Life takes a bunch of crazy turns. Some you expect, like a mission. Some you don't, like PTSD. But all inevitably will lead you through this life. Right?
I am abundantly blessed. And just like that song "Stronger" (Sara Evans?) Even on my weakest day, I get a little bit stronger.
Work has been a never ending ball of chaos and ridiculousness. I mean really. Full of crazy. No seriously, between a paranoid schizophrenic who liked to talk to the voices and sing songs, to the teenager who enjoyed the taste of writing utensils and thus had a strong fascination of swallowing them. Whole. Strange. Otherwise, work has been just dandy. My partner is stinking hilarious, which makes my life easier. It's a lot nicer working 48 hour shifts when I don't hate my partner. I've been blessed with all 3 of my 48-hour shift partners. My supervisors have been inordinately kind to me lately. I wonder whether or not this is a ploy to be kind before they can me for something. Yikes.
The Winstons were kind enough to give me a bike! It's so much lighter than my current bike. It's also a giant bike. For a small Dibe, that makes things a little challenging. I mean, the seat can down sufficiently, however, the seat to handle bar distance is a little farther than I can usually handle. Ha ha. Get it.... Yeah... It's great going down the hill on South Boulder, I feel like I'm flying. Yikes! And awesome.
I've been working hard on preparing for a mission, which seems to be extraordinarily more and more difficult. Between finances and getting my brain shrunk, it's been a ride. I'm ready to get on the road, I'm ready to get in the field. Which frankly, is a foreign feeling for me. To go from "I don't want to go" to "I'll go...I guess" to "Alright, get me out there!" All the while, being stuck with "this is a baaaaad idea!!!" But here we are, a few months out, and I'm ready to go.
I've been toying with the idea of sharing more of the deep stuff around here. I have a paper journal, that I write in almost daily. But on the other hand, I wonder what it would be like to just be honest. Not my version of honesty where I tell people what they want to hear, or what I assume they want to hear. Not the version of honesty where it's sunshine and daisies all the time. But the real stuff. The hard stuff. I am ambivalent, simply because to put my thoughts out there is far more vulnerability than I ever allow myself. Always in control all the time. That's how I live. But then I think about how I've looked to the internet for answers for my problems. Like when I was told that I have PTSD. My first stop, Interwebs. Blogs. I wanted to read about others and their ideas, their thoughts. I wanted to know that I wasn't the only person fighting this stupid disorder. I did what any red-blooded 21st century brat would do. I googled. I traipsed through countless blogs written by combat soldiers, by childhood abuse survivors, by assault and rape survivors, and I'm struck that I'm not fighting this alone. While I may not be ready to tell the world my story. Because really, my story is still mine. Still something that I don't know how to pull out. Something I'm not willing to pull out yet. But, I'm not afraid right now. I'm not afraid to admit the truth. I have PTSD and I go to counseling. And eventually, I won't be broken anymore. So, you know what, world? Deal with it.This time is now my time. To heal. To grow. and I am so ready for it.
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