While I did my best to fight it, PTSD still robbed me of my joy.
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Well, I’ve finally done it. I am now a published author – a goal I’ve had since I started blogging with The Road To Mental Wellness two years ago. While it feels good to have something off my bucket list, unfortunately, the joy would be short-lived.
But John, shouldn’t you be happy? Well, normally, yes and at first, I was over the moon. But as fate would have it, my PTSD would end up enslaving me deep inside myself – a dark place that always numbs me with indifference. Sadly, the book pre-order excitement would meet my mental-health condition at the intersection of my life.
While it may be difficult for the mentally well to understand, it nonetheless is a reality. For me, and I’m sure many other sufferers too, it’s not what we want, nor is it a choice we would have eagerly requested Yet here we are.
I am constantly exhausted and sleeping…. a lot.
I mean, who would want to be robbed of the joy that comes with accomplishment? You can call it what you will, I know it’s the potent combination of depression and post-traumatic stress disorder, robbing me of my joy.
The damage.
Of course, with anything in life, I faced consequences for such a combination. There’s the obvious downer, which is being robbed of the joy, in this case, realizing a dream of being a published author. But there are others. Take my personal life for instance; PTSD takes me out and makes me a passive observer in my own story. I know, shitty, right?
This scenario is pretty much where I am at now and for the last three or four days, I have sought refuge from the world in the safety of my bedroom – lasting only long enough outside its realm to promote the book and watch a bit of TV.
But what’s worse, is that this round of illness feels different for me and asking me to produce an answer will yield an “I don’t know”. What I do know is that I am short-tempered and nasty, level-ten nasty. And as if that weren’t enough, I am constantly exhausted and sleeping…. a lot.
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Personally, what’s most problematic for me is the unintentional brunt that my family must bear because of it; I wish I could do better. Someday I shall.
There is something that keeps me going.
When I stop to reflect on this experience, even now, as I fight my way through it, I find myself embracing what I am able to accomplish. Despite being a recluse, even in my own home, I was still able to promote the book Lemonade Stand Vol. III. This, I can be grateful for and use it as a catalyst to move forward, even though PTSD has robbed me of my joy, which I shall overcome.
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