I have been lost in a world that I didn’t know I was lost in for many years. I hid what was really going on inside of me so well that everyone around me thought that I was “perfect”. I found comfort in controlling everything, keeping my home OCD clean, raising two boys on my own, working three jobs, balancing friends, family, work, life as if I were in a circus show. I was so good at all of this that when I finally dropped all the balls I had been juggling no one knew what was going on. No one knew how to help me. I slowly sheltered myself from everyone and everything. Putting distance between myself and my life as if I were in a race to save humanity. Honestly, I was racing to save humanity. I wanted so badly to protect the ones I love from the scary truth that lurked inside me that I became everything except who I am.

As the PTSD and anxiety took over I had created what some may call a very tangled web of lies, deceit and unforgiving actions. I lashed out and became someone that sabotaged everything that meant something to me. EXCEPT my boys. I held them so tightly to protect them for all the hurt that I had seen. The abuse, rape, stalking, unfaithfulness…the list goes on and on. I tried so hard to keep them from seeing all the bad that I absorbed it all.

Now…what’s left? Well I finally found the man I hope to one day spend the rest of my life with. He convinced me that I needed help when he saw the ugliness that hid inside me. So I looked for help. I looked everywhere. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of helping someone that goes through the ugliness of anxiety and PTSD. How do you explain to the man you love that when he raises his hands too suddenly you are fearful of him striking you? How do you explain to your children that mommy really is okay even though she cries every day? How do you find the strength to keep seeking help when everywhere you turn it’s another dead end, another feeling of failure?

My questions stack up faster than I can ever find an answer for…and maybe that’s the key to all of this…maybe we stop asking questions…maybe we just let it all happen and hope for the best. Maybe the medications will work, maybe they will find one that doesn’t make you feel worse. Maybe there’s a way to stop the terrifying nightmares that haunt me day and night. Maybe just maybe “every little ting is gonna be alright.”


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