I frighten myself sometimes. Not in a, I’m going to shoot up the place, kind of fear, but more of how I’ve handled the tradegies in my life. The paths I might take. Who I’ve slowly become as a person. Having PTSD is something you either have to live with or you something that takes you out earlyon. I found out last week that a friend of mine didn’t die from medical complications that we were all told. No, he killed himself. And it broke my heart.
I was happy to hear the truth and to see how much his ex wife had loved him. I had always thought it was a shame how they divorced, but they stayed such close friends. My experience of that was nothing but the opposite. My ex couldn’t have cared less if I lived or died and made me out to be a monster with everyone around us. I wish I had that type of support. My healing wouldn’t have started much earlier.
Like I said before, PTSD is something you have to learn to live with if you want to survive. There are some days I slowly feel myself slipping. The dark thoughts always crawl into my head. Some days I feel like the only thing keeping me grounded are my sons. I love them so much it hurts being away from them. When they tell me all the crap they have to deal with at their mothers and what her boyfriend tells them it almost sends me into a rage. However, I just stay quiet. I listen and I give the best advice that I can.
I’ve suffered so much this past decade. I’ve tried to hide it, I’ve tried to pretend it was never real and it only made it worse trying to use everything I could to mask it. However, the strange this is I’ve never been this happy either. Suffering is sometimes needed though.