PTSD – It’s Gotta Be Residual

I’m outside in the veranda at the Arclight cinema in Pasadena as my twins watch the latest and greatest, Guradians of the Galaxy, composing this short blog at the recommendation of my play partner LavendergirlX. Yeah that’s her name.  It’s a code name, like Star Lord.

I’m in the middle of a mental breakdown (two days now) in a mid-life crises…As my life ends with my former wife Mistress Georgia, I on occasion, with far less frequency, loose my cool. My head aches. My eyes water. I just get into a funk.

A funk is real. It’s s darkness in the mind, like a deep fog in the temporal lobe which overwhelms  any sense of reasonable cognizance.-like a concussion but just two days not two years!  I’m not in a funk because I want her back. Not at all….

It’s just a sense of loss. Sorrow. It’s a residual sadness from my initial trauma in late December when she said, I’m leaving you.

Still I get into a dark state. Really dark. It’s post traumatic stress I think. The stress of my changing life just gets the best of me. 

Namely when I sit alone thinking I may end upraising  my twins pretty much on my own stresses me out….like blurry face.,,.like thinking of 10 years of work at the same time….I have them about 80% of the time now. 

We’ll see, but I’m worried. I think I know her, but I really don’t. She seems to like the responsibility on my shoulders. Sending me cash is easy.  So sometimes I freak at the thought of it.  That’s the trigger for this PTS.  My freak out. 

If you think I’m a loser for losing my shit…  That’s okay,  that’s fair. At least I’m a loser raising my own children, that’s not a dig on her…it’s not. I swear!

It’s an affirmation that I am committed to their well being. 

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