-Just once I want to wake up and not have something either (a) break or (b) go terribly wrong. It is almost a constant thing around here. Today it wasn’t much. The computer screen has gone inexplicably dark and the brightness control on the monitor has stopped working. For some reason it made me realize that every morning seems to breed some sort of crisis that causes me to have to go and practice breathing exercises to calm myself down. I don’t deal well with things going wrong immediately after I wake up. Luckily, today was a pretty easy morning because I had things to do.
-I had blood-work this morning. I should have remembered from all the times I tried giving blood that I should have had something to eat before I went. I didn’t and I nearly passed out. The only thing that didn’t, oddly enough, was my high blood pressure. It was so high I managed to fill up almost all six vials in front of me in near record time. I waited for close to an hour in the waiting room, mostly because I was early, but was out of the office only half an hour after my scheduled appointment time.
-I haven’t posted anything really serious in either blog this week, but it doesn’t mean I have only been writing frivolous pop-culture related columns. I have been writing serious things, but they have been of a more private nature; nothing that I really care to share with anyone outside of my most intimate friends and acquaintances. The story about planning trees was originally going to be posted here because it ended up being an incident that I was really angry about. The tone of the piece itself became so jocular, however, that I really had no choice but to post it in the other blog. I’m still as proud of it as I could be since most of the memories of the events have faded.
-In my last entry when I was explaining to everyone about the extent of my P!TSD. I said that my PTSD was rarely triggered by things that are media related. I think now that I am more cognisant of my problems, that is about to change. While at the library on Wednesday night I had two things trigger my feelings of despair. I looked at the back of a book on display as one of the library’s recent arrivals. I forgot the name and author of the book, but it had a shadowy figure on the cover in the crosshairs of a snipers scope. The first two words of the title were “Who is...” and was about an assassin. I looked briefly at the description on the back of the thin paperback and my eyes zeroed in on one sentence:
“(Insert titular name here) is a victim of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and is getting over the murder of his girlfriend ten years prior. He is sought after by governments for the way he coldly and emotionlessly kills...”
My heart sank reading that but when I saw the picture of the author I wasn’t surprised. He looked like an asshole; standing in front of an enormous swimming pool, wearing sunglasses with a fauxhawk and making a gun out of his fingers and pointing them at the camera with the sneer of a frat boy. I moved on from there and decided to kill some time reading the newspaper and read a story even more disturbing and triggering; especially the pictures that accompanied it. The story wasn’t wholly relevant, but the pictures told a thousand words; reminding me of the secret I am trying so desperately to forget and come to grips with from my childhood.
-The weekend should be a lot better than the past week. At least I have something to do over the weekend other than sit in my room and read a lot.
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