Just a typical Saturday morning. So I thought. It was sunny outside, blistering cold I’m sure, but it was nice to have the sun shine through my bedroom window. Yet, I just didn’t feel right. Something was off. I didn’t feel like myself at all. My forecast for the day, partly sunny with a patch of fog. That’s the life of someone who has PTSD. sometimes we have days where we just feel out of it. Sometimes we know the triggers, other days we can’t seem to grasp what caused us to feel this way. That was what this episode was for me. I couldn’t pinpoint it. I couldn’t figure out why I was feeling the way I was feeling and because I didn’t know I actually became angry at myself.
I didn’t share my feelings right away. How could I get guidance with something I couldn’t yet describe? I was in a funk the whole weekend. I felt weird, I felt out of place. I knew that this wasn’t me. I was super sensitive to anything and just about everything someone said to me. I was an emotional wreck. At one point Sunday evening I just couldn’t take the feelings anymore. I began crying.
It wasn’t until Sunday evening where I was able to break it down. Thankfully I have an amazing support system to walk me through it. We were able to talk about what I was feeling and even understand that there will possibly be other days like this. I remember at one point during our talk, I got really mad at myself. I felt like because I was having an episode, that I had given my ex another victory over me. Like as if I was still his prisoner in my own mind. I was mad at the fact that I would have to always deal with having PTSD while he is probably living life Scott free.
During this talk, I was told that that was not necessarily the case. Although my PTSD is a result of the abuse I suffered from my ex, my episodes don’t give him anything. Definitely not a victory.
I had to come to terms with the fact that this is something that comes along with my PTSD. It was reassuring knowing that this person still sticks by my side even during my ugliest moments. Knowing that they don’t completely understand it yet they do their best and are willing to be there for me meant more to me than I could ever possibly begin to describe. Now if these foggy episodes were to happen more frequently, then that is where professional counseling would come in. Maybe even more so now before it were to ever get to that point. It is good to be able to have someone to talk to, sometimes we do not want to share every little thing we go through or are feeling with those who are close to us.
I am a work in progress. I am learning new triggers and new ways to cope and get through them. I am learning even more about PTSD on a more personal level. I used to be ashamed and a little embarrassed to admit having PTSD. I cannot be ashamed of something that is a part of me. In the end, if people find out I do have it there is only two things they can do. 1) Love me through it. Or 2) keep it moving! There is nothing to be ashamed of, especially your past! Your past is a testament of your strength. Your scars are your story of victory! It is okay to have a day that is partly cloudy with a patch of fog. As long as we don’t allow the fog to thicken and consume us!