I know I’m a warrior. God gave me a name that means warrior plus another name that means I’m consecrated to God. Since escaping my home, I have become particularly good at fighting for what I want and usually getting it. You can’t keep this woman down. I will succeed and be successful. Period.
Nevertheless, I’m discovering I have an adversary, though a toothless dog, that has proven to be a formidable foe. He knows I’ll be amazing. He knows I’ll make a major dent but here’s what I have come to accept about posttraumatic stress disorder:
- This condition is for life;
- Crippling exhaustion comes and goes in waves;
- When in the throes of a new wave of exhaustion, I must be easy on myself;
- If I can’t get out of bed, stay in it. There’s a reason I’m exhausted;
- When I have oodles of energy, don’t overdo it;
- Whenever I do something for more than four hours, I’m pooped as if I spent 12 hours;
- Sometimes I need quiet time, i.e., no talking whatsoever;
- I want to take my little doggies for a walk but simply can’t; and
- PTSD sucks and I am not alone.
For some of you who’ve been struggling for years that this is nothing new. However, for me, who is usually an energized go-getter and lets nothing get in my way, this feels crippling.
Writing and posting regular blog posts should be as easy as pie because writing comes easily for me yet this has become one of the most difficult tasks despite my passion to connect with others like me.
My professional career started at high tech companies in Silicon Valley. I know what it takes to be successful. I make and meet deadlines. I am thorough. I am timely. I am good at what I do. However, it’s as if I’m being held back. My brain says, “Get out of bed. Take a shower. Do your day.” My body says, “Stay in bed. It’s safer here. No one can hurt you. Besides, you’re tired. You need rest.”
That last sentence keeps me from doing what I love. All my son sees is me in bed often but I get up and at ‘em when I absolutely must. When it’s required, I’ll drag my behind out of bed and get it done. Then it takes me days to recover.
In addition to regular blog postings, I want to go on long mountain hikes; bike at least 100+ miles a week; walk my four-legged relatives daily; get a paying job; build relationship with people; and join PTA at my son’s school.
Well, it’s not happening today. While those are admirable goals, my PTSD won’t let me. Now I need to set reasonable goals based on experience over the last 10 years.
What I’m really trying to say is my goal is to post at least once a week. If I don’t, please know it’s because my PTSD is kicking my butt. Would you pray for me?