Working Through PTSD


Three years ago I don’t know that I could fully understand what that meant.

Today, I feel like I should show a cycle of PTSD for me. (Skip the next chunk of lines if stuff like this triggers you.)

I open a news article.
COVID numbers are up.
Especially in my county.
My brain starts.
What if I get COVID?
What if I have it?
What if I’m asymptotic?
Oh my gosh.
What if I give to someone in my family?
Oh my gosh.
What if I already did?
They’re going to get sick.
Oh my gosh.
What if they get hospitalized?
I can’t be with them.
What if they die?
It’s my fault.
They’re going to die.
Just like Rory.
I couldn’t save her.
I compressed on her chest.
I gave her breath.
But I couldn’t save her.
Her lifeless body.
She’s gone.
More people I love are going to leave me.

On bad days, it’s a panic attack. My brain cycling through that night. Over and over again.

On good days I can stop my brain and think through it. Process.

You don’t have COVID.
You’re being careful.
You’re doing all you can.
No one in your family is sick right now.

I know I’m far from the only one that’s triggering right now. For various reasons. In different ways.

Oh man, it’s so important to understand that we don’t know what people are fighting. We don’t know what they’re going home to. We don’t know what they’re walking around with every day in their head.

Yesterday, as I was reading scriptures with my boys a phrase stuck out. “Tarry a little longer”.

To mourn with, to love, to be with those around us a little longer, in different ways.

With the person that needs someone to talk to.

Call someone that might be lonely.

Drop a treat to someone that’s been isolating.

Be more patient when I’m ready to throw my hands up.

Show love instead of showing up to fight.

Drop a text to let someone else know they’re thought about and missed.

Give more of myself to those that I have the amazing opportunity to know and love.

Tarry just a little longer.

I want to send a big hug to all of you today.

Love you. 💜💜💜

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