Lady Gaga has told the world she has PTSD. I think she should have spoken in the past tense. If she has PTSD now, I’m pregnant.
It’s an extreme anxiety disorder. My body wants to be alone, never in contact with anyone. Another part of me loves trustworthy people — the key word there is “trust.” My body demands silence, calm and order. I physically, emotionally and intellectually understand why some people with PTSD retreat. I’ve read about returning soldiers in the US who “go rogue” on returning home and retreat to isolated cabins in the Midwest.
Life is stressful but for people with PTSD, it’s incredibly so. Every conversation, every interaction is risky. When I go to bed, the release of stress is physical; it is unpleasant. I have jerky movements still but once I would often have seizures — sometimes very violent ones — when I went to bed.
I’m in much better shape now than I was eight months ago, if you discount talking. I can lead a normal life. I’m not keen to go to parties, but I could. I’d likely take medication. I’m not nearly ready to get into an airplane. I’m not afraid of flying; it's the people in the plane. Even with medication I cannot yet consider it — perhaps accompanied I could do it.
I have a firm grip on Dr. Shjoja’s hand; it’s been this way for eight months. In sixteen months I have to let go. By then two things will have happened: I’ll have continued to improve and to adapt. Wherever I am with my speech and with my capacity to endure the world out there, from then on I’ll be on my own (and to some degree, that scares the you-know-what out of me).
That’s when I have to make my decision about where and how to live the rest of my life.
Well I have learned something interesting about myself. I love sewing. It’s methodical, fairly instantly satisfying and it’s the perfect activity for making television tolerable. I’m re-doing the text I want for the apron in my project.
Although I’d been putting off starting work on the wheat dress, I started sewing first thing this morning because I had the black aida cloth on hand. And guess what: I can do it freehand now. It’s great that I did the practice piece.
I cannot imagine myself knitting but there’s something about sewing I love. I could easily see myself doing portraits in thread. Yum. I’ll have to remember this because I’m going to need a project for each winter ahead. (The next one needs to take less space.)
I walked today. I took the bus to UBC and walked home. It was cold but I have the perfect coat and the sunshine and the stunning view of the mountains covered in new snow made walking a delight.