I think quitting coffee might be the best and easiest thing to help my PTSD.
I have relaxed the hypervigilance since quitting, and I feel less anxious. I have more focus, less memory lapses, and more patience. I never get everything done that I want to do, but I did get just as much done, if not more, than usual. So the only downside is the headache, along with that heavy dull feeling in my head in the morning. This will go away by the end of the week, if previous experience holds true. I quit caffeine with each pregnancy, and I recall it being a week.
The appointment for my yearly physical is at the end of this week. I was planning to ask him for something for anxiety to nip this stress chemical thing in the bud, but I really hate meds. I will not have to ask him, if this week ends up being like today and yesterday.
What is funny is that I used the coffee in the shelter as a sort of soother, a comfort food. Put the kids in the little daycare, and then go and get a cup of coffee and have a cigarette on the patio. If I were lucky some of the other girls would be out there.
I quit the cigarettes when I left the shelter. Like a soldier who only smokes in the field, or a prisoner who only smokes in the pen. I get it, now.
But the coffee is a piece of who I am. I started drinking it at age eleven, because I wanted to be grown up. Now everyone in the generations after mine drinks energy drinks. The coffeepot at work is never used by anyone younger than myself. I like the habit, I like having a taste for it when it seems to be going out of fashion.
I bought decaf in case I couldn’t handle it, but I haven’t used it. I put the regular coffee in the freezer, for guests. Tomorrow I mean to give away my milk frother thing, I never did use it, my taste is too simple and my patience too short.
It is funny that something I used for comforting myself was something hurting me. Funny how often that turns out to be true.
Fifteen minutes after writing this I realized I forgot to eat dinner. Maybe the memory is not so improved…