My PTSD Doctor

I saw the doctor again yesterday. I have two more sessions. I am making slow going through the book he recommended.
He taught me a breathing technique.
Take a sniff.
Hold it.
Hold empty.

It dropped my heartrate by twelve in less than a minute.

I am still reacting to things as I did in my old abusive environment. My ex would hit the children and myself or scream at me if they were laughing too loud, or wrestling, or goofing off. It’s an awful thing, to realize you are discouraging your children from laughing hysterically or playing happily, because of conditioning by an abuser. One that you have left, years ago. I am supposed to catch myself quieting the children down, and then talk myself out of it. Nothing will happen to us, nothing of much consequence, if we make happy noise in our apartment.
You can take yourself out of the abusive environment, remove the abuser from your life, and still find him there in your head. So very disturbing to discover. I got a haircut today, walking out of the salon, I put my hand up to feel the shortness in the back, and was reassured that it is again too short to pick me up by, much less throw me with. I don’t want to strategize for that, anymore.

The doctor was reassuring. He said he has patients still reacting to things that happened to them fifty years ago…

I am working on it.


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