Battling the Storm Within

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

What Little Steps Mean for Someone With Complex PTSD


I wake up most mornings, if I’ve managed to sleep despite the monstrous cocktail of medications I take, gasping for air, bolting to an upright sitting position and clutching my chest. It feels like my chest is caving in. It takes me a minute to figure out where I am, what year it is and if I’m in another nightmare. Yes, kind of like “Inception.” My mind has turned on me, warping every noise and every step into a dangerous situation. This is normal for me, although I use the term “normal” loosely.

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