I’ve arrived at the “impending doom” part of my C-PTSD journey. What strikes me is how illogical it is. I’m in no danger. I have good health. I’m employed. Own my own home. From the outside I seem to have it all together.

Yet I’m stuck. Waiting for the next emergency. Waiting for some dramatic event that will cause more trauma and pain. Shaking hands. Breathing shallow. Losing myself in social media in an attempt to calm myself (note: this doesn’t work.) Feeling “out” of myself. Like I don’t exist, only the situations around me.

It’s Easter Sunday.

I couldn’t do church. Not that I don’t believe. Not that I don’t want to celebrate. Rather, I could NOT do church. I’m not ready to put myself in a place of vulnerability. I can’t take the noise and the people. I am unsteady just thinking about entering a place of worship. I know God won’t strike me down or any catastrophe will occur – it’s not reasonable behaviour – still I have something holding me back. More work to do.

I am grateful for a God that accepts this frailty; He understands and meets me where I am.

I used to think statements like this were so glib and weak. Something we tossed out to the suffering to appease the moment; but when you are IN the moment you grab God’s love like a life preserver. When no one else get’s it – He does.