I think, I’m safe to say that I’m a solution oriented person. And I think, I’m sensing a positive outlook at the core of my being, a positive person by nature. The person I should have and could have been, weren’t it for traumatic experiences in early infancy. And that’s what make this entire condition suck some grave ass: There doesn’t seems to be a solution. Sure, EMDR. Sure, prolonged exposure, ego states, CBT/DBT and whatnot. Or simply beta blockers to dull down the physical reflexes manifested by the hippocampus, if all else fails – and hoping for the brain to “unlearn” the almost set-in-stone fear response automatism. Only: Where are the cured ones shouting their recovery from the roof tops…? (OK, granted: Amber Lyon does.)

In my experience, this thing often feels like some extra cruel version of Groundhog Day: The same thing happens over and over again, with little tinges of different flavors from one time to the next, maybe. But basically always remaining to be the same. A neverending cycle of pain, rooted in one simple thing: We’re different! Always different from the rest, never blending in, never 100% compatible with any given peer group. Or was it just me? I don’t think so, but I love to find myself corrected.

As a teen, I read the saga of Sisyphus – and it immediately made sense to me! I didn’t even have to second guess it, I just got it! Because I must have sensed that his story is very similar to my own – for different reasons, maybe, but I’ve more often than not felt as if I had been cursed by a demon entity prior to landing on this crazy planet.

I mean – seriously: To put up with the outcomes of CPTSD for decades is one thing. And we all know what it takes, what it has taken. Fine. And then in addition to that there are your everyday challenges, like e.g. single-parenting a minor, tending to an elderly family member, all the while doing your best to keep your nose above water in that crazy rat race that has no regard for human needs and the human condition altogether – prior “history” or not. And every time, I mean every single fucking time when I think, I’m just about to come on par with the rest of my peers,  when I feel only an inch away from finally blending in and no longer standing out, just when I think, I might have succeeded in “rising above” the condition – it is that very precise moment something or someone lashes back at me with a vengeance, as if a message had to be sent that says “No! Not you! Everyone else, but you!”. That’s how it feels anyway. And that’s what’s actually happened enough times for me to finally lose all spirit in even bothering to try any longer. Plus: The loneliness of this path (I’m sorry, if this sounds like disregarding your comments or your support. It’s not. When I say “loneliness”, I’m coming from a place of focussing on that high bar that the rest of “them” sets – regardless of the burden anyone might haul over the place already).

It’s fucking exhausting. It’s unrewarding. It … doesn’t make any sense. Who in their right mind would keep making an effort for something that won’t ever manifest? Isn’t that the very definition of “crazy”? To have lost all sense of proportion? And yet, that’s exactly what must be done in order to ever get anywhere.

If only I did….


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