Then there was silence… for three years!
Something happened. Obviously. I couldn’t talk about it.
I still find it hard to talk about some of it. I have discovered that I am insanely scared of exposing my vulnerabilities to certain people; I’m afraid of repercussions. My experience tells me that when I let the shield down, the knife goes in. It is ingrained in me. I help you and… I’m fine.
Then silence happened. I feel a need to communicate the journey of the past three years – it is a way for me to work through fear. I am provoking myself with ‘truth or dare’. No. Truth AND Dare. Both. There are some serious patterns I need to break and I am determined (and afraid). Here goes:
I broke. In a million pieces. I can never be reassembled to what I was before; neither do I want to be. I’m just letting you know that the pieces are still shattered and the glue isn’t dry yet.
- I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
- I have had PTSD since I was in my early teens.
- I sincerely do not know why I have PTSD (doctor says it doesn’t matter).
- This time PTSD almost killed me. I was extremely ill for 6 months, but kept it a secret.
- Today PTSD governs my life. I have no choice.
There is, of course, LOTS more to say. All you need to know for now is that I am happy and that all the choices I have made in the past 2 years are because of PTSD, not despite.
Like moving to Papua New Guinea. Yep. No longer in Cairns. Now Mr Husband and I are in Port Moresby. More about that another day.