How long? Until you feel better. Until that hopeless feeling is gone. Until the memory is just a thought from yesterday. Until you can look at that person and not show fear.until it doesn’t bother you to hear others talk about what happened to you. That’s how long.

Some things take a lifetime of healing. You don’t stop living because trauma happened. A part of you doesn’t exist anymore. It died the day trauma took place. For awhile, you may seem like you’re hanging in limbo. You see life and people in gray. It’s o.k. take as long as you need, but don’t stay there too long. You have to use the existing parts of you to recover and survive.

I did. Look at me now❣

The 4th of July is coming to an end. My grandson, Jaycee’ will be 5 tomorrow.

Today is one of the days I find it very easy to be in the company of others by body alone. I smile the occasional smile, give eye contact when necessary and make comments about the topic.

I am actually in a brain fog. I’m trying to sort out why I keep feeling fatigued. I have had 2 episodes of full panic attacks with no reason for the onset.

Yes, I am still taking all meds and will not get to see the primary care doctor until some time in March.

Mentally, I am maintaining. By that I mean, the pandemic has not taken too much of an affect on me. I’m a home body naturally. I do not socialize in person or with groups. Not as of yet, anyway. I’m working on it. Most of the time, I’m in my room reading, watching TV, listening to music or eating. But this too is getting old.

I have been debating this up until now. Here as promised, the video of my books and some of the pens.

It’s been awhile. Since the pandemic, my thoughts have been elsewhere. I can’t say that anxiety has not come knocking, because it has. I seem to have drifted back to one of my coping strategies. Purchasing books. I love to read and that’s not the problem. The problem is that I am not reading what is purchased!

The books feel like a security blanket of some sort. The more I buy, the worse I feel. Yes, I feel worse. I had spoken with my therapist previously when I was in therapy. He seemed to think that it was an o.k. phase. Sort of like the numerous pens I have been collecting for years! I laugh at and to myself. Is he serious?! He was. He told me these where 2 of the things that meant a great deal to me during my childhood. Because I didn’t have very many pretty pens, I became fascinated with being able to purchase the things I wanted. The books, just an added bonus.

Well, I am going to show a video, just not today. I do believe I am on my way to healing, the road is long right now since I kind of turned back.

I haven’t written in a while because I couldn’t. I hate that. I hate when I can’t read. I hate when I can’t write. Mostly, I hate when I can’t sleep. I’ve been asleep for a short time. 11:00 p.m. to about 2:00 a.m.