A period of grace…

photos by patricia

Sleep comes night after night most nights. This new bliss is welcomed. The quiet peace of morning is so still that hummingbird wings are the only interruption other than the soft buzz of insects ever present in the background along with the low cooing of a dove.

The red banded hummer perches on the clematis vine overseeing the feeder. I sit nearby sipping coffee warmed by the sun. Golden rays splash down in beams through the thick trees onto the meadow.

Peace and tranquility reign in this little bit of paradise…

PTSD BRAIN

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…