PLTG

Written and posted, today, Monday, August 19th ...
With each episode of PTSD ( or in my case PLTG as in pain leading to gain) my hard won inner strengths eventually expand and deepen like the roots of a tree, which serve to nourish and stabilize its trunk—or in my case, the core of my self worth—which, while branching out ever more securely, also grows so well grounded as to weather each next storm that reality suggests must be borne.

As to what I need most whenever a current situation overwhelms my thought processor (by sucking my self worth into a subconscious eruption of yesteryear’s haunting, daunting, little house of horrors) is threefold—unconditional love, emotional support and time wisely spent with my therapist, who, being well trained in EMDR therapy, guides my processor (ever so patiently) toward spotlighting and rewiring each newly exposed, deeply traumatized, self depreciating pathway of thought, which, upon feeling stimulated to emerge from subconscious repression, distorts my current self image to match whatever I’d misconceived about my three year old self during the months following my baby sister’s death when nothing I did could hold back the emotionally reactive storms that had ‘declared’ any natural demonstration of ‘naughtiness’ on my part to be a burden too great to bear for every broken heart that I’d loved.  And just as spontaneously as lightening had struck our home twice within a matter of weeks, initially, each uprising of PLTG burns my personal sense of self worth to a crisp right after anything that currently awakens an unprocessed fear left unidentified during childhood’s most traumatized moments prods each next episode of PTSD to erupt from its subconscious hideout to suck my processor’s connection to logic and personal safety into the little house of horrors, yet again, where, likened to my three year old brain, my adult think tank is stripped of its hard won, acquired inner strengths, leaving my processor feeling utterly powerless as well as furious that I’ve not yet wrestled this subconscious adversary to the mat—I mean seriously—as valiantly as I work to retrain my brain—where is my Rocky moment?

Please know full well that while I’m making my way ever so slowly but intuitively through this most recent eruption of deeply repressed childhood unprocessed pain, my well practiced power of intuition continues to muster the courage to take yet another leap of faith over yesteryear’s emergent fears concerning my unworthiness toward seeking insight into the specific causalities that triggered this lengthy strike of anxiety to spike so high as to stimulate my defense system to protect my stressed-to-the-max processor from bursting a cerebral blood vessel and stroking out by knocking out my think tank with one wallop of a punch, thus ‘shanghai-ing’ my connection to logic ... forcing my brain, which had been in a relentless state of overdrive for several months—beginning last October, when I was unable to ungarble my speech—to consider nothing other than my exhausted need to cocoon so as to—rest—rest—rest ... until deeply strained mental pain leads to gain, as in PLTG
Annie

PS
After sending this message
My heart, missing my friend, stirred
And much to my surprise
I  chose to see her for a brief spell
The very next day ...