Submerged.

Today started like so many others; being rudely awoken by the twisted manipulations of memory that plague my wounded mind. A sensation that felt like drowning, forced me to sit forward on my bed, gasping into the air, intaking as much of it as possible. Beside me, swirled heaps, from where I had been gripping the sheets. As I struggled to remember what the dream was about, my mind drew a blank, I could not recall. All I could hear though, besides the rapid inhalations and expirations of my breathing, was the sound of sirens, fading into the distance from outside. Maybe that’s what it was – maybe my mind wasn’t forced to remember at all, but my body was? I don’t know. Either way, it was a hell of a wake up.

I suppose this could be prefaced by the fact that last night, while sitting at my local watering hole, flirting shamelessly with a woman who torments me with her beauty, I became lost in a flashback. Just like that, no warning, no trigger, nothing. Just, gone. Right back to chaos. I am not sure how long I was gone for but, it all ended when that beautiful woman, grazed my arm, and called my name. Those two things, sent me plummeting back to reality. Instantly embarrassed and still a little shaken, I stuttered to find the words to request my bill. I think I ended up just throwing money on the counter, while leaving. And then this morning, awoken the way that I was.

As the days hours progressed, and the walls of my apartment, the ones that chip paint, seemed to get smaller, my agitation and anger grew. I hate days like today; days where I am reminded that Post-traumatic stress is very real, and very much part of who I am.

TV was of little distraction today. It seemed that no matter what I chose to watch, there was some reminder of a call that I had been on, or a look-alike, of a patient that I had seen once. This added to the agitation. I turned everything off and tried to read for a while. The buzzing of a fly contributed to the fact that I was forced to read and then re-read the same page multiple times. This lead to slamming the book closed, and begrudgingly tossing it onto the couch cushion beside me.

I picked up my laptop, and began looking at hotels around Niagara Falls. I was just going to book one, and hop aboard the next departing bus or train, and go. I wanted to squeeze passed the ever-shrinking walls of my shanty, and disappear. Not permanently, just, to get away. I decided against it when I realized that I had a therapy appointment booked tomorrow, and having had canceled once already last week, I felt it would be in poor taste to do it again.

I know there’s no magical cure in the falling waters of Niagara but, I just want to get away. Maybe allow for the sound of roaring waters to drown out the sounds of sirens for a little while…

Ironic, that I awoke, feeling as though I was drowning, and now, my first thought was to book a mini-vacation to a place where the main attraction is – raging waters… (Don’t worry, that’s not my plan – my plan is to heal. And I’m trying).

I will likely take off to Niagara tomorrow, after therapy. Just for a couple days. Save some pennies, and, buy myself a medium rare stake while on a date with myself one of those nights. Stare at a different set of four walls, and not have to worry about ‘adulting’ and ‘normal-ing’ for a little bit. Just, be a stranger to new faces. A tourist, aimlessly sauntering. Maybe even throw a thought or two into the raging rapids, see if they can be taken down stream to somewhere a little more peaceful.

Perhaps, when I come back, instead of gasping for air, I can just close my eyes, press my lips together, and inhale softly through my nose, and let it all go, calmly. Perhaps…

Sometimes, when you feel as if you are drowning, you just need to stop, place your feet down, and feel for ground beneath you. And if the water feels too deep, strop once more, lay on your back, and take a break. Eventually you’ll find the shallow end. Hopefully, I’ll find mine soon but, for now, I’ll just float for a couple days. See what happens.