Did I Scare You?
It came to my attention that some people reading my posts are quite concerned about the effects of PTSD on me.
First, let me assure you that my ability to drive was never impaired. It was getting to where I wanted or needed to go.
Yes, my mind felt like it was stuck, my body got numb and I shook. It is also true the fear started before I left the house and sat in the car unable to figure out how to get to where I was going tough I drove it a thousand times.
PTSD demands that you relive the trauma. You don’t know how to fix it. But life can go on – it takes longer to figure things out.
Remember that I was not in a war zone and it was a year and a half ago, so things have gotten much better. Once I drive somewhere, I can now remember how to do it again.
My concern in writing this was a sort of warning to others to be careful on the road. Mine was an incident concerning only me and the car. For others, it can be much worse. Be wary. An accident can mean a long time recovery from the trauma.
BE AWARE AND TAKE CARE
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More On PTSD Here is another way PTSD interferes with my life. I get up in the morning and check emails. That goes well until I see that there are three or four offers for help in the direction I need, which is social media. I click on all of them and set up my day. But it’s not that easy. How will I do them all when I have to walk my dog, work on my book, pay the bills, and grocery shop for dinner. Normally this would not be a problem. But as all this goes through my head, my body reacts. My shoulders tighten, my stomach turns over, a headache starts, my breathing quickens, my fingers don’t want to type the right letters, And, I am a mess. I try calming myself in all the ways I know how to do, from slow breathing to stretching exercises. In the end, none of it works. The worst part is that it stays with me for the entire day. It refuses to go away. It continues to wreak havoc with my day and my life. And I am left a dishrag trying to move on with my life until I climb into bed and fall asleep exhausted. The next day I find that all the things I wanted to listen to were forgotten. PTSD wins. Every time.
Who am I and Why? 
Who am I and Why? 