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Day 53 with the Overherd, B-day PTSD Update #1

It’s started, the anxiety, the nausea, the trembling, only it’s much worse than M-Day, F-Day, and J4th. I wonder if I’ll have flashbacks soon….

I didn’t throw up early this morning. The pepto-bismol stopped it. But I was afraid so all I had snuggling me was durable Overcow. And that was not enough. Predictably my parents invaded my work heaven with disastrous results. I’m so going to be paranoid. Which gets in the way of social support of course.

I’m like if I get up I’ll fall, feel like I can’t keep food down. The trembling makes it hard to blog. Constant verge of tears. Constant fear.

But I’ll try to live normally. I have to place myself in the now ( oh gods I almost typed “the future”, I really am subconsciously in the past). I think I’ll sink otherwise.

Next few days will be very rough. Will occupy self with rereading T. A. Pratt’s Marla Mason series. I dunno why. Maybe because she’s also paranoid but kicks ass regardless. Then I will try to reread Harry Potter. At least books 1 and 7.

I starting to not understand things, like the movie of my life is starting to skip and stutter. The first part of the previous sentence doesn’t make sense. Leaving it in to remind myself that I can still work out the nonsense, if on a slight time delay.

Have to keep going or the past will eat me. No other sane choice at this point. So if I blog a ton of entries chronicling thingies that is why. If I commit the PRESENT ( it’s not the future, now is not the past, now is now) to digital I will remember. (My hands shake to much to write, I can’t touch type atm but I can peck keys.) I did say I was a little like Dory, although our memory skips are different and for different reasons.

In other news, before my parents duck fucked up my dreams ((Godsdamn you iPhone auto correct I can swear if I want)), I dreamed I was watching a wikipedia edit war on the main Sherlock Holmes entry. That was hilarious. And then it stopped….

About Arachne Jericho

I write, and other things of course.

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