I find it easy, at times, to feel normal. To be as I use to be; able to handle situations and circumstances that I should be able to handle. And then something happens and the walls of my glass house comes tumbling down.
My wife was doing our taxes and she asked if I wanted the good news or the bad news first? All it took was for me to hear bad news and my anxiety level rocketed up. Fortunately I was able to maintain, but it still shook me.
It made me realize that I am still living in this glass house. The walls seem strong an secure, but they are really made of a fragile material that can shatter as the smallest sign of trouble. I don't like being this fragile. I want to be strong.
I hate how PTSD has done this to me. I don't like being fragile. I don't like it that anxiety is right around the corner just waiting to attack and leave me shattered.
One thing I believe, one thing I know is one day I will be strong again, but until then I will continue to live in this glass house.
My wife was doing our taxes and she asked if I wanted the good news or the bad news first? All it took was for me to hear bad news and my anxiety level rocketed up. Fortunately I was able to maintain, but it still shook me.
It made me realize that I am still living in this glass house. The walls seem strong an secure, but they are really made of a fragile material that can shatter as the smallest sign of trouble. I don't like being this fragile. I want to be strong.
I hate how PTSD has done this to me. I don't like being fragile. I don't like it that anxiety is right around the corner just waiting to attack and leave me shattered.
One thing I believe, one thing I know is one day I will be strong again, but until then I will continue to live in this glass house.