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This is probably some word porn but my mind is racing. I have an anniversary coming up. I have got raging anxiety and my thoughts make sense to me.

PTSD v C-PTSD 2 contrasting shit shows set in Oklahoma with the tornado on the way.

You heard the forecasted storm is coming. So you watch the weather until instinct says now it’s time. The storm was upgraded to warning 45 mins ago. It’s now an eerily calm moment and that could be a roar in the the distance. You go to the cellar and though you should feel it is scary and breathing is irregular getting near the cellar door watching for another 2 hours. Before you can assure yourself it’s okay to go home.

My shit shows are more like, this

Since there may be tornado’s I keep Pedro’s toy in the bathtub all Spring. He’ll run there to feel safe I hope. He’s right by me and I hope he minds when I tell him go get his toy. We been on the edge watching the window for parts of the last 8 hours when it gets too loud to ignore we’ll go out on the porch and if it starts rolling loud right before I put my head down, real low I’ll send him in there so I can kiss my ass good bye if i have to.

My PTSD is intimidated by all scary things real and real real. It’s all bundle of I know the risks and I accept challenges. I am not going to take responsibility for everything in my past that could be described by some one else using my own words even and just rip my heart with anguish and guilt.

I have been in the wrong many occasion and am willing to look at myself periodically and listen to all, most people offering feedback. If I am wrong I would rather just start making amends and move ahead in reconciliation. From then forward there’s no fault in the the guilty who’s shown remorse and suffered consequences even changed behavior.

ptsd my story seems to show the fluidity of the symptoms and the different ways it manifests in individual lives. But it’s only been one life and parts spent battling violently, some as a nourishing matriarch and a couple of time I was even a fun mom. I have showed up for community and even supported a friend by creating a non-profit together.

Not to mention I had 3 babies and with each of them I savored parts of gestation, entire months of their incontinent and often rebellious toddling. Two of them I shared with someone even when it wasn’t safe for my wellbeing I kept my agreements all before handing them over to the schools I took care of them 90-95% of the time.

It is April 18, 2021 and I live in an entirely different space. Unfortunately, those things came with me. I’d mistakenly given the privilege of my secrets to be used without knowing exactly who I was confiding in.

Today I start again, again. I am still Cachet as I have always been. I am a faithful but often loud and even wrongfully engaged in emotional terrorism against my husband. Another life lived bouncing through confusing emotions also afflicted with the effects of childhood truama.

His shit storm wouldn’t be noticed for certain I can claim a doubt he would give it thought until someone needed to be saved. He would just be as docile as ever with accurate and efficient repairing anything but us it seems.

It’s funny how tables they turn.

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