Responsibilities, Relationships, Compulsions and Convictons

I am sitting here trying to think of something to write that would be relevant and contribute to an understanding of PTSD. Well, I just can not think of anything. So I will go back to core of what I want this blog to be about; my relationship with PTSD and how it effects my life.

I find that I do not want to go outside or engage in society. Responsibilities and relationships pull me out of my den of security and help me continue my journey. I had plastic on my windows to help with retaining heat in the winter. My girlfriend had suggested that I remove it so I could have some sunlight come in. That the rays of light would have some benefit to my overall wellbeing. I relented and asked my son to remove it, she was right of course.

My apartment has become my cave of comfort and insulator of the world outside. My newly adopted principles of accountability and dependability have me making and keeping appointments. I have one such meeting at the VA for an endoscopy to check my upper intestines, I have a history of duodenal ulcers and Barret's esophagus. So, I go forward because my balance depends on foiling the fall backwards. OK, OK stop it!

I am obsessing over the inclusion of words that start with the same letter or have some symbolism or similar spelling. See, I'm doing it again. I was just writing some prose and got on a roll and was inspired to write some here. My mind goes into these circles of creativity circulating the circumference of creation.

Again, I go off into divergent ideation. This type of thinking consumes me at times, even when others may be trying to relate or conversate. See, and I have to make up words at times to relegate or instigate my compulsion to do. Belly breathing, meditation, slowing the mind, letting go of concentration and finding the peace within.

What the hell does all this have to do with PTSD? Well, all of it. Byproducts of the corrugated mind, vacillating back and forth between obsession, compulsion, integrity and responsibility. It all relates to how my mind can go racing at times, in the past I would have feed into this mode of thinking. Like a manic episode of intense emotions turned into anxiety because I knew how to channel chaos, it feed my addiction. I can feel the endorphins racing through me settling down as I meditate on nothingness. My body wants to revel in the feeling that the hormones give, triggering synaptic responses releasing a flood of conviction.

Relations, relationships and boundaries abound in my thinking. Boundaries, up until three years ago I had never had a concept of boundaries. Oh, I felt when someone crossed mine, but experinced it as an assault of my person. It was there, just disconnected and without an association to me, a fractured personality. The inability to perceive a distinction between my emotions and self or any of my bounds led to a battlefield of destruction as trust broke down to sever the connections. It was a revelation to know and define the radius of my personal perceptual periphery. To know and understand that I can and do reside outside of and within myself, this field of comprehension helps me to relate with myself and others while retaining my relations.