You know how I said yesterday that tomorrow would probably be better? I was wrong. Funny, there was nothing wrong with today, as such. It’s simply that I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything. I had a successful meeting with colleagues, several good visits with clients, and a piece of chocolate; it was a sunny day and there was good music on the radio when I was driving out to my home-visits. Now I’m drinking peppermint tea and listening to Beethoven’s Third Symphony. There is lots to look forward to in the next month or so and I just found out that the choir is singing some of my favourite music in August. But I am separated from it all by a bleak fog, and I have no idea why.
Maybe I just need sleep. Maybe there’s some weird emotional chemical thing going on in my brain. Maybe this is the natural down in the gradual rise and fall of my recovery from and journey through PTSD – because the blessings in my life outweigh the things I hate, and the general trend is up. It’s just that these last couple of days have been shitty.
I’ll get through it. I’ve got through so much more, I’m a survivor. I’ll survive this too, and like everything else I will be stronger for it, and more compassionate, and more who I truly am. And maybe it’s ok to have crappy days. Maybe that’s my mind, my soul, telling me to take a bit of a break. So self-care, and keeping the faith that I’ll get through this, and listening to good music and letting those who love me show me some TLC – and maybe just a little bit of comfort eating. Just a little bit. That’s ok, right?