Triggers and Hope

Last night, I was watching The Bachelor and enjoying supplying and reading comedic commentary with my friends via a group text. I was enjoying myself and laughing, looking forward to when these particular friends come to visit me in the Spring. Then, I was reading a text and didn't notice that the next show had come on. It was The Good Doctor, a great show with excellent actors. It also happens to be a medical show. When I was recovering from my surgeries, I used to force myself to watch Grey's Anatomy in small doses and I would turn the channel when the crying and/or throwing up and/or flashbacks would begin. Medical shows now are not something I choose to watch, but I don't have flashbacks every time I see a minute or two by accident anymore. But for some reason, last night my PTSD wouldn't let me look away. There was surgery and brain surgery. And I was incredibly triggered.
I didn't realize what was happening until I found myself in the fetal position on my bed with my husband holding me tightly and both my dogs alerting and grounding me while I rocked and screamed that I didn't want these memories in my head. That I wanted to cut my memories out of my brain. That I wanted it all to stop. That I know I'm not a combat victim but that I've seen the other side and I want to forget. I want to forget it all. Every traumatic experience, every man that followed me or held me down, every cut of the surgerical knife, every time I hurtled towards the other side, every thing I've seen and felt, every hurt that has stayed with me. I want to forget.
I screamed and cried and Ray held me and whispered comfort in my ear and both dogs did their grounding skills like their furry lives depended on it and soon my sobs became less harsh and I was able to breathe again. Then, my husband told me a funny story that made me laugh so loudly that I felt my head clear like cobwebs getting swabbed out with a mop.
I thought I was getting ahead of this. But this was just a reminder that PTSD never fully heals. It is with you for life and you are not weak for not "letting it go" or "getting over it" or whatever. Many things can help you manage the symptoms, but anyone who claims to have a cure is selling a load of horseshit. This is a good thing to remember when posts about people changing their lives and curing incurable diseases seem to be abundant. The New Year brings new scams and new people trying to make a buck off of those of us who are sick. They know we're sick of being sick. They know we're tired. They know we're doing whatever we can to try to get better and that we feel all kinds of pressure from everyone to heal and get completely better and that we feel like we are a burden and it is our job to fix ourselves. And they prey on us. Don't let them. Don't buy their products, don't enroll in their programs. Buy products and enroll in programs that will help you, by all means! But anyone who says they can cure you is not truthful. And this is a painful thing to realize. That we're incurable. That this is with us for life. And, if you're like me, you go through multiple bouts of grieving and probably will for life. Get a support system. Get help. Get your symptoms managed. And attempt to live your best life possible. And that life can look beautiful. I promise.
This post is a mess