Some days I am full of motivation, full of hope. Some days I understand the concept of "one day at a time" and I act accordingly. Some days I review the myriad constructive tools I have learned to cope with my struggles, and choose one that fits the situation. Some days are good.
Today isn't one of those days.
There's a quirky little trait about people with unresolved trauma. Little things, insignificant to most, can propel us damaged folks right back to a place we desperately want to avoid. The memories come pouring in. Awful images seep into every crevice of our brains, crowding out everything else. It's suffocating. It's crazy-making.
In those moments, when reality is replaced by nightmare, it's awfully hard to maintain the recovery momentum. Sick just seems so much easier, promises so much relief. Being sick froze my emotions solid. Now recovery is thawing them out, and I feel like I'm drowning in the run-off.
My only solace is the knowledge that the worst is over. Memories, terrifying as they may be, can never be as bad as the original event. This pain, raw as it is, will not last forever.
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