Hello. My name is Bob, and I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Please forgive the formal “AA” introduction.
PTSD is a bitch. I live my days in fear of the next bad thing that will happen. Every second I am alive is another second I have to be on guard for the next. It never seems to end.
I constantly live in “fight or flight” mode. I try very hard to relax, and remember that the bad things I had to do to survive pale in comparison to the good things I've done as a parent. A husband. A human.
I am hyper aware. Always. My senses never seem to want to turn off, and even sleep sometimes seems impossible. I often feel satisfied if I can sleep more than two hours a day.
Sometimes I cannot get out of bed because of my alarm clock. It will start beeping, and pull me out of one of the many nightmares I see over and over in my head. Sometimes I will slam it instinctively, throw it, or just unplug it as I cry myself back to sleep.
These responses I have – they are because I am angry. And that anger, it stems from fear.
I drink. All the time. It numbs the fear. It seems to be the only thing that allows me to relax. To be the person I want to be, not the person I am. I don't want to drink all the time. But I can't take being afraid all of the time. So I pick my poison.
As a scientist with PTSD, I tend to respond to my fight or flight instinct with my brain. I work very hard to spot conflicts before they occur, and do my best as a pacifist to diffuse any bad tension. I will sometimes lie, boldly, if I feel it can bring me the peace so necessary in my life.
When I am able to obtain moments of clarity, I try dubiously to seek clear and sane answers to what is obviously an opaque problem. I stare blankly into a mirror and don't even recognize the man looking back at me. He seems so angry.
Every day I seem to have more questions than I do answers regarding PTSD. I've spent years researching the topic. Talking to people who also suffer from this terrible ailment. Reading. Sharing. Trying to find a place in a world that does not seem to have a place for me anymore.
I'm starting to run out of hope that I will ever be able to readjust and be...normal. Or at least be me again. I'm posting this because I am hoping some of you may be able to help me. I thank you so much for any assistance.
PTSD is a bitch. I live my days in fear of the next bad thing that will happen. Every second I am alive is another second I have to be on guard for the next. It never seems to end.
I constantly live in “fight or flight” mode. I try very hard to relax, and remember that the bad things I had to do to survive pale in comparison to the good things I've done as a parent. A husband. A human.
I am hyper aware. Always. My senses never seem to want to turn off, and even sleep sometimes seems impossible. I often feel satisfied if I can sleep more than two hours a day.
Sometimes I cannot get out of bed because of my alarm clock. It will start beeping, and pull me out of one of the many nightmares I see over and over in my head. Sometimes I will slam it instinctively, throw it, or just unplug it as I cry myself back to sleep.
These responses I have – they are because I am angry. And that anger, it stems from fear.
I drink. All the time. It numbs the fear. It seems to be the only thing that allows me to relax. To be the person I want to be, not the person I am. I don't want to drink all the time. But I can't take being afraid all of the time. So I pick my poison.
As a scientist with PTSD, I tend to respond to my fight or flight instinct with my brain. I work very hard to spot conflicts before they occur, and do my best as a pacifist to diffuse any bad tension. I will sometimes lie, boldly, if I feel it can bring me the peace so necessary in my life.
When I am able to obtain moments of clarity, I try dubiously to seek clear and sane answers to what is obviously an opaque problem. I stare blankly into a mirror and don't even recognize the man looking back at me. He seems so angry.
Every day I seem to have more questions than I do answers regarding PTSD. I've spent years researching the topic. Talking to people who also suffer from this terrible ailment. Reading. Sharing. Trying to find a place in a world that does not seem to have a place for me anymore.
I'm starting to run out of hope that I will ever be able to readjust and be...normal. Or at least be me again. I'm posting this because I am hoping some of you may be able to help me. I thank you so much for any assistance.