Self-Reflection
The narrative of living with PTSD
In the mirror, I see the dance of time and self-perception. Freckles, legacies of sun-soaked days, dot my skin. My hair, styled and sun-bleached, rebels with a frizzy will. I notice the signs of time's passage - the thinning of my lips, the laugh lines cradling my sparkling blue eyes, marked by a rogue dimple on my left cheek. I am the person in the mirror, yet also not. The reflection is my future self, my mind tethered to the past, creating a disorienting dichotomy.
No one understands my life with Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). A scent, sound, or place can trigger harrowing memories. In those moments, an inexplicable pain consumes me; my skin prickles with dread, my ears ring, and my body burns. Anger erupts, igniting my surroundings.
What amplifies the trauma is my realization that my brain was never 'normal.' There was a constant undercurrent of pain, alienation, and shame. I suppressed my emotions to appease others, teaching my brain to disregard my needs. My desires remain in a transparent space in the recesses of my brain, yearning for acknowledgment.
About the Creator
A Lady with a Pen
Caroline Robertson's, books are beloved by both adults and children alike for their illustrations and engaging stories. She takes readers on an adventure, giving them the opportunity to explore different cultures, settings, and characters.
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Revert
We need a contingency plan. The world is burning. Democracy is too unstable. We need a monarchy and reliable succession. He had drafted the legislation. The cost of living was absurd. People were suffering because politicians could not agree, too busy fighting to realize that the public services, our safe gaps, were failing.
By A Lady with a Pen12 months ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This is very timely, incredibly powerful and well penned. I am sorry it is something you need to deal with!