All Quiet on the Western Front
All is quiet on the western front. Or eastern front. The kids are still sleeping, as is my sister. Just me and the dogs right now. Very peaceful.
The sun is out today. It's amazing how something as small as a sunny day can make all the difference in the world. We'll go to the beach for a while. Work on painting the garage later in the day.
I'm still battling exhaustion. I've been up two hours and could easily take a nap right now. I'll walk the beach instead, hoping to get some energy from the exercise.
"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, is an anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to a terrifying event or ordeal in which grave physical harm occurred or was threatened. Traumatic events that may trigger PTSD include violent personal assaults, natural or human-caused disasters, accidents, or military combat."
Um... yeah.
"People with PTSD have persistent frightening thoughts and memories of their ordeal and feel emotionally numb, especially with people they were once close to. They may experience sleep problems, feel detached or numb, or be easily startled."
Yup, yup and yup.
I realize this is what is going on right now for me. I cannot concentrate, I am on edge and have been struggling with sleep. There is a special added quality that this all involves my sister, and she and I went through so much as children together.
One would think we've been through enough but... I guess not.
I'm working on being in the present. I took the boys shopping yesterday- yet another rainy day and new shoes were in need.
Ben is a size eleven foot. Good lord.
We sit around the dinner table, with our usual loud, boisterous conversation. I have a press release to write, something I love to do. So much is normal, so much is not.
I'm going to try and think about what Buddha would do. I have a small statue of a fabulously fat Buddha smiling in my living room (why have a skinny Buddha? just seems wrong). The sun is dancing on the floor in front of him, not quite there but still, he smiles.
I know a piece of it is not owning what is not mine. Letting go. Breathing in the fresh air, my children's laughter, and the smell of bacon cooking.
What's done is done.
The sun is out today. It's amazing how something as small as a sunny day can make all the difference in the world. We'll go to the beach for a while. Work on painting the garage later in the day.
I'm still battling exhaustion. I've been up two hours and could easily take a nap right now. I'll walk the beach instead, hoping to get some energy from the exercise.
"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, is an anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to a terrifying event or ordeal in which grave physical harm occurred or was threatened. Traumatic events that may trigger PTSD include violent personal assaults, natural or human-caused disasters, accidents, or military combat."
Um... yeah.
"People with PTSD have persistent frightening thoughts and memories of their ordeal and feel emotionally numb, especially with people they were once close to. They may experience sleep problems, feel detached or numb, or be easily startled."
Yup, yup and yup.
I realize this is what is going on right now for me. I cannot concentrate, I am on edge and have been struggling with sleep. There is a special added quality that this all involves my sister, and she and I went through so much as children together.
One would think we've been through enough but... I guess not.
I'm working on being in the present. I took the boys shopping yesterday- yet another rainy day and new shoes were in need.
Ben is a size eleven foot. Good lord.
We sit around the dinner table, with our usual loud, boisterous conversation. I have a press release to write, something I love to do. So much is normal, so much is not.
I'm going to try and think about what Buddha would do. I have a small statue of a fabulously fat Buddha smiling in my living room (why have a skinny Buddha? just seems wrong). The sun is dancing on the floor in front of him, not quite there but still, he smiles.
I know a piece of it is not owning what is not mine. Letting go. Breathing in the fresh air, my children's laughter, and the smell of bacon cooking.
What's done is done.
posted by Sara at 7:51 AM
10 Comments:
OMG size 11. My former size 11 kid is off in California. He's now size 13 and stands 6'8" tall.
You've got your pack around you, all noses counted. Now it's time to get into some more trouble. Or maybe just the beach.
Just wanted to thank you for the reminder that staying in our process...in the moment is the best gift we can give ourselves and those around us. Keep breathing!
amazing how a sunny day can go a long way to help get out of a funk. a night at the ballgame without rain (and a win) helped too! hope you enjoyed the beach and took some time to live for the moment.
the molding is up on the ceiling, but only after lots of cussing!! i think it looks good, but what will walter think??
"a night at the ballgame without rain (and a win) helped too!"
Oh, you Red Sox people. Must you rub it in?
signed,
Long-Suffering O's fan ....
Love that bacon!
Sue- give it up and relieve yourself of the suffering.
that budda is the wallpaper on my phone. reminds one to breath everyonce in a while.
Yes, me too. THe PTSD, the sister, the letting go, the children. Hello!
Morgan, I always believe if the Red Sox can turn everything around and win the World Series, anything is possible!
Watch out, Sara! The little short one is trying to pick a fight.
Coming from a family who prided themselves in not being able to be knock over because our feet were so big (actually, it would look like the Bozo Boxer), I would say your son is on the right path!
uh, he's actually a little taller than me. little jerk. must take away the healthy food.
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