It’s sunny outside and the dead baby girl is fading. I’ve been living with her day and night for three months because of a horrific relapse. PTSD knows no sense of the passing of time. It will return full force, even as your doctors tell you progress is being made. That’s what happened to me, continue reading…
This is the space where I get to take my broken pencil out and play. Mostly I intend to report on life with PTSD in an effort to explain the disorder and hopefully inspire people suffering from it. I will also post on things that inspire me, and that could be pretty much anything. The key, according to the doctors, is for me to keep writing something. You are free to consider this self indulgent therapy, better suited to a journal. If you feel that way don't read it. If you want to learn more about PTSD then come on along.
A word on what is and what is not offensive. My self effacing and at times sarcastic tone may leave you feeling offended. Don't. I do not give offence freely here. Should you choose to take it, well that's on you. My advice, laugh at me or with me. No one needs the negative energy of an offended reader. Leave it all here.
If you intend to keep track of these missives, follow me on Twitter. I'll tweet when I update the space with a new entry.