One last post tonight to put myself at ease and to experience my own unburdening with the hopes of then falling into a restful sleep.
I have been sitting alone in the living room for the last hour writing. Normally I enjoy this quiet time; just me and the house and my tea and my thoughts. Normally. Sometimes though when I sit alone at night in my living room my PTSD creeps up on me, an unwelcome guest crashing my party, here to terrify me until I can barely breathe.
It started with a noise.
Was that a knock at the door? It can’t be, what time is it? No it’s much too late.. Then what was that noise?
Get up, heart pounding, stomach has already dropped out, adrenaline pumping. Walk into the bedroom;
Babe? Was that you?..
Oh it wasn’t? Then did you hear that?..
Oh you didn’t?.. Well I am sure I heard a knocking..
No but you don’t understand, I am sure I heard a knocking..
Okay, you’re probably right..
Return to my nest on the couch. Continue writing, but not without first enlisting the company of my trusty guard dog.
It was nothing. It was nothing.
Check to make sure the doors are locked..
It was nothing. You are safe. You are alone. You are safe. It was nothing.
Sit back on the couch continue writing.
Hear a knocking. Look at the dog. She didn’t react.
It was nothing. She would have reacted. She would have barked. It was nothing. You are safe. You are alone. You are safe.
You are alone. You are alone. You are alone. It is dark. You are alone.
You are okay. You are okay.
Feel a bump on the couch. All systems on red alert. Heightened sense of hearing and touch. Aware of every inch of your surroundings. Listen… Listen…. Listen… Nothing.
Look at the dog. She didn’t react.
What was that? I am sure I felt something. Is there a monster under the couch?
You are not a child. Monsters are not real.
How do you know?
Try to convince the dog to come sit on the couch by you.
Come here baby.. C’mon.. Come here honey.
Give up. She is not moving. Continue writing.
No more noises. Heart rate back to normal. Menacing thoughts silence. Ability to focus restored. Sense of safety restored.
Normally I enjoy this quiet time; just me and the house and my tea and my thoughts.