal activities**”

My friend the shrink keeps reminding me of the complexity of the human brain and assuring me that all this is simply manifestations of PTSD… Blah! I want my brain back!


*(taking after my friend [Cherry] Ride I am adding footnotes) by “normal activities” I mean swimming, the gym, massaging etc, but I haven’t swam in months so, that’s a small delusion of mine.

** just to clarify – the normal activities here would be the fantasies of a partner, multiple houses, a dog and a great sex life