One Year

It has been a year since my life has been turned upside down and inside out.  A year since the walls of my existence crumbled around me and left me feeling raw, exposed, helpless, utterly vulnerable, and alone.

I have learned a lot in this past year.  Built skills on coping, self care, mindfulness, and self preservation.  I am no longer standing on the brink of oblivion, but I am still in the shadows.  Through this experience my family has thankfully stayed intact and has gathered around me to be a shield to the nightmares.

I am still picking up the pieces.  My life has changed in ways I didn't think was possible.  My short and long term goals have all changed.  Most of the time I work day to day or moment to moment.  The future is fuzzy and vague.

I try to use my new skills to heed my self-loathing, self-doubt, and sense of failure.  It just feels weird.

In less than an hour my life changed.  Will I be defeated forever?  I certainly hope not.

I count my progress in things like brushing my teeth everyday for several days in a row.  That I still put on my uniform correctly and go to work like I'm supposed to.  That I'm learning how to let down my guard and really tell my medical providers how I feel, what I'm worried about, what hurts or aches, and ask for help.

How does one reconcile the hope and potential of a promising career, knowing your family is provided for and their needs met, with the stark contrast of your new reality?  That you cannot go back and do your job, that you are in limbo, having gone through therapy and treatment nearly everyday of the week for months and facing the military's process of separation?  Knowing it wasn't your fault.  Knowing how one event tipped a cascade of so many other things that even your spouse, your best friend, doesn't understand?

I am so scared of the unknown and what may happen.  When I realized I'm feeling or thinking that way, I remind myself that I don't know the future and try to remember what I do actually have control over.

Often times I sit at the computer and read news articles.  It's my choice form of avoidance.  Has been since my eldest was a baby, when he actually slept between his frequent feedings and screaming fits I would read on the internet.  Now I know what I'm doing, so I try to do other things.  I read books.  I work on crafts like sewing or cross-stitching.  I get a timer and aim to spend X more minutes with my spouse and children, nearly every time I forget the timer and enjoy whatever interaction we have.  Then someone starts to fuss and whine or scream, and I start zoning out again.  I used to be so nurturing and now I shut down.  Some days you wouldn't know I get like that, others it seems to be all I do.  Then I feel guilty.  And the self criticisms start all over.

My anxiety picks up little bits each day.  Its never constant, but seems worse just before and some during my period.  If there are triggers, it's really bad.  I hate feeling like that.  I know I'm not dying or anything, but my racing heart and cool sweat and hyper-awareness just takes a lot out of me.  And the nightmares are awful.

I don't sleep well.  I'm a light sleeper when I have a baby that's nursing, but this past year is worse than that.  Way worse.  When I do sleep better, I'll wake up three or four times a night and have weird to benign dreams.  Usually, I wake more often and will have mildly disturbing to bad dreams.  Then there are the nights I don't sleep but toss and turn, and doze long enough to have nightmares.  Reliving your worst experiences, bad things from books or movies, your worst fears, etc.  I struggle sleeping for days after.