Manic Fissures

Traditionally, I begin to fray at the edges with the first Christmas displays. I consider it solid progress that I now recognize it as part of my PTSD and have developed some effective coping strategies. I have enjoyed quite a few consecutive, incident free Decembers. Missus Claus I ain't, but at least I can steer clear of the unofficial family traditions of drunkenness, rape and suicide. That is ho ho enough for this ho.
This morning I was informing my husband that I would be taking a therapy drive today when a City tree trimming crew showed up to clear the trees from the power lines in our back yard. Right over the bee hives my husband would not be here to husband. Stubbed a toe on DIL stacks in the hallway. Had to write a blank check for adults budgeting parental sucker funds. Etc., etc. No therapy drive for me today. Poor me.
Good thing I am "not working." Maybe I can sell tickets to the amusement park of my life.
"Let go and Let God" has become my mantra of the day. My planned coping strategy was derailed for the day and the resulting fissures have me pacing the edges of my cage like a lion roaring to be free.
Patience. God can see around corners which block my vision. Let go and let God.