heatherdrefke

I suffer from severe PTSD and three years ago I went into debilitating flashbacks and I didn't understand what was going on. I was terrified of everyone, even my family and isolated myself, making it worse. The doctors put me on psychotropic medications and it's common to gain weight on these medications. Within two years I had doubled my normal weight. I also have a congenital broken back. The weight exacerbated my pain and put me in danger of needing surgery. I already had one vertebrae repaired through surgery when I was 17. The neurologist insisted I have stomach surgery. I had a gastric sleeve performed November 2nd of last year. They cu

all of this vulnerability in a void.........

I do not like my state of mind; I'm bitter, querulous, unkind. I hate my legs, I hate my hands, I do not yearn for lovelier lands. I dread the dawn's recurrent light; I hate to go to bed at night. I snoot at simple, earnest folk. I cannot take the gentlest joke. I find no peace in paint or type. My world is but a lot of tripe. I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted. For what I think, I'd be arrested. I am not sick, I am not well. My quondam dreams are shot to hell. My soul is crushed, my spirit sore; I do not like me any more. I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse. I ponder on the narrow house. I shudder at the thought of men.... I'