Even something as simple as a visitor unexpected, delighted in, yet unplanned, in addition to a skype call from Cory with his little angle Quinn, then the grand-kids later for tubing down the hill, cocoa, and dinner altogether when the parents returned…. whew, putting it in writing makes it harder to say simple.
A quiet, albeit peaceful life with Samuel, is gladly interrupted with a fun interaction with others, but so much altogether on one day was too much for my easily stimulated body. It was no fault of mine, things happen. Sleep would not come.
The dreaded sleep aid was necessary, making me groggy all the next day. There was no other way to calm down a nervous system that gets overstimulated. That is the life-long damage of PTSD, which can occur when trauma is not processed at the time it happens. Even fun things cause my body to do this.
A day of quiet restored equilibrium, but the day felt wasted doing little to nothing except rest. The need to keep reminding myself that rest is needed, and this is not my fault, or flaw, or lack of character, was repeated throughout the day. I’m hardly a believer in anything except it being my fault. It is a tough job to calm me, to keep quiet, to keep still, to silence my worrisome, self-blaming mind.
Sleep returned to the usual pattern- GRATITUDE. Now the usual heart healthy activities can be resumed; meditation, work-outs, cooking lots of vegetables, and other healthy fare, and trying to protect my delicate internal workings which are too often pushed too far. It doesn’t seem to seep in, though if listening there is a little voice saying, ‘no, too much.’
The most important work needing attention, is countering the harsh bully, challenging the awful thoughts which pound relentlessly. That is the work most challenging, and most needed. When that comes first, all else falls into place.