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The constant terror

It's wearing me out, the constant terror. From loud streets to banging dishes, I feel everything as a threat. And I hate it, so much!

It’s wearing me out, the constant terror. From loud streets to banging dishes, I perceive everything as a threat.

I won’t lie – there are many aspects of PTSD that I hate! Chief among them is the grip it has on me. Man, it’s so tight, it’s damn near a death grip. With that said, there are many things about this disorder I detest. I often say to myself. “I hate that it’s messing with my freedom.”

Next on the list is PTSD’s startle response. I am so saddened by the constant terror I experience, just simply walking down the street. Even though I do my best to be social, I am not very good at it. And it’s not because I don’t want to. It’s just that being scared out of my skin twenty times a day acts as fuel for my depression. With every jump, the darkness engulfs me. Most times, from the inside out.

While this is a special kind of hell, being incased in my own fear and held together by the container I live in, the pain isn’t the only thing, far from it. Coursing through my veins is a mistrust that has left a trail of destruction in its wake.

Symptoms of PTSD

I guess it’s not a stretch to say that these are the top three of the worst symptoms. Therefore, I consider them nightmare fuel for my depression. And I wonder why my progress is slow. When I stop and look at it all, the root cause seems to be the hypervigilance. Maybe a better way to think of it is that this constant activation of fear is the common denominator.

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Moreover, it’s not just a few things that trigger this response – it’s everything! I see everything as a potential threat. If it’s not cars passing me on the highways, it’s someone scraping a chair across the floor of a cafe. Yes, you name it, it can light the fuse.

The constant terror
Photo by Maksim Romashkin on

I am exhausted, but not ready to surrender, and I may be terrified, but grateful to be alive.

Healing is slow, but I am not yet ready to go, I am willing to soldier on,

until the trauma is all but gone.

Jonathan Arenburg

In those momenets

20 authors from the military and emergency services tell their story of PTSD.

My advice to others suffering from PTSD, depression, or any mental illness: Is measuring every inch of progress as a major sucess? In my case, if it weren’t for therapy, I would be locked in the confines of the bedroom I call home. Yet despite this, I am sitting here in a cafe writing this blog post. With that said, I am ready to call it a day. I have reached my limit and that’s okay… It’s a major win for me that I get out at all. So, what’s your success story? Let me know!

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