Some days are easy. Some days PTSD symptoms are like the disruptive kid in the class who has finally learned that you can’t talk over the teacher, or play trucks loudly in the middle of the classroom when the other kids are trying to work quietly – as long as you keep up constant vigilance and supervision, things run smoothly and you can keep going with your lesson plan.
Other days are not easy. Other days it doesn’t matter what you do – if you’re going to have a flashback, or a panic attack, or be assailed by memories when you’re trying to concentrate on something else, it’s going to happen regardless of all the things you do that normally work. You can’t stop it no matter how hard you try, no matter what mindfulness techniques you use or how you tell yourself that you’re safe and nothing can hurt you. Turns out that the part of the brain where fear lives is that kid in the class who doesn’t always do what the teacher says.
So those days come. Today was one of those days. Tomorrow might be too, but it probably won’t. I’ll get an early night, and tomorrow I’ll give thanks for a new day, and hope for the best.