I woke up this morning and knew I was in a bad way. My nerve endings were on fire. I was super sensitive to touch. Even to the clothing I was wearing rubbing against my skin. My emotions felt completely out of control. If I was sad, I knew I'd be sobbing. If I was mad, fuming. If I was happy, laughing hysterically. I could just FEEL it. Then, as I was about to start writing this, my daughter woke up early. I clamped down so hard on my feelings. Really hard. I couldn't afford to have them out of control with my baby girl. I went in and got her out of her crib just as Mommy got home from the gym.
Mommy and I talked a little bit and I ended up over-reacting to everything she said. I never yelled, but I ended up in a depressed funk, laying on the bed. I finally fell asleep, oblivious to everything. My wife woke me up hours later because she needed help with our daughter. I had to fight so hard against the depression, but I was able to get my self moving. My emotional freak out was over, but my nerves were still on fire and my emotions were raw, like someone had rubbed them across a cheese grater. It was the first time in a long time that my emotional intensity had manifested as physical pain. Excruciating physical pain and I can't get it to stop. I knew that if there was one promise that I was going to keep to myself today, it would be to write my blog. Hopefully this helps, but I will not be on for the rest of the day - this is as far as I could go.
Deep Breaths, Max. Tomorrow's a new day.
As I continue my life with PTSD, I will share my challenges and discoveries on this blog.