Wow so much can happen in a month. I traveled to my hometown for three weeks and visited New Orleans for the first time. I love NOLA!
We hit a plateau in therapy and treatment. My PTSD symptoms have subsided, depression lifted, and anxiety is manageable. Right around now is when most people quick therapy and treatment. But not me, I’ve been through therapy five times and I know walking away now is just stupid. So I’ll walk across this plateau into another peek or valley until I’m totally healed and healthy.
My hometown makes me sick. I don’t mean that metaphorically I mean it literally. This past month I visited my hometown for three weeks. It was super painful. I was fine for two days, but by day three my anxiety crept back in. I didn’t want to leave my aunt’s house. My skin hurt. My vision blurred. My limbs became super tender. I slept most of the day and my attitude fell into a deep dark place. My only reprieve from the pain was getting to pick my son up from school, take him to his physical therapy, cook for him, and just spend time with him. So I’m learning that my aversion to my hometown isn’t circumstantial it’s so much bigger than that. My therapist is amazing and we chatted via email during my time away.
I got to spend a month with my son. My heart is so full. He’s an incredible human being and I truly do not understand why I’ve been given the privilege of raising him. I love my son so much.
Rising Strong by Brene Brown
I’m loving my life. I know that sounds exaggerated but I’m not exaggerating. I mean it. I love love love my life. My human being is healthy. I live in my favorite city and my apartment is amazing.