There are things we should never have to see, imagine or worse ..... remember. Nightmares are like that. 9/11 was like that. One thing we can count on......there will be more unpleasantness in our lives and our children's lives. The way of the world will dictate that for certain. Sometimes memories are our friends instead of our own worst enemies, aren't they? They are what makes us who we are. In a way, they give us strength and fine tune the notes of our emotions (for the good and/or for the bad). I have had to make peace with my nightmares and ride the uncertainty of their timing. I respect them but, I am no longer afraid of them. They are the mental ravings of a scarred young woman, (the music still plays loudly and erractically) but, they can do me no physical harm. It took 18 years of therapy to believe that. They beat to a different drummer. It's horrible when your own biorythms beat to a different drummer ..... one whom you have never met. Who is this everpresent and elusive stranger? Who is my hypervigillance, my exxagerated startle response, my inability to experience true intimacy (not sexual), my spin-on-a-dime outbursts of anger, my reliving the trauma almost daily, and my inability to remember parts of the attack and attacker? The stranger's name is PTSD.
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