Fuck this PTSD

The nightmares are getting strong again.  He was back last night.  The worst part about the last couple of vivid nightmares is that I have turned violent in them.  In the dreams I am angry and tired of being abused.  I become violent on people or animals.  I have had dreams of fighting as a child before.  But these dreams are me aware that I am becoming violent, that the behavior is “bad” and yet I choose to keep going.  When I wake I struggle to process why I would dream that I punched someone, literally beat the shit out of a woman or that I hit my dog.  I cringe at some of the images that are now stuck in my mind.

Doctor increased my meds effective last night.  I am not impressed thus far.  It’s one night and I would prefer an instant fix please……. Damn still no instant cure for PTSD from a pill.  Bummer.  I think I just needed to say that.

Fuck you PTSD.  You may be capable of giving me horrid nightmares (for now) but you will not rule my day.  Today is my birthday and I am driving to Rockaway Beach to see my parents.  So fuck you.  PTSD sucks ass but my life does not! Cover image is proof.  Yep, I saw Van Halen this Summer!!!

My life rocks because I make damn sure of it.  Have a great day! 

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I have peaceĀ 

Life is like a box of chocolates.  You never know what ya’ gonna get.

This is how it has felt to be for the last…… awhile now.  Years maybe.  I’ve spent the last two plus years in consistent therapy.   I have laughed hard, cried and I have experienced a snap.  I’ve been triggered and I have fought my way back to sanity and calm.  And for the last over 30+ days I have experienced withdrawal from Opiate pain medication.  Which is something I have feared, avoided and always knew I would one day face.  I still carry a couple days supply on me at all times.  The fear that the pain that makes me weep in a corner, will one day without warning reach up and grab me by the hair pulling me to the ground kicking and screaming.   Thr fear that it will come back with a vengeance still holds on within me.  If you have never known chronic pain I can not explain it to you and I hope you never find out what I am talking about.  But if you are here reading you probably already understand.

How do I possibly explain the last couple of months?  It wasn’t planned.  I mean I didn’t pick a day and say I quit Vicodin.  I have been seeing a Chiropractor and receiving decompression therapy twice to three times a week consistently for eight months.  As soon as I could begin to stretch I started doing Yoga via my iPad at home alone.  I hated it.  Yoga alone made me feel like a piece of fat shit and often made me self hate for awhile afterwards.  Yet I knew I needed to be doing it so I forced myself.  I quickly found that I would rather do some basic yoga stretches outside before and after my walks then I would alone in my living room.  SO I started stretching.  A lot.  Fuck what anyone thinks, I told myself.  I’m in horrid pain and they don’t have to live with it.

Then two things happened that signaled I was on the right path.  A woman walked into my life with grace and ease like I’ve never really experienced before.  There was and remains zero effort to having in her in my life and heart.  She is among many things, a yoga instructor who has healed her back and now manages her Fibromyalgia and MS with yoga and nutrition.  I listened and asked for the space to do it alone before with her.  Then number two was a gift I will always be grateful for.  I went to our regional camp out.  I went to Yoga every morning in the sun with some of the most beautiful people I have ever met.  Super hippies I lovingly call them.  B (my now partner) joined me for the weekend and I walked easily into yoga right next to her.  The instructor was like a gift from the gods.  His voice calm and soothing all the while reassuring everyone that yoga is about health and taking care of yourself.  Let me be blunt.  As a fat woman in chronic pain with a life changing injury in my back the difference between the philosophy of yoga and pounding yourself with weights and exercise until you puke is overwhelmingly refreshing.  In Yoga class I am consistently reminded that if my jaw is clenched I am not getting it, if there is pain I should back off and that I should always be able to take a controlled inhale and exhale at a slow count to five.  As soon as I got home I joined a local yoga studio and found the same teaching.  There are countless styles and poses but the philosophy remains and it has clicked with my soul.

So when I realized that I was approaching three days without reaching for a Vicodin I made a choice to try Ibuprofen and ice.  I have experienced shooting pain and spasms that would usually result in my reaching for the Vicodin.  I have chosen otherwise and thus far it is manageable.  Am I in pain?  Yes I am.  Is it still interrupting my life?  Yes daily.  Sometimes after Yoga I still have to pack my hips in ice and my back needs it daily.  But I have to confess I didn’t know how fogged in my brain had become from the opiates until I began to come out of it.

I spend a lot of time sitting in clarity and marveling at where I have come.  I am in pain and the nightmares are slowly returning.  Yet I have peace.  I have worries of life and daily tasks.  Yet I have peace.  I am tired all the time.  Yet I have peace.  I’m in love.  I’m not afraid of her.  I don’t worry that it will end or she will betray me.  I trust her.  I have peace. 

Pic is at camp.