Losing My Wingman

I have explained how PTSD affects the brain in an earlier post in my best layman’s terms. Hopefully it was still decipherable after I tried to wrap my head around it.

The part that is easiest to understand is what I take the beta blocker for, to avoid increasing my heart rate, and thus never experience the chemical dump that occurs when fight or flight is triggered. Taking this Propanolol has had a huge impact on the quality of my life, and my sleep, which again improves quality of life.
But I still am not quite where I was before living in a traumatizing environment for those years.

Sometimes I feel it, when I am successfully refereeing the kids and doing something else at the same time, that I am myself, effortless, relaxed, not anxious. It is too rare.

So, though I happened across the advice a long time ago regarding PTSD and reducing symptoms, I am finally ready to listen.

I have to kick the coffee. It’s like slaying a part of my identity. Ripping off a piece of my soul. Burning into ashes what might be left of the poetry I wrote in my youth in smoky coffeehouses. Enough drama.

I cannot decide if I should cold turkey or taper down. I think the indecision is a delay tactic. Sneaky little addicted brain.

My dearest friend, in all flavors and guises. I hope not to miss you. I hope our parting brings new calm.

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2 thoughts on “Losing My Wingman

  1. I hope it brings you calm as well. We all take advice and implement changes only when we finally are ready.
    (And don’t worry about the coffee. A dear friend she may be–but monogamy has never been her strongest quality. She will not lack for shoulders to cry on. đŸ˜‰ )

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