A Lil PTSD to Go with Dinner

I had a little PTSD issue this evening. Not ugly, but not my finest moment either. Luckily after a couple minutes of downtime I was able to recognize the emotions running through me for what they were. I apologized and attempted to explain, but literally all I could say was "I didn't do it right." Ghosts of emotions from the past tried to set their claws into me, but I fought like a bitch. This isn't then. This isn't him. This isn't the same at all. I am not that girl anymore.

I practically had to have a conversation with myself in order to come back, but it worked. I pushed the panic that I could feel rising away from me and looked at each step in my little spiral downward clinically.

Ahhhh...yes, the recognition that ya fucked it up.

Ohhhh...there's the guilt! Quickly followed by the monster fear! Damn, that's what did it.

Uh-oh...mega-bitch drop-kicked into play to fight and protect that soft underbelly you've foolishly left open. She's pumping that anger hard to keep any possible tears from falling. Damn, ol' girl is fast.

Whew...was that cold hard reason or control freak that just put mega bitch in time out? Don't know, but it's a good thing mega-bitch was told to chill.

*sigh* I haven't had a PTSD trip for a long time now. Forgot what they were like. Rapid heart rate. Shallow breathing. Nauseous. This was a baby compared to others I've had, but the signs were all there. I was able to snap out of it, but I'm still bothered by the fact that I even had one.

I know why it happened. But that only increases the regret. *sigh*

-Kat