The PTSD

Her aesthetic is in fact my favourite. Just look at this –

If I were to move into the home of one of my girlfriends, it would be Alexandra’s. That beautiful flower, by the way, is from a play. Archer became attached to it so she made for it a home here.

We spent the evening in the nook of her porch beneath string lights, and behind plants. It was heaven, and what I needed after a particularly long day.

Our primary conversations circled around PTSD, and how we respond to normal every day situations as though they are life or death situations. When they are, like, a Klondike bar falling onto the ground, and suddenly nothing makes sense and the world is ending and I have no value. (Women, by the way, are more prone to this than are men, specifically because we are less likely to compartmentalize.) As perfectly put by Alex – we experience the normal thing through our body, but before it reaches our cognitive and present day state, it has to go through our nervous system first, which is where all of the trauma sits. Only after making its way through this muck and swamp-water does it come forward.

Tainted.

The results manifesting as life or death and nothing in between. When in fact, everything is in between, if not mostly everything is alright. Because we have our health, and job security, and safety. Because we are loved, and have people to love. Because we have a roof over our heads and live in a country where neither our economic status nor our physical home, nor our personal identity is under threat (though being an immigrant woman of colour who is Muslim does not so gently or without sometimes very real and great challenge fit into this latter category).

At the end of the day, I am a straight woman without disabilities, both of which bring ease. (Though again, being a woman doesn’t bring all of the ease that of being a man does in any country.)

All intersectionality aside (forgive me if I forgot something, and please name it in the Instagram comments, thank you), as Alex reminded me – We are good. No matter what, alhamduliLah, We are good.

Today, I am grateful for:
1. White lights that, I will keep reminding you, make everything better, not just Instagram photos.
2. Friends who understand trauma, and PTSD, making for far easier conversations.
3. Hitting the 265 day mark of this sabbatical; with my health, and with all of the love for which I could ask.

Ottawa | Day 265 | August 22, 2019


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