First, thank you to everyone for understanding about the past couple of days. As much as I want to post everyday, with the move less than a week away, the moving sale today, and work wanting overtime, I am stretched thin.
Which has made today worse than it probably would have been. A lot of people with CPTSD are very private. We learn at a young age that providing any information about yourself will be used against you at a later date. I know now that not everyone is this way, and that is a sign of an abuser, but it doesn’t stop the instinct to not share kick in. So having to share things like my address for a moving sale really triggered me.
I get it. If I am going to get rid of stuff by selling it, then I have to provide my address. Common sense dictates that. It didn’t stop it from feeling like I was being rubbed raw from the inside out to do it, and then being cranky when dealing with strangers contacting me and stopping by. I can’t help but be on high alert. It’s an automatic thing for me to second guess the motive of someone I don’t know. It’s ingrained in me to do so, because that is how I survived as well as I did for the first part of my life.
I don’t want to be this way. I realize I need some of this to survive a normal life, but it would be a refreshing change to be in a group of people that I don’t know and not wonder what they really want from me. To not be triggered when a hand movement (innocent on their part) makes every muscle in my body tense. To not watch my spouse go through some of the same reactions, because I know when they are triggered as well.
I may not do it justice, but I think this describes how difficult and hard it is for anyone with PTSD to try to function in normal situations. To go on high alert to the point you can hear the blood rush in your ears because you are triggered, but try not to show it because it honestly isn’t that nice lady’s fault that she sounds like your mom. To have your muscles go as tight and hard as stone because the man who’s looking at your table laughs like a past abuser. At the end of the day, you are worn out.
This is the day to day struggle. I am still positive in spite of it. I believe a lot of people are good despite my past. I know I can make it through this day, because I have made it through so many others. I just hope it will get better each time. I hope.