Feel ALL The Feels!

I'm back! I'm going back to school next week after a two year get-your-shit-together hiatus! I'm painting and drawing again! I sometimes even eat things that aren't cereal for supper! I'm winning!

And yet, I'm not. Not fully, anyway.

I feel like my brain is haunted. That's what PTSD feels like. I am so thankful for all of the progress I've made and for the people who supported me -

And yet:
I still feel frozen anytime I am looked at or spoken to by a stranger; I find it paralyzing to leave my house to walk my dog or buy groceries or do anything, really; I avoid people like the plague and hate crowds because my ideal personal space bubble is the size of a football field; the sound of people partying will guarantee the fetal position because my tentative hold on a sense of safety has been obliterated; if I could be completely invisible that would be ok with me; when told I could be escorted to my car on campus if I was nervous walking alone, it only made me panic more - because nothing puts me at ease more than a big dude walking beside me...; I've actually injured myself fighting off nightmares (and the people in those nightmares); talking about any of this makes my intestines shrivel up.
This list is incomplete but the emotions they evoke are not. They are whole. They are ever-present. And they demand a voice.

Things currently rolling around in my haunted brain at nearly 3 a.m.: yay school! Oh my god I have to be around people when I'm at school! I can't believe I didn't call the cops during the home invasion. Why was I so dumb?! I should paint. Why didn't anyone else call the cops once they found out? Maybe I should eat something. How come the guy gets to go home and forget and be consequence-free and I get to be traumatized by it with no end in sight? I need to clean something. What should I wear tomorrow? Oh my god the injustice! I need to lose weight. I'm probably totally overreacting and I need to just calm down. Or maybe I have every right to be angry? I don't know. Why can't I talk about this? I should sweep. Yeah, the floor definitely looks iffy to me. I don't feel whole. I'm afraid of what my brain is blocking out. I think I need to throw up. I hope it's not too hot tomorrow. Under-boob sweat is the worst. Also I hope I don't run into anyone tomorrow. I CAN'T BELIEVE I DIDN'T CALL THE COPS!