Humo(u)r

It’s not hard to tell you why my legs are numb this time. (Yeah, that’s a thing that’s been happpening.)

—–
I almost just wrote, “O the Wonderland that is my PTSD symptoms!” but I stopped and thought about it. I use weird and/or macabre humor to sweeten the horrible things I’m describing. It is a dry heave before I throw up something rotten. I thought it was because I was trying to make other people comfortable, but no; I think this particular type of humour is for me: I’m not okay and that’s uncomfortable to admit. I’m not okay but Look over HERE! If I’m well enough to make jokes, then I’m well enough to do what I’m told! 

Owwwwwww, that…
…is actually a terrible thing everyone in my family grew up saying and – Yes, it is now a damaging thing I have believed for too long. 

I feeling surprisingly unashamed at this realization. I can actually feel some sadness that I believed it without immediately blaming myself for not fixing everything. That blame was once an impossible to escape reflex followed by a swamp of depression! 

—–

I thought I was going to write about legs. 

—–

G-D, children are extremely vulnerable! 

i.  i was a child.   i  was   v u l  n  e  r   a   b   l     e       .

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