PTSD and the legacy of anxiety
I don't know if I'd still qualify for my PTSD diagnosis. My therapist doesn't work that way.
I know many of the traditional symptoms linger, sometimes triggering sadness or self-recrimination. With ex-friends like my ex-wife, and depression, who can afford a single enemy? It's all subsumed by the massive black hole that once was the space for my life partnership. Black holes collapse on themselves, just as I have. Light, sound, optimism and hope, body weight—poof.
Anxiety defies cosmology. In the infinite dark it cries out for adoration, just as my ex-wife always did. Again, similarly, it offers nothing in return.
Because I'm currently a vessel for clinical anxiety, I cannot read. I cannot stream TV. I could never date. Sex and intimacy terrify me because those require gentle close attention.
I can't afford to fail or disappoint again after 28 years of withheld affection, rudeness, disdain, and gaslighting.
I know many of the traditional symptoms linger, sometimes triggering sadness or self-recrimination. With ex-friends like my ex-wife, and depression, who can afford a single enemy? It's all subsumed by the massive black hole that once was the space for my life partnership. Black holes collapse on themselves, just as I have. Light, sound, optimism and hope, body weight—poof.
Anxiety defies cosmology. In the infinite dark it cries out for adoration, just as my ex-wife always did. Again, similarly, it offers nothing in return.
Because I'm currently a vessel for clinical anxiety, I cannot read. I cannot stream TV. I could never date. Sex and intimacy terrify me because those require gentle close attention.
I can't afford to fail or disappoint again after 28 years of withheld affection, rudeness, disdain, and gaslighting.
Another legacy of trauma is anger, but my anger is not a black vortex. It’s a pinpoint laser finally finding its sole focus: Mina. The laser pointer is finally and forever all yours. Perform for me in your tiny circle of illumination. Dance on the shards of your broken plate while you film yourself. You are the star you wished to be now, on your own camera. By yourself. Not even faking your rage for once. Actually having something inside you that mattered while the “record” button was pressed. Fucking me over to revenge your failed existence.
I hope my anxiety is not eating at me from the inside. I try to notice, accept, nurture and welcome it. It truly has been my most important companion since 2012, eclipsing my ex who was unavailable and unkind.
I lived in a black hole under a total eclipse for well over a decade. I am the miracle. I am anxious and afraid for my future. But I am important to me, and my "illness" makes so much cosmic sense.
I hope my anxiety is not eating at me from the inside. I try to notice, accept, nurture and welcome it. It truly has been my most important companion since 2012, eclipsing my ex who was unavailable and unkind.
I lived in a black hole under a total eclipse for well over a decade. I am the miracle. I am anxious and afraid for my future. But I am important to me, and my "illness" makes so much cosmic sense.
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