The End of Radio Silence
So much crazy has been going on, in fact, that I have fallen into one of my old habits of bottling things up and shutting down; hence the radio silence.
PTSD allows you a certain amount of crazy in your day to day surroundings before you break. Over the last 7 months or so, I have reached my crazy threshold by 12:00 p.m. just by keeping up with the news. It seems like every single day I find myself thinking, "Oh, what the fuck did he do now?!" when I get a Breaking News alert. It is either something so horrible that he is eventually going to get us all killed, or it is something so hideous and offensive that I will be triggered for the next few hours at minimum. So, as a survival mechanism, I have been trying to keep my issues boxed away in the attic of my brain so I can just get through these next few years. I haven't written anything on here because that would be opening up this very tightly closed box. There was one thing my "brilliant" plan forgot to factor in: the weight of secrets. I forgot how heavy that box gets when I keep adding more and more into it so I, simply put, don't have to deal with it's contents.
Now I find myself trying desperately to keep my head above water and, until the other night, no one had a clue.