The return of PTSD. Or as I call it: “being dragged back into hell.” Life has been way too chaotic in recent years. PTSD kicked me right in the butt again for the third time in 18 months. To say that I’m drowning in pain is an understatement. Life is filled with misadventures, good times and misery.

On Monday, the pain returned. It was like my depression caught me, arrested me and dragged me back to hell. There I go in my prison cell again. Charged with a crime that I didn’t commit, but was still found guilty.

It was also Monday that I got sick (physically) and I could feel the storm brewing inside me. I got out my various coping mechanisms like writing, drinking a lot of herbal tea, sleeping, and eating well. Taking deep breaths help, but I have to stop a very noisy brain filled with so much anger, sadness, and trauma. I shiver whenever I see someone on a bike. I get angry at others and angry with myself for falling off my bike. I didn’t expect to be strapped for cash or breaking a hand, but it was all an accident. I keep telling myself that it happens and that everything will be fine. My brain says otherwise. Guilt is something that I need to let go of.

Lately, I’ve been in no mood for anything. My attitude is so bad that if one person sets me off, I just may go off on someone. I talked to my doctor, and she said if there’s anything that I need that she’s there. I just need to get out of this funk and stop blaming myself. Three episodes of PTSD in 18 months would set most people off. I don’t know how I manage to stay sane and well controlled. Higher power? Maybe.

I had a lot of plans for myself in the coming months. I was going to start selling collectibles online to earn extra cash, but that’s not an option right now with my hand and with other financial issues. I was planning on upgrading my workouts and maybe join a fitness center, but I can’t now. I also wanted to make some other changes in my life, too, but I can’t. Right now, I feel locked up in prison until my hand heals up.

My mood has been so bad that some can tell the difference. It’s not to the point of hospitalization, it’s mainly that I’m really angry with myself. I can be my own worst critic than anyone else.

Being assaulted by guilt, anger, and depression is rough. Someone how I always manage to overcome it even though I feel as if I can’t take it anymore. Yesterday was my mom’s birthday, and I was happy for her. I really didn’t feel like I gave her the best birthday because of my recent struggles. I got her a funny card with a dog on it. She loved it. And let her pick out her own cake. Even took her to lunch and dinner. I couldn’t enjoy it because I’m suffering and felt like crap because I couldn’t buy her anything because I’m short on funds. Thankfully, she understood.

Who knows how long this next battle of PTSD will last? I really hope it’s the last of it for a while. In the meantime, I surround myself with a positive attitude and the support of real family and friends. Hopefully, soon I can return to my life and pick things up right where I left off. For now, I just need to be patient and think on the bright side.