The piece of the PTSD that seems to affect me the most these days is the “exposure” thing. People with PTSD feel as if they have a painted target on them and so want rather desperately to be below the radar, any radar.
Cleaning the house, working on the cleaning plan, working on the memoir, ummm, and writing this blog all lean on this. So did the 10,000+ items out annually. Sometimes I can overcome it; sometimes I can’t.
It just is.
The only way I know to deal with this is to just bull ahead, as much as I’m able. I’m doing way better than I used to. In the bad old days the idea of living in a uncluttered, clean house would throw me into a panic attack. These days, I can clean just fine, losing the clutter is going to be the bugaboo, and we think we have a plan for that too.
But still. . . I do things like I’ve done 3 times now . . . and “lose” the manuscript for the memoir. Yesterday I finally found the printout, but then lost my reading glasses. I just smiled and did what I could without the glasses. And when I found them again read the two or three things I hadn’t been able to before. But it’s that sort of thing. My brain fights me.
I’ve been having nightmares for the past two weeks or so, I expect this will continue for some time. It’s apparently a bleed valve I need, so be it. I don’t remember them, but it does disrupt my sleep. So instead of getting up at 6:30, this morning it was 8:30 before I finally rolled out of bed and I felt as if I needed another 2 hours, or more.
The unconscious things my brain does are the main reason that I can’t “just ignore” the PTSD. I’m not where I need multiple anxiety meds, a dog, etc. but I have the same disorder. It shows up in weird and interesting ways: these days in nightmares and “losing” things.