PTSD and a pinch of OCD equals crazy-making. Today I woke up refreshed, which rarely is the case for me. I came downstairs to get my coffee and sat out back on the patio. The sky was grey and it was raining. I thought, perfect, I can catch up on blogs and possibly finish a couple of posts I had started.
My email inbox was full of new blog posts from the bloggers I follow. I nestled in my chair, looking forward to catching up with all the bloggers I admire and have neglected lately. After reading a few blogs I realized I had outgoing mail that needed to get to the mailbox that we share with other neighbors across the street.
Grabbed the mail, opened the garage door, walked outside and BAMM, crossing the street it hit me. Instantly I became hyper-vigilant, the leaves on the ground. Those stupid damn red leaves all over the road, in my yard and swirling around like a tornado ready to capture me and take me into the its eye.
I pushed the mail into the outgoing slot and ran back into my garage, pushed the button to close the door and was safely in my house, but not safe from those leaves and the memories we share. Red falling swirling leaves are a sign that fall is near and is a huge trigger for me. It means the anniversary of when I was stabbed is nearing.
I sat back at my desk pulled up another blog I wanted to read, and commented on a couple of Facebook posts.
Then it got real nuts… My thoughts went wild: the hummingbird feeder needs more food; I have laundry in the dryer… I must get it out NOW or those towels and facecloths that dried may get wrinkled; I need to windex the washer and dryer, hated hated dust… Oh shit the coffee pot needs to be cleaned – its stainless steel (even though I just cleaned it 4 days ago); Ok got the salt, a cut up lemon, and grabbed hand full of ice. I shake that pot as hard as I can with my secret ingredients to remove any sign of a coffee stain inside.
Now I am sweating profusely thinking about safety, you know those damn red leaves falling swirling are going to kill me.
Checklist time !! Doors are locked. Gates to back yard are locked, first floor windows closed and locked, blinds down and perimeter alarm is set. But wait the chandelier in the staircase has dust, got to dust it… My mind is swirling just like the leaves. I now need to clean the front of my wine fridge, stove and dishwasher. The keys on my keyboard are dirty I should remove them all and clean… Nope takes too much time, right now I need quick gratification – ok sweep the kitchen floor, dust the dining room table, get my trusty Clorox wipes to clean all light switches. Done, done, and done.
All this time, I am thinking of a million more ridiculous tasks I could complete. So out comes the vacuum and I vacuum the garage rugs, throw another load of wash in washer, damn it I just cleaned the washer and dryer, oh well I need to wash those 3 items in our hamper, no waiting until there is a full load, gotta happen now.
The phone rings, its Ronnie in his nice calm relaxing voice, and he asks me, “What are you up to?” I reply, “Not much, just blogging and thinking about finishing a post.” “Ok,” he says, “just thinking of you. I had a break and thought I would call.” Without asking, he knows whats going on, he can most likely hear it in my voice. While we are talking, I am dusting the table covers on the outside patio tables. For the second time in 4 hours. Thank God, I turned the perimeter alarm off before I opened that sliding glass door. We say our goodbyes and I am feeling frantic.
Maybe I should make some lunch and watch TV for a few minutes is my thought. I need to relax. Kumato tomatoes, mozzarella, avocado drizzled with a bit of olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette are my go-to, make-everything-happy food. I turn on the TV to HLN, I wanted to see the update on a trial I have been following… Screech, stop turn off.
My new therapist said no more HLN. I love HLN. I love trials and mysteries and Jane and Nancy with a little Dr. Drew sometimes. But it’s now been banned for me via my therapist. I finish eating and thought I better go take a feel-better pill. You know the ones housewives were addicted to in the 60’s? Usually works every time to take the edge off my craziness.
I decided against the pill and the happy blog post I had started awhile ago that needs to be finished. Instead, I decided it was time to write a post about the here and now. A day in the life of when my PTSD and OCD collide fast and furious.
I have one hour before I have to drive in traffic to get my hair trimmed, I better take that pill…