Medication

My therapist felt I should talk to a doctor. My truama has run so deep for so long that it has become an integral part of who I am and how I feel. Therapy was bringing out what I lived though and it fucking hurt. All.the.time.

It was an ache in my chest that my whole body felt. Real crushing, physical pain.

I was prescribed an anti-depressant and an "emergency use" anxiety medication. 

I hate needing it. I hate that my mother hurt me so badly I need medication to even work through therapy. I hate that a loud noise or raised voice can send me right into fight or flight. A cabinet door or dropped plate are not going to hurt me...and yet they do.  I have been so anxious and depressed for so long that I don't even know what normal feels like. 

I have never not been hurt.

I went to the doctor for my kids. I want them to have the best part of me. I fight against my own pain every day to be the best me I can be for them. I hate my mother for being so horrible to me. I have no idea how to be a good mother. I only know what a bad mother does.

I study other moms. I read parenting books. I "like" parenting pages on FB in an effort to make sure I am not screwing up my kids. 

How wonderful it must be to have been raised by a loving mother. 

Night is the Worst

PTSD is having your subconscious mind always on high alert. No matter what is going on around you, your mind thinks you are still fighting to survive. No time is this more apparent than at night when your mind uses dreams to remind you that nothing is safe. Your most loved things lie dead in front of you. You freeze. Guns won't shoot. Legs won't run. Just when you finally get the gun loaded and aimed, what you are shooting at disappears leaving you to wonder when it will be back and if you will be ready for it this time.

No one has to hit you to wreck your head. Words work just fine.