What you don’t see with PTSD

Last night, me and my husband went to dinner. We used to have dinner out at least four times per week, but since my family continues to cut my throat, I find it peaceful to just stay at home. I love being at home. There has never been any place like home to me, at least the home I made for myself.  Anything I could possibly need is at home, and I’m most comfortable here. My animals love it too! I work from home too, and I’m so thankful for that! I went out last night, for the first time in weeks, besides to my lawyer’s office and court. My neighbors came over the other night for a few hours, and we were talking about beer. They mentioned Miller Lite beer. I could not recall the taste. So, last night at dinner, I ordered a Miller Lite beer. When it came, I tried it. I instantly felt red hot. My face was blood red feeling, like when I get embarrassed. My heart raced faster than it already does, and I felt like I was about to cry. For a split second, I almost bolted from the booth, and took off running. My body tingled all over in that quick moment.  I was glad in that moment, that I am who I am. That I have educated myself enough to be in charge of my PTSD. In my life, I have always been able to get something out of all of my experiences, good or bad. For example, the counselor I saw for two years who diagnosed me with PTSD, he told me of an incident involving one of his other clients one time who had trauma like me in her developmental years. He told me that what made her seek out counseling was that she walked through the perfume area of the mall, and the smell of her abuser, his cologne, it struck her. She passed out, used the bathroom all over herself, and had to go to the hospital by ambulance. Knowing that, my therapy for two years with this clinical psychologist, and educating myself helped me to get control quickly last night. It was the weirdest feeling I have ever felt, and my husband even noticed it. I was so thankful I was able to keep a straight face to him that I was okay, and that he did not keep on. He bought it that I was okay. I was able to calm myself without shedding a tear. I never lost my composure. About 15 minutes later, I was able to convey what had just happened to my sweet husband. He knew it, just like my ex husband knew it when I told him the man who raped me had made a pass at me again at age 21. The smell of Miller Lite last night took me back to my humiliated childhood. My father drank Miller Lite. I smelled his breath in that one sip, and it took me back so quickly to a time that I was so severely abused, by the one who should have loved and protected me the most. My father. He made us feel so unimportant, and stupid. I am so thankful to be so in charge of those feelings.

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