Not Living Yet Living, PTSD

Time waits for no one.

It’s sobering.

How one human being could turn my life on it’s head and I wafer between strong and weak year after year after year. Not moving forward. Not falling backwards. Nothing ever easy but not always hard….just not easy.

I have purposely taken a break from this…this writing about life, this existence. My existence because I just became tired of hearing myself or my words as I typed them down. My inner voice out loud. So over me. I just wanted to live and not talk about it. Good or bad, just exist. So that’s what I’ve been doing but what does it even mean. I feel like I’m just letting time pass by and now, at my age, I feel it more and more with every sunrise and sunset. I feel myself losing chances to be more, to be brave, and to be everything I want to be but can’t. I don’t need a pep talk or atta girl. I don’t need anything but everything and that just doesn’t mesh. Always circles. Constant cycles. Pros and cons. Too much thought yet too much pain compartmentalized to not have to think just to be able to live. Wtf.

I need.

I want.

But I’m good…enough.

Contradictions. Constant contradictions. Surrounds by such bravery…nerve.


Wasting life yet living.

Afraid to want more. I’m such a coward but not. Contradictions. Constant contradictions.

Just it’s all so fulfilling, so exhausting, and so empty all the time. So afraid of living while living. Aways twists and turns. Always triggers.


Must be.

Why one person? How? One. Did so much damage without permission. There no love there anymore. Zero. The hasn’t been any in years. So how do the triggers still affect me. How does it still control me.

I’m too funny to be so afraid. The bottom always falls out. That’s why I’m standing still in. To afraid to move and fall off the edge.

PTSD, what a bitch you are.

3 thoughts on “Not Living Yet Living, PTSD

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