My first experience with severe ptsd as an adult was trying to save a man with CPR but failing. I have to agree that the smell sticks with you. It was the smell I couldn’t move past, it was in the air for over a year and made me distraught. I can still smell it when I think of it.
As a child, neglected and babysitting myself by 3, until recently I felt panic about abandonment in the death of anyone I loved, especially my pets, they truly are my main life line.
I have attempted death once and woke up being beaten in the lock down ward. That death was exactly like my life, harmed.
But once I got out, I felt rested for the first time in years. It’s like I exhaled.
I’m sick too and know I will not live as lengthy as some. Also as a result of it and the ptsd from assault, I surely don’t live as fully as I once did and others I know. This saddens me daily.
My dad died 4 months ago and I’m ok. Truly OK. I said and did everything I needed to, the timing was perfect, he abandoned me in the middle of his commitment as always.
My greatest fear/truth since this trauma and isolation, realistically my body won’t be found for many weeks. So lately I am focused on what I need to do to leave that meaning I crave.
Similar to saying everything I needed to my father, I have dropped the ball in doing everything I need for myself. I have notes on my refrigerator asking myself what it is I need to say, here, in this mess of a world, while I’m still alive.
I’m no longer hoping that meaning will come for somewhere
