Things has been pretty quiet around here. Not necessarily in a bad way, I've just been busy with the ptsd program I am in that it's hard to sit down and write. I go twice a week, once for one on one and once for group. I have to say, its an amazing program and I'm really starting to feel and see small changes in myself. Its hard work, it's not fun, its emotional, it can be physically exhausting but I know that all that work is leading to good things.
Healing is taking up 23 our of the 24 hours a day (with some sleep thrown in there) but even with all that work, even with all the steps forward, I'm waiting for it to all fall apart. I'm so close to reaching a goal I've had for years, it's within reach, even this year it could be reached, but being smart about it means waiting one more year (no its not more kids). But, as I approach the "I've reached it" stage, my ptsd brain kicks on. It reminds me that when things are going well, things fall apart and it's just sitting there waiting to watch the cake crumble, or is it cookie crumble? Either way, now I want a cookie. And some cake. What if I put the cookies in the cake? Yum!
Anyways, I see this goal, it is within reach and I'm struggling to put everything I have learned in the program into place. My brain is fighting me for room. It says don't get comfy, your ride is about to crash and everything around you will fall down again. It's so damn relentless to remind me that, that I sometimes feel like my brain and my heart work together to make me unknowingly add to the breaking apart. To make me start it, to make me be the one to hit the first domino.
I fight back by saying things can be good, they can continue to be good. I am in no danger of things going bad but then I do know life, life can suck, life can be shitty and unfair which just feeds into Burly my anxiety beasts fuel. It's tough to recognize the safety in the situation, its uncomfortable for me because for the last 5 years I've lived in survival mode. I've avoided situations, created new ones that made me feel more comfortable. I've become a recluse, hiding away in my home but lately, it's changing. I care about me.
For the first time in maybe forever, I truly care about myself. I've accepted that I need to take care of me if I want to be the best I can be. It's important to me that I get grounded, that I find my way, that I discover who I am because without that, no relationship will survive. Not family, not friends. So I fight. I constantly remind myself about everything I have learned and that when things are going well it does not mean they will fall apart, no matter how much my brain and heart want to believe it. I have to trust that I will not cause it to fall apart. I have to trust that good things can happen and for a few years at that while recognizing that life is life.
It may very well fall apart again at some point, but if I want to make it through, I need to find my ground, I need to know who I am and yes falling apart again will change me, but at least I will have another base to start from. It will lessen the blow, it will help me through with whatever life throws at me. I want to be able to stand up and say, life, give me what you may, but I'm not falling apart. I will stand no matter how difficult. I'm throwing punches over here and will not sit around and wait for things to fall apart. They may happen, they may not, but I'm living life as it is now and preparing myself a solid foundation for things that may come my way.
On a completely different subject, today I was really stuck on the memory of when I found our Ty had died. All I could think about was how in the hell was he going to come out because I mean surely, I was not expected to deliver him right? Such an odd thought, but it really fit the moment. The complete and udder ability to comprehend how a baby comes out was beyond me at the moment. Hummm.....