photos by patricia
The mornings feel like fall, cool, damp and with a wet echo-like sound from cars in the distance. Contentment found easily dissolves even from little things. A disruptive thought repeatedly bangs in my head as it rests on the pillow awaiting sleep.
Hopping out of bed to rant at Samuel over not enough to do so over seemed the only remedy. Expelling the vomit did help though left us both feeling bruised. Going to bed a bit later, sleep, blessed sleep came. He hadn’t gotten so upset that his sleep was interrupted and that soothed me.
Part of keeping a contented equilibrium is choice yet the PTSD brain can go haywire without my permission. Little things can set it off. Control what can be controlled, let go of the rest…