I’m alone a lot these days. Justin works Sunday and Monday nights, Tuesday he has class, and Wednesday he has Police Academy. And while I relish my time alone, lately it’s been causing some problems with my PTSD.
When I was first faced with my dad losing his legs, my shrink told me to just give myself 60 seconds a couple times a day to cry and let it all out. And it worked–the bathroom became my little safe place to be afraid or upset, and the feelings would pass like a tiny storm and I’d be fine again.
I never ignore those feelings. I never block them out. But PTSD is a lot different than grief or stress. It’s visual. It’s physical. Your body jumps from feeling fine to being back into that moment or period of time. The jump can be triggered by anything and it’s unexpected and shocking. And when I’m alone and not concentrating on a book, show, song or chore, it hits me hard and often. Continue reading