PTSD 6 - Who the Heck am I?

Well, life has been interesting that's for sure. I have had some significantly large steps forward and then a few unfortunate tumbles back. Fortunately, I still have God, Gina, and some really great friends to walk me through the rough patches. I have found that one of the hardest parts of dealing with PTSD, and the consequential side-effects, is trying to figure out who to be instead of who I have been for the past 20 years of my life. This is incredibly difficult. Maybe it should be easy or fun but right now it just isn't. There are times when I am so focused on trying to determine my PTSD-free identity that I lose focus on being PTSD free. I get depressed or overwhelmed by the thoughts of not really knowing who or what I should be. I feel like my high school students must feel: always trying out new identities to see which one could fit. Unfortunately, I have never been much of a shopper. My dad taught me to know what I want, go inside to find it, and GET OUT. He's not much for large crowds. I have been a quick in-and-out shopper for as long as I can remember. Shopping around for a new identity is not my idea of a good time. I feel like I'm stuck in a mall (much like Northfield) that has very limited shop choices and even then it's a small-town mall and the selection in each shop sucks. I have been told that our identities are ever-evolving. This is great news, but what am I evolving from? I get that people change throughout their lifetime, but is everyone so conscious of the transition?

Okay, so when I'm not whining about my life I've been thinking about who I think I am and who I seem to be at this point. Aren't you so lucky that I'm including you in on this personal journey of self-discovery.

Who I thought I was and Who I seem to be

Quiet Vocal when necessary and sometimes more than that
Fairly transparent animated and thus easy to read
Good at doodling but not drawing Good at doodling and not all that interested in drawing
A reader Definitely a reader and quite possibly a writer
Not good enough for certain people Good enough for God
Obsessed with Dogs Lover of animals in general and not obsessed with dogs
Not a talented singer This one's actually true
Really annoying to most people probably annoying to some but if they don't like me they don't need to be around me
Not a very nice person. Blunt to the point of being rude Definitely blunt but not always rude
Laughs too much laughs a lot and that's okay as long as it isn't hiding other emotions
An average teacher a good teacher when I am focused and motivated
Not worth the time of others just as worthy as anyone else
Lover of all things purple I actually like purple but I also like pink, green, blue, and more
Lover of giraffes I do like giraffes but I also like horses, panda bears, lions, and more

Okay...so that's a start in determining the who-I-was-and-who-I-seem-t

o-be issue. Some of it (i.e. favorite color and favorite animal) is a little on the basic side, but at least it's a start. I have been trying to determine some things I should try with the potentially new, but still essentially the same, me. Some possibilities are:

- working with horses somewhere (volunteering)
- writing more often
- being outside more
- getting more exercise but not necessarily working out at a fitness center - just moving more
- not feeling like I have to be obsessed with one particular thing to have an identity
- not feeling like I need to be some sort of social chameleon to belong with different groups of people
- continuing to come up with new things to try

This is probably one of the lesser exciting posts about PTSD (not that the others are thrilling) but this is real. This is part of healing from PTSD. This is what I'm dealing with. It may seem trivial or not worth stressing over but it's where I'm at right now.

PTSD 5 - What a Bumpy Road

Gina is forever encouraging me to write during my bad times. I usually balk at the idea for several reasons. Who wants to read about my inner turmoil? What if writing about the junk that goes on in my head makes me worse? Someone could read this and realize that I should be committed. The list goes on. I’ll try to spare you each tiny detail of my busy brain’s inner workings.

I think my most recent bout with this un-nameable phenomenon began last Friday. I was looking forward to a fun filled weekend with my eleven-year-old best friends. Gina and I were to have eleven-year-old guests for the weekend as their parents were on a ski trip. I was a little nervous about the weekend because having PTSD makes me nervous about most things. This weekend also reminded me of the progress, or lack thereof, that I’ve made thus far. When the plans were made for the girls to stay with us I remember thinking, ‘Oh that’s weeks away. Surely I’ll be better by then.’ When Friday came and I was not 100% healed I did what I do best. I panicked. I was preparing a room for them and after realizing that I wasn’t completely better by my personal deadline I sat down and cried.

This PTSD episode began a little over three months ago. I know that math isn’t my strength, but if I am correct, by the end of February this crap has consumed about one-fourth of my year. I know I have made some significant steps since the beginning, but PTSD has so consumed my life. It is difficult for me to remember what my life was like just five months ago. I tried to remember this morning, but wound up feeling even worse about where I am now. I know that I spend a lot more time worrying. I also spend a lot more time suction-cupped to Gina’s behind (God bless her for her patience with me). I don’t allow myself to enjoy the little things. For some reason I have a hard time allowing myself to appreciate things that used to bring me so much joy. I used to love taking a nap in the middle of the day. I used to love going to Barnes and Noble just for the smell. I used to love daydreaming about adventures I might have in the future. Now I spend so much time being afraid of little things (that are magnified in my mind) that I don’t enjoy all that life offers. I used to daydream about grand adventures that involved traveling to other countries and experiencing all that God has provided. Now I worry that I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I would panic and not have my psychiatrist or my therapist five minutes away.

I have spent so much of my life daydreaming. When I was younger and times at home would get really bad, I would daydream my way out of that situation. I would be years older and in college or I would be on some sort of adventure with my reliable dog by my side. I would daydream myself into other families with comfort and safety. Most of my daydreams involved having parents (mainly a mother) that would sit down with me and tell me everything would be okay. Obviously, my daydreams got me through the hard times. Right now daydreaming is next to impossible. If I do manage to squeeze in a daydream my PTSD shoots it down; sometimes before I can even finish the thought. I suppose that is one of the hardest parts about having PTSD. My daydreams were my hopes. PTSD shoots down my hopes and I am left with my deflated dreams piling up around my Chuck Taylors.

One of my cheerleaders posts the most amazing quotes as her facebook status. It’s incredible how many people they touch. Her current status is a quote by Marcel Pagnol, “The reason people find it so hard to be happy is that they always see the past better than it was, the present worse than it is, and the future less resolved than it will be.” Oh do I see so much truth in that. For my birthday, Gina gave me a necklace that says “never never never give up.” It is a quote from Winston Churchill. I think that is a pretty decent philosophy at this point. That phrase came up in church yesterday as well. We were singing You Are My All in All written by Dennis Jernigan. One verse is,

“You are my strength when I am weak
You are the treasure that I seek
You are my all in all
Seeking You as a precious jewel
Lord, to give up I'd be a fool
You are my all in all”

I suppose what I can take from this is to keep pushing. When my days are filled with fears I can keep trying to get through to comfort and peace. When my days are full of tears I can remember that the Lord will fill my cup and I will move on. When daydreams just won’t come or PTSD shoots them down I will hold tight to God’s word that He will get me through. I will hold on to the thread of hope that one day I will be daydreaming again. For right now I plan to “never never never give up.”