the ups and downs of life

PTSD and Life

PTSD is its own thing. It does whatever it wants, whenever it wants. It’s a part of you. It has the personality of a lion. It likes to lie around and be lazy at times and then at other times it will come out roaring loudly. You can’t make it shut up. And it can be scary as hell. And unless you have PTSD, you have no clue how hard it can be to try to tame.

How do I know all of this? I have PTSD. There have been quite a few traumatic events in my life. I won’t go into all the details of all of them. But let’s just say that my lion is fat and sassy and louder than any noise I have ever known.

I moved back to my hometown for economic reasons this last year. And there has been good and bad from the move. There’s always good and bad to any situation. But the really bad about this is that it has opened my lion’s cage. It has roared a lot.

I have had to isolate to deal with my PTSD. I have been doing well enough to function and be able to work. I haven’t really told my friends or family about it because, as I have most of my life, I deal with shit and get through it. It’s part of the whole only child thing as well as I have always just had to take care of myself because that’s how it is.

Here’s the thing for me…when I moved here, it was hard. Overwhelming even. People think oh it’s great you’re moving home. It is and was. But when you left here after the traumatic deaths of your entire immediate family and you come back two decades later, it is a lot to deal with. Add to that the fact that you left a lot to come here.

Now it is June 1st. For the past few months I have been dealing with emotional stressors that I have told no one about. I don’t like dealing with panic attacks when I have to think about going to the cemetery. I don’t like thinking about Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, anniversaries and all that crap. I’m trying to get to the point where driving by the cemetery doesn’t make me hyperventilate.

And I am also trying to readjust to friendships and family. I haven’t dealt with family in years because I was gone. I am reacquainting with old friends, making new ones and trying to deal with old ones. It’s a lot to handle. And it is very frustrating and hurtful when you’re being told that you aren’t good enough and aren’t doing things the way you should. I am doing the best I can. I’m trying to just survive at the moment. And if people can’t bear with me, then I’m really sorry. Maybe they need to have some compassion and realize I’ve been trying to do everything to not fall apart.

So thank you PTSD. You’ve handed me a lot of shit to deal with. But I’ve got this. I always do. Whether it is on my own or not.

I Still Cry

It’s been 23 years. I still cry. It can be because of a holiday, anniversary, song, or no reason at all. I still cry. The pain isn’t as searing, but there is still a hole in my heart. You were my first love, my best friend, the best part of me. And in an instant you were gone.

Most people have their parents with them until they’re old. I am now just 1 year younger than you were when you died. I wonder at times if I am going to die next year. I was born on your birthday. Will I die on the same day you died? Its scary as hell. Wouldn’t that be ironic?

We think we are grown at 25. I know now that I didn’t know a damn thing. Not one damn thing. Well, I knew how to argue and stand up to authority. That was a good and bad thing. I knew how to love hard because you taught me.

I want to do so many things and I would love to tell you. I can’t. I have dreams that I can’t run by you. I am now back in our hometown and I thought it would be ok but I tell you, it hurts like hell at times. The memories are so vivid and the ache so heavy that I can’t get you out of my head. So I still cry.

I miss you so damn much, Mama. I need you so often.



Fat Shaming and Other BS

So I was on Twitter the last few days and saw this one guy spouting his views on obesity. It’s all good that he wants the world to be healthy. Great. What’s not so good is when he goes so far as to insult and talk down to people who are fat/obese/chunky or whatever else the hell you want to call it.

Here’s my thoughts on fat shaming…if you aren’t dealing with it yourself, keep your mouth shut. It’s one thing to actually care about others. It is a completely different thing when you are a dick about it. Do you honestly think that people don’t understand the perils of being overweight? They do. Everyone feels the need to continually educate people who already know the information given about it all the time.

And why is it acceptable to talk shit about someone who is overweight but not a drug addict? The theory is that they have both “done this to themselves,” right? Why do we have such sympathy for a drug addict but none for the person struggling with obesity? They’re both fighting a battle of addiction. The person with the food issues just has an outward display of it. It seems to me that fat shaming is so acceptable while every other thing in this world can be poo-pooed and we can feel sorry about it.

And one thing that got me about this guy’s pontification was that after his first rant he did a video talking about how he had to cope using benzos. OK so what if he had been talked about or shamed for his mental health issues? Would he whine and cry and say he couldn’t help it? Well, yeah, there’s lots of coping mechanisms other than pills. I’m not saying people shouldn’t take them. But that isn’t the only way to deal with things. Just like food isn’t the only way to deal with things.

He then did another video directed toward a woman who stated she was strong and obese. He railed against her. Saying things about it was fine but how would her family feel standing over her coffin because she died early because of obesity? Here’s something to think about. Our days are numbered. All of us. We never know when it is going to happen. NEVER. I knew a doctor who was riding his motorcycle and a tree limb fell and killed him one day. He was relatively young. Life happens. And so does death. Should we help it along? No. But should we try to make people feel like shit because they’re doing what they can to cope with where they are in life? Absofuckinglutely not.

So rather than being a judgmental asshole towards people, why not try to just have some compassion? We are all just trying to get through this life the best way we can. We don’t need people saying and doing things to make us feel bad about ourselves. We can all do that to ourselves just fine. So before you decide to be a keyboard/video judge and jury, stop. Just stop.


I believe that beauty comes in a variety of forms. There’s the obvious physical beauty of a person. That beauty is a fickle thing, though. Most likely it will not last. As we age, we change. Most of us do not age quite as gracefully and beautifully as we’d like. But some of us look at the lines and wrinkles we acquire as beauty marks. They show we lived, loved and laughed. We experienced a rich and meaningful life. That’s a beautiful thing.

A person can also have a beautiful soul. While we see so many negative things in the world on a daily basis, it is always heart warming to see someone who is a truly beautiful soul. They have such an innate goodness that you can’t help but be mesmerized by them.

When we look at people we typically look for people who are traditionally attractive or beautiful. What I prefer is that we look for the beauty in everyone. Whether someone is physically attractive or a beautiful person on the inside, they are beautiful. If that person is comfortable with who they are, it’s not anyone else’s place to try to insult them or belittle them. Why would someone feel the need to hurt another person? If there is a health concern, express it in a kind way. You don’t have to go out of your way to hurt someone.

I have been on both sides of this issue. I have been told I am beautiful and I have also been told I am quite the opposite. I am at an age now where I know I am beautiful on the inside where it counts the most to me. If someone happens to find my physical appearance attractive, fine. But that is not who I am or what I truly care about.

It’s easy to judge someone else’s appearance. Why not look in a mirror and judge your own? Are you where you want to be physically? Mentally? Spiritually? If not, keep your judgements to yourself. If you are, still keep your judgements to yourself.


There are times when I wonder if it is too late to dream. I read the inspirational quotes. I push through and keep hoping it’s not too late. Is it?

There are so many things I wanted to be and do by this point in life. It’s frustrating when I allow myself to think about those things. I try not to. I try to stay focused. I push forward with dreams that may or may not come true. I am working toward things that so many say is a great concept and really workable. But I just don’t know.

I look at my past dreams and they didn’t work. In fact, they’re quite fucked up. They’ve led me to this point where I am now. I get frustrated because while I have friends, I don’t have someone to lean on with this indecisiveness.

While I wonder about all these dreams, I keep dreaming. Why? I am terrified. What if I fail? What if I succeed? What if I can’t do it? What if I need help? All of these questions.

Do I stop dreaming? No. It’s who I am. I dream even when I shouldn’t. I hold onto hope when there’s none. Maybe that’s been how I have survived life. I don’t know. All I know is that I will continue to be a dreamer.

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