“...What year is it?” I asked J. near the beginning of our session as I tried hard to ground myself to reality. I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe. “What year do you think it is?” He, being the therapist that he is, never gives me a straight answer; always opting for me to figure it... Continue Reading →
A Letter to Panic Attacks and Anxiety
Dear Anxiety and PTSD-induced Panic Attacks, I hate you. No, I loathe you. You are the bane of my existence and the reason I can't enjoy the things that once brought me peace and happiness like God or writing or reading. Yes, even reading (don't ask, just know that it is horrendous). You make me... Continue Reading →
Travailing through Trauma: A Night With PTSD
Last night, PTSD won. I spent most of the night curled up in my closet, like a child afraid of the Boogeyman, trying my best to be as small as possible, like nothing at all, because the amount of open space my room offered was too much. Around 11 p.m., I lied on the floor... Continue Reading →