A Journey from Victim to Survivor…to Living Freely

Sneaky As Hell…

on March 26, 2017

Here’s what I fucking hate about ptsd…it’s sneaky as hell.  It allowed me to convince myself that I’m doing well…I’m mostly meeting meal plan, I’m attending DBT skills group–where I actually set goals I try to reach (hence mostly meeting mp and drinking appropriate amounts of water–plus daily self-care goals), I’m keeping my appts with my psychologist, nutritionist and psychiatric CNP, I’m attending church…I’ve let a couple people into the “This is a tough time of year for me” world and I didn’t implode–and neither did they.  When the nightmares started popping up, I reminded myself I am safe…when flashes intrude, I remind myself to be here and now…

I’m doing it right.  I’m not harming. I’m choosing the next right steps.  Until I’m not…until that sneaky bastard starts to show itself…and my psychologist is out this week…and I helped support a friend, including daily “sitter” responsibilities following her suicide attempt 2 weeks ago, because I don’t want her dead…as much as she wanted it this moment.  I start thinking “You’re doing everything you’re supposed to do…and it’s not working…You know what might work? Yeh…remember that shady af Ed guy who was your friend until you realized he was abusive and trying to kill you by feeding you lies?  Maybe he can help…”.  And I take small bits of restricting…not full on, just enough to say “I’m following meal plan”-yet, I’m restricting within mp…then, it’s more…because I’m hungry and that scares me…and I worry that I am over meal plan (truth be told, I’m actually not–but that Ed guy tells me I am WAY OVER!)…so, I restrict a little bit more…then, seemingly all of the sudden, maybe it’s fasting…although Ed tells me it’s not…the healthy me–the recovering me–the me that wants to choose recovery knows better…and still, I try to prove otherwise…a missed meal or a snack is not going to cause a full spiral…it’s not going to mean I am relapsing…It’s just a little…it’s fine…

Except, I know it’s not.  I know I am turning to the keyboard instead of grabbing a fucking cheese stick or Boost…I’m processing through my own head because when I see it on the screen, I’m able to see what I am doing…and, it’s not next.right.thing.  That Ed dude is a liar.  Every single item of my clothing is not too tight. Eating meal plan will not cause me to gain excessive amounts of weight…and, even if it did, I know gorgeous individuals of many body sizes–inside and out.  And, now I can take the breath I’ve been holding…I can get back, step-by-step to choosing that next.right.step. I can choose recovery and realize I am recovering and perfection is not part of this progress.

So, Fuck You, Ed.  I’m grabbing a Boost and chugging it.  Onward I go.


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