The thing that is I wish were not...

There are so very many things that I cannot face, I cannot touch.  Just as you might jerk your hand away from a hot burner on a stove, so I jerk, recoil, flee things in my life and in my past.  Whole things.  Big things.  And the smallest of moments.

There are far too many initials in my life.  Ones I should be proud of, but are most often ignored. Ones that seem to define me, but should not. A new set I try to pretend are not, but are.

PTSD.  Such a conundrum. Pretending doesn't work.  Not at all. 

I find it to be like I am held hostage.  Or maybe like walking through a maze.  Or perhaps like dodging enemy fire as I seek safety.  Really, it's all of that and more.  And more.  And lonely.

Today, out of the blue, only for a reason known, I started having a panic attack.  A gasp.  Whole body tremors.  Struggle to breathe.  Racing heart. Terror.  Being swallowed whole by darkness and confusion.  Suffocating. Drowning.  Exploding.  Because of whom I was with, I was able to navigate past the moment far better than usual.  Only, just like my asthma attacks, I have been hit with after shocks each time my mind returns to that moment. The panic wells within and I fight it back with my whole being.  I am scared.  Amos is tired of me clutching him.

I have tried to keep busy. I have spent time whacking bushes, scrubbing dishes, doing puzzles, watching television, hanging out on Facebook.  I have also gasped, had my heart begin to race, and tears slip down my cheeks as abject fear washed over me.

One more time. One more time to talk. One more time to have the fractured pieces of my life, my heart, my mind bound by another.  And then six weeks.  Six weeks of sitting and waiting and trembling and battling...alone....

I am a wimp.  I know this.  I have not hidden the fact.  Of course, my wimpiness has been like an onion of late...one layer of weakness revealed after another.  A veritable abyss of wimpiness.  I've known for months that this day was coming, this time.  I've known it would be hard.  In truth, I have not been able to fathom getting through it, but I knew it was coming and worked at getting ready. 

Smells. Touch.  Sounds.  That is what usually sets me off.  Today, it was words.  Trying to speak of the hiatus.  Caught off guard. Dropped to my knees by a sucker punch by our foe heretofore experienced. I thought I knew how hard this is going to be.  I did not.  I did not.  Lord, have mercy...I did not.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!