PTSD, repression, and other not so happy things
*DISCLAIMER: This will not be a happy read. This will be another of those blunt, raw blog posts that I just let my fingers do the walking on. I'm not even entirely sure what the full post will contain nor how long it will be. PLEASE, if you can't handle raw emotion, close out of this post. There will be no sparkly unicorns farting rainbows, burping sunshine or sneezing glitter here today.* Okay, take a good long look at the above picture. That thin strand in the middle? That's where I feel like I've been teetering for about 2 months now. I have it in perfect balance right now but the slightest movement forward or backward and it will snap and to the left or the right, I'll crash to the ground. It's been just shy of six months since my diagnosis of PTSD, and I've learned a lot of things in that time that you don't normally get told when you are in the office. For example...for about 6 weeks, every night from 9:30 to 10:45 I would ...