PTSD & My Fucked Up Heart
by muddy feet mama
In the five + months since Jay died I have known 3 people diagnosed with cancer and three people die of cancer – the majority of them young. This does not include the folks in my cancer support group and their escalating maladies – the majority of them are young as well. I have a lot to offer these patients and family members – insights from four years in the trenches – but the onslaught has me hiding under my covers. Trench warfare can leave you with emotional trauma. Do I have PTSD?
I find myself reflecting on the people who disappeared when Jay was in treatment with renewed compassion. Some people were uncharacteristically mean, some shockingly glib, some total chicken-shit – folks I would have never expected to behave the way they did… but seen through the lens of trauma I think I understand. I do understand. I have found myself glib lately too, uncharacteristically so. I look into myself for reserves to share with people who have given me so much and instead I find anxiety and exhaustion. That PTSD question was rhetorical. I know the answer.
I am not sure how well I can support my friends-in-need while hiding under my covers – I’m open to suggestions. But I do know that forgiveness is healing, and whatever grudges I’ve held towards anyone who failed us I can feel melt away with my new understanding of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder & my own fucked up heart.
No hard feelings.