Hello everyone.
But from there on? What to say? Nightmares that make me puke, the heart running faster faster fasterfasterFASTER... That wire stuck in my chest, sometimes hidden even from me - only to tense harder harder harderharderHARDER until there is no breath left, though obviously still breathing. The flashbacks hanging over my head like a storm cloud - FLASH the lightning strikes so sudden and the thunder crumbles my mind. And I bet that if you saw me on a bus, you wouldn't look twice - nothing shows. Just my hands being 0 degrees Kelvin due to adrenaline, body sweating from tension.
By now I'm so incredibly sick of walking with my feet stuck in burning ice-glue, mind in a monstrous spin. Sometimes I find a little moment of bliss, when my mind is still, calm, quiet, content. Whenever I feel that I try to memorize the moment, so I can remember it all those other moments in life, when I feel covered in tar and feathers, whipped and beaten. The scars on my body are just a tiny bruise compared with my mind (looking worse than Frankenstein's monster).
Or is it about the anger, rage - hate? Fun fact I've noticed; people will always try to not see that this is pure, true hate. When they can no longer avoid the void they get flustered, scared, revolted, insecure, angry, scared. But I'm not Ted Kazscinsky only because I feel hate. It's the companion always shrinking or growing. As tiny it's only a constant annoyance at life, universe and everything else. At it's worst I find myself thinking... Well, not okay stuff. But you'd never see it even if you watched a mile into my eyes. And I always try my hardest to be kind, non-judgemental. Important in life - my scars never gives me the right to deal out scars.
I guess that I would be a great spy, since I can hide my thoughts and feelings so expertly. I've also gotten very, very good at lying inpromptu. Not sure that is a proud skill, though.
I try to meditate twice a day, and use a ptsd app from US Dep. for vets. But no "expert treatment". Just no trust available. But perhaps, remaining nameless here I'll be able to speak and remain silent. Silence, alone silence is safety.
H.S. stands for Homo Sapiens. It's about as "no-name" as I could imagine.
I just hope that somebody will say something. I just hope that there is anyone who understands jumping a mile high at unexpected loud sounds, fearing to look the fool. I just hope anyone else lives alone on the moon like I do.
But from there on? What to say? Nightmares that make me puke, the heart running faster faster fasterfasterFASTER... That wire stuck in my chest, sometimes hidden even from me - only to tense harder harder harderharderHARDER until there is no breath left, though obviously still breathing. The flashbacks hanging over my head like a storm cloud - FLASH the lightning strikes so sudden and the thunder crumbles my mind. And I bet that if you saw me on a bus, you wouldn't look twice - nothing shows. Just my hands being 0 degrees Kelvin due to adrenaline, body sweating from tension.
By now I'm so incredibly sick of walking with my feet stuck in burning ice-glue, mind in a monstrous spin. Sometimes I find a little moment of bliss, when my mind is still, calm, quiet, content. Whenever I feel that I try to memorize the moment, so I can remember it all those other moments in life, when I feel covered in tar and feathers, whipped and beaten. The scars on my body are just a tiny bruise compared with my mind (looking worse than Frankenstein's monster).
Or is it about the anger, rage - hate? Fun fact I've noticed; people will always try to not see that this is pure, true hate. When they can no longer avoid the void they get flustered, scared, revolted, insecure, angry, scared. But I'm not Ted Kazscinsky only because I feel hate. It's the companion always shrinking or growing. As tiny it's only a constant annoyance at life, universe and everything else. At it's worst I find myself thinking... Well, not okay stuff. But you'd never see it even if you watched a mile into my eyes. And I always try my hardest to be kind, non-judgemental. Important in life - my scars never gives me the right to deal out scars.
I guess that I would be a great spy, since I can hide my thoughts and feelings so expertly. I've also gotten very, very good at lying inpromptu. Not sure that is a proud skill, though.
I try to meditate twice a day, and use a ptsd app from US Dep. for vets. But no "expert treatment". Just no trust available. But perhaps, remaining nameless here I'll be able to speak and remain silent. Silence, alone silence is safety.
H.S. stands for Homo Sapiens. It's about as "no-name" as I could imagine.
I just hope that somebody will say something. I just hope that there is anyone who understands jumping a mile high at unexpected loud sounds, fearing to look the fool. I just hope anyone else lives alone on the moon like I do.
