After another night of horrifying nightmares, I woke up too traumatized to live a halfway normal day. I couldn't leave the house, let alone get behind the wheel of a car.
It is now nearly 5:30pm, and I am now feeling a mild depression come on, which sometimes happens when the level of trauma is as deep as it has been today. I'm feeling sad and angry that, yet, another day of my life was wasted and forfeited to PTSD. I'm 62, so every day at this juncture of counts more than ever, as I can't guarantee how my body will treat me henceforth.
Actually, I'm real pissed off. I hate this crap. I did nothing to deserve it and feel super f*cked by life. This just reinforces why the concept of God sickens me, and it does, although that was not always the case when I was younger.
It is now nearly 5:30pm, and I am now feeling a mild depression come on, which sometimes happens when the level of trauma is as deep as it has been today. I'm feeling sad and angry that, yet, another day of my life was wasted and forfeited to PTSD. I'm 62, so every day at this juncture of counts more than ever, as I can't guarantee how my body will treat me henceforth.
Actually, I'm real pissed off. I hate this crap. I did nothing to deserve it and feel super f*cked by life. This just reinforces why the concept of God sickens me, and it does, although that was not always the case when I was younger.