When PTSD gets restimulated


PTSD (Post Traimatic Stress Disorder). 

I’ve been dealing with it since layoffs in 2015.

I thought I was over it.

No more night terrors, so cured, right?

Not yet, apparently.

Triggers can come from anywhere.

This time, a Facebook post about oil reserves in the Permian Basin by the USGS (US Geological Survey). Where I started in industry. ” THAT could be interesting!”

No…you’re about to walk off a cliff…stick with cute baby reindeer…

I read the article and posed a question asking about where the numbers came from, just curious to see if I still “had it” in case I got sent to Mars…

I love numbers and I used to do these sizing and recovery numbers professionally.

Suddenly, I felt that “elephant-on-my-chest” crushing sensation.

And the constrictor demon whispered “worthlessssss”…unwanted”…”dumb”

Did I make any difference on this planet as a female geologist?

Or did I waste 30 years of my life?

Did I work hard and earn a Masters’ degree in the school of Mines and Engineering for nothing?

Constrictor tightened its grip on me.

Tears welled.

The anaconda grimaced…

OMG, what’s happening?

I’m supposed to have it together and be working out right now.

But I’m paralyzed.

I think it’s everyone’s worst fear.

That their life had no meaning.

That they blazed paths for no one.

This feeling will pass but when the storm is swirling around you, it seems like it won’t.

Just breathe.

The past is gone.

What can I do?

“Hide Post” on Facebook.

Excuse myself when people “talk shop”.

It’s my own deal. My own panic-prone demon I must work through.

What can I do?

Look at cute things online, like those adorable baby reindeer.

Go outside.

Write about it, name it, face it.

There is no shame in PTSD no matter what kind of war you fought. “Shell shock” is real.

Breathe.

And do the next right thing.
Image from livingdinos.com

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2 thoughts on “When PTSD gets restimulated

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