Hi Mom.
Thanks for the cute card! It made me smile. I hope you have received yours?
It would be lovely to have you visit in August. I miss you very much.
I am currently homeless and on borrowed time at the condo, so my future housing is extremely unsure. Hopefully all will go smoothly, even though it never does, and I will find a home with an actual bed for my mom to sleep on.
Also, obviously, I still have a lot on my plate and housing while crucial is not the top priority of the moment. So, as a personal request, one not meant to offend, so if it does my apology, I am beyond fragile, exhausted and overwhelmed. Those phases passed some time ago and now I reside in an abyss outside this atmosphere, for which there isn't name. I have no room for obvious and legitimate criticisms. I must reserve all small drops in order to survive and I do not communicate this frivolously. I have no room.
While I graciously understand the judgement of others over recent years, I also have gained educated judgments of my own, as my knowledge about ptsd has significantly increased. There is no accident that I am 400 miles from those closest to me and those recently most distant from me. I am on a no holds barred, last wind effort to pull through my legitimate and completely normal shift in mental health. Unfortunately, like all mental illness, I have been extremely misunderstood, blamed and discarded, forgetting my god given nature as one of the brightest and most centered people I know. This is common in our society, but popularity doesn't make it moral or acceptable.
So while many assume I cower in the caves out of humiliation regarding my behavior, it would be more accurate that I reside in solitude seeking refuge from the attack of enemy forces once regarded as allies.
It would be unfair for you to visit without arming yourself with some sort of knowledge about the shift in my focus. While previously suggested, I would highly recommend your familiarity and study of ptsd and cptsd before we spend time together. This is a subject with much press for which you and Bill must regularly see in the media. PTSD is no joke and is the only situation I have experienced which brings any coping mechanism trained or learned to a puddle at my feet. If you doubt my stability in accurately reporting this to you, even a slight dip in the pool of research should resolve this doubt. Big men, mean, macho and educated ones are now writing about and acknowledging the severity of ptsd on the human psyche. This of course is a result of the militaries investment in finding the cure so troops can return to duty endlessly, instead of blowing their brains out, as they are in record numbers.
So don't believe me, please, believe the research.
You are a wonderful person and one of the most important people in my life. Our lack or contact has effected me deeply. But, while endlessly generous and absolutely exhausting your greatest efforts with me, you have chosen not to fall back on your education as a therapist or the endless articles available to your professorial spouse, something which might have helped the horror I am facing and the horror I have caused others to face. My sadness in this is the lack of faith in my innate capabilities as a valuable member of the human race.
Have you ever wondered how the person you know as your daughter evaporated and where she might have gone?
This question is on the right track although it is my experience that Life Is Too Short for others to delve into darkness they are not forced to smell, face pressed to the feces. For this I am saddened by my innocence lost and the solitude gained by the rarity of this necessity.
So honestly mom, this is nothing personal, in fact it is oddly general. I will not, and do not tolerate blame, ignorance or rose colored glasses worn for fun, while I am judged and criticized without an immense arsenal of knowledge backing these claims.
My Life is Too Short.
Thanks for the cute card! It made me smile. I hope you have received yours?
It would be lovely to have you visit in August. I miss you very much.
I am currently homeless and on borrowed time at the condo, so my future housing is extremely unsure. Hopefully all will go smoothly, even though it never does, and I will find a home with an actual bed for my mom to sleep on.
Also, obviously, I still have a lot on my plate and housing while crucial is not the top priority of the moment. So, as a personal request, one not meant to offend, so if it does my apology, I am beyond fragile, exhausted and overwhelmed. Those phases passed some time ago and now I reside in an abyss outside this atmosphere, for which there isn't name. I have no room for obvious and legitimate criticisms. I must reserve all small drops in order to survive and I do not communicate this frivolously. I have no room.
While I graciously understand the judgement of others over recent years, I also have gained educated judgments of my own, as my knowledge about ptsd has significantly increased. There is no accident that I am 400 miles from those closest to me and those recently most distant from me. I am on a no holds barred, last wind effort to pull through my legitimate and completely normal shift in mental health. Unfortunately, like all mental illness, I have been extremely misunderstood, blamed and discarded, forgetting my god given nature as one of the brightest and most centered people I know. This is common in our society, but popularity doesn't make it moral or acceptable.
So while many assume I cower in the caves out of humiliation regarding my behavior, it would be more accurate that I reside in solitude seeking refuge from the attack of enemy forces once regarded as allies.
It would be unfair for you to visit without arming yourself with some sort of knowledge about the shift in my focus. While previously suggested, I would highly recommend your familiarity and study of ptsd and cptsd before we spend time together. This is a subject with much press for which you and Bill must regularly see in the media. PTSD is no joke and is the only situation I have experienced which brings any coping mechanism trained or learned to a puddle at my feet. If you doubt my stability in accurately reporting this to you, even a slight dip in the pool of research should resolve this doubt. Big men, mean, macho and educated ones are now writing about and acknowledging the severity of ptsd on the human psyche. This of course is a result of the militaries investment in finding the cure so troops can return to duty endlessly, instead of blowing their brains out, as they are in record numbers.
So don't believe me, please, believe the research.
You are a wonderful person and one of the most important people in my life. Our lack or contact has effected me deeply. But, while endlessly generous and absolutely exhausting your greatest efforts with me, you have chosen not to fall back on your education as a therapist or the endless articles available to your professorial spouse, something which might have helped the horror I am facing and the horror I have caused others to face. My sadness in this is the lack of faith in my innate capabilities as a valuable member of the human race.
Have you ever wondered how the person you know as your daughter evaporated and where she might have gone?
This question is on the right track although it is my experience that Life Is Too Short for others to delve into darkness they are not forced to smell, face pressed to the feces. For this I am saddened by my innocence lost and the solitude gained by the rarity of this necessity.
So honestly mom, this is nothing personal, in fact it is oddly general. I will not, and do not tolerate blame, ignorance or rose colored glasses worn for fun, while I am judged and criticized without an immense arsenal of knowledge backing these claims.
My Life is Too Short.
