Tis the Season for the Holiday Blues

So, you suffer from the shitty Blues during the holidays.

Holiday spells. If you go through them, you know.

What is it like? Oh you didn’t ask? I’m sharing mine anyway.

Imagine an avalanche coming towards you from above you. You watch and know it’s coming right towards you. A lost battle.  All you can do is crawl up into a ball and let the snow crash on your body with all its weight and glory. Granted this would physically kill you. Imagine for a moment, physically you survive. You’re still here but you feel all that weight on top of you and you freeze. Awake, in pain and frozen. You can’t move. You have to wait until the snow melts. And maybe then you can slowly climb out. But until then, you’re trapped. You don’t know how long it will take this time, and you don’t know how bad your thoughts will get. All you can do is wait. Living with PTSD. My past holiday spells.

The expectation? It’s a holiday and break from the “real world”. Be with family and friends. Eat some bomb food. Enjoy the lights and company. As beautiful as it’s meant to be. It’s just not. Guilt if you go places. Guilt if you don’t. All you can hope for is to try to escape your thoughts while time passes. With the weight and coldness of it all.

Why are we so afraid to speak about our pains, fears and anxiety? Time and place for it? We are taught to stay positive and have good self-affirmations. Which work in a lot of cases. But the severity of certain mental illnesses, especially PTSD, calls for something greater than just. Be kind to yourself. And take a walk to feel better.

Sometimes. Most times. Sitting with that pain/fear/anxiety on your own creates a much bigger solution. That of which we all know but are too afraid or set in our ways to admit. That all of us were dealt with the cards that say life can be suffering for the rest of your time here, if you let it. And the only way to survive it is by taming it. Becoming it’s alpha and dictating that yes. We are here together in pain but we have the power to simmer it down all on our own without extra help. Sometimes it’s the only way. To rely on yourself before we can trust to rely on others. Or else your world ends with another’s absence.

To my surprise, after ketamine being the catalyst to my close to cure feeling, some patterns and habits continue to come up. It’s that mental practice that requires strength and understanding to withstand and shape it to the life you want. At this very moment, I feel like that pile of snow is pushing me down. It’s something that must be managed alone because. That’s why PTSD, in my opinion, is the loneliest type of illness. You can’t reach out to people. Fear of harming others so you try to avoid contact as much as possible. Especially loved ones. Then the double pain sets in because you do love them. You just can’t be around. You won’t until you’re better.

I’m here to say that no one knows you better than YOU. You know the game and you know what it takes to keep living. We are the strongest of the bunch and let that be the motivation you need to work through the aches. Each time. Each episode. With the right mentality, will pass. We all know how good it gets at the top of the wave. Let’s enjoy those ups and keep the downs in motion so that we may continue with the flow.







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