It’s been over three years now of constant distraction. A never ending treadmill of jobs, stress, food, pills, shopping, surface level chats, and social media posts.

A functional wreck with a smile holding back a dam full of tears and acceptance.

Not only have I not dealt with grief, guilt, anger… I have let it eat me up inside and make me disconnect from those around me. The only genuine emotion that sneaks out into the real world is frustration, and I keep a close watch on that.

I need to sit with things in a quiet room and let the feelings feel safe to come out without fear of being pushed down with endless empty entertainment and sugary input.

Initially it was a coping tactic to make sure the PTSD didn’t burn itself so deeply into my brain that I couldn’t get it out. Then it became a habit that kept me functional and available for the needs of those that depend on me. Now it a glass jar keeping all the emotions in and out, and it’s tiring.

Time to risk falling down.