I won a fantastic short break to the Ice Hotel in Romania. One of the things I've always wanted to do, and it was as beautiful, and magical (and COLD) as I'd imagined.
On the third day, on the coach, the rep put on the film Lone Survivor. (IMDB says "This movie is non-stop action and violence from 15 minutes in until the end, with emotional deaths and frightening situations") As soon as she said it was a bit violent I knew it would be unsuitable for me, but thought I'd be able to sleep through it. I was wrong. I ended up in the well leading down to the central exit, wrapped into the smallest ball I could be, fingers insufficiently stuck in my ears, tears and snot streaming down for what seemed like an eternity.
As soon as we stopped at a petrol station I ran for cover, and ended up behind a remote shed, clinging to a stack of pallets, shivering and locked solid, unable to move. My husband found me, said the film was disgusting and he'd hated seeing it too. The rep found us and said why hadn't I said. Because there were 28 others on the bus who liked watching people being maimed and killed. Not that I could speak to say that. She was very apologetic. I was terrified to get back on the bus, and initially refused to.
I feel so guilty and ashamed. My PTSD has nothing to do with combat, and almost no violence. I can only think it was the trapped and powerless thing. But I shouldn't have reacted like that . I should have been able to control myself. I almost never cry - the last time was probably 11 months ago - and I usually stop within seconds of starting. I had no right to make a fuss like that.
Two days later I feel like a shell of myself, going through the motions. I could barely reply to my daughters instant messaging this morning. She and others will want to know how the holiday was, and I want it to go away. It's a good reminder of why crying is such a bad thing for me. I'm starting to shiver just writing this.
On the third day, on the coach, the rep put on the film Lone Survivor. (IMDB says "This movie is non-stop action and violence from 15 minutes in until the end, with emotional deaths and frightening situations") As soon as she said it was a bit violent I knew it would be unsuitable for me, but thought I'd be able to sleep through it. I was wrong. I ended up in the well leading down to the central exit, wrapped into the smallest ball I could be, fingers insufficiently stuck in my ears, tears and snot streaming down for what seemed like an eternity.
As soon as we stopped at a petrol station I ran for cover, and ended up behind a remote shed, clinging to a stack of pallets, shivering and locked solid, unable to move. My husband found me, said the film was disgusting and he'd hated seeing it too. The rep found us and said why hadn't I said. Because there were 28 others on the bus who liked watching people being maimed and killed. Not that I could speak to say that. She was very apologetic. I was terrified to get back on the bus, and initially refused to.
I feel so guilty and ashamed. My PTSD has nothing to do with combat, and almost no violence. I can only think it was the trapped and powerless thing. But I shouldn't have reacted like that . I should have been able to control myself. I almost never cry - the last time was probably 11 months ago - and I usually stop within seconds of starting. I had no right to make a fuss like that.
Two days later I feel like a shell of myself, going through the motions. I could barely reply to my daughters instant messaging this morning. She and others will want to know how the holiday was, and I want it to go away. It's a good reminder of why crying is such a bad thing for me. I'm starting to shiver just writing this.
