Our bubble

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Wrap your arms
Around me
I’ll pull you tight

Forget our worries
And let our smiles
Light up

Even the very
Darkest spaces
Of night

Let you be my hands
And I’ll be your

And the only
Thing we’ll fight
Is the tick
Of the clock

As our lips lock
And we shut out
The world


Walk Through Hell

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Long lashes
Flutter closed
Hope for
Sweet nothing
But desperately
needed sleep

Insidious memories
along edges
into dreams

Upon flashes
Slash through
The dark

To a moment
Where reams
And reams
Of terror play

Etch lines
Into battered brain
Mock her sanity
Kill any leftover

Of salted rain
And for
The fifteen hundredth
Drown in pain

Power of rain 

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Rain drops
Onto this dark head

Soak into
This thirsty soul

To be fed

No more lies
She whispers
So soft

Here with the rain
Rinse off
This clinging pain

And never
Allow it to seep
In again

Here in this world
Gone insane

Shine the light
Into the beauty
Of breast
And brain

And the rest
Let drip
Right on down

The ravages of PTSD.

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It’s been 4 years since my mind finally broke down and succumbed to the inevitable. I never saw it coming and I certainly didn’t welcome it.

I fought it every step of the way and when the nightmares first started I was still arrogant. This was a minor set back. Nothing of consequence.

I was strong and there was no way something would stop me.

I was partially correct. It didn’t stop me. I still get up every morning (well most mornings) and face the day. I parent, I go to work, I pay my bills and I take responsibility for my life. Sounds like I’ve bested it right?


PTSD has ravaged me. Has made me a shadow of the person I was. Made me jump at every shadow and question whether I can carry on.

I’ve tried talk therapy, cognitive behavioural therapy, meditation, medication, neurofeedback, alternative healing, I could do mindfulness exercises in my sleep, done EMDR, blogged, written poetry, avoided, cried and resisted.

And still the nightmares come. Flashbacks in the dark of night that steal my peace and cause me to enter fight or flight mode much of the day.

I’ve lost a marriage, relationships, friendships, family and more. These are all good, loyal, loving people. None of them wanted or expected this, just like me.

At first, people were supportive. It’s easy to be supportive at first. But then i didn’t get better. I’ve retreated more and more. Closed myself off like Trump’s giant wall to stave off the pain. Except the pain comes from within and every person I lose is like another violation. Not from them, all they wanted was to help.

But PTSD ravages a person. The person directly impacted and every single person who loves them.

And still I get up every morning, more guilt and shame than the day before. Because I’ve failed.

I can hear you now, reading this and saying “it wasn’t your fault Shan”. That’s because you’re loving and loyal, and I appreciate that.

Mental illness is so much more insidious than a physical one. I
Know, Ive had my share of both over the last couple of years.

So please, be patient with those who’ve been distant. They may be going through hell. Know that your love is appreciated.

PTSD ravages a person. More than just one.

Still cracked

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The cracks
In my soul

And I must

There ain’t
Much I can do
But watch

Oh I could
Dump buckets
Of water
From this sinking boat

Or beg
For a break
Press pause
On the remote

But one thing
I’ve learned

Isn’t always earned
And hope
Ain’t sometimes turned

To rainbows
And butterflies

As lies
That I’m A ok
Coat my tongue

And plastic smiles
Stretch for miles

All to make them
Feel better
About things
We can’t control

And still
The nightmare
Row by row
Day by day

As always
To have
The last say

All the while
These cracks
Here in my soul

Never ending

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Constantly swirling
Through inane thoughts

With panic

To be sought

In this crazy world
Where every potential

Is fraught
With peril
And feral fears

Bring cold tears
Where seconds
Feel like years

And answers
Can never quite
Be caught

Always learning 

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Still not an expert
On this thing
Called love

The very emotion
Makes me want
To shove
The words
Out of my mind

Press fast forward
Or rewind
Or erase
From vocabulary

And then
The pleasure
comes rushing in

Like the first sip
Of ice cold lemonade
On a hot summer

Wakes up pink tongue
Reminds me
What it feels like
To be young

But those moments
It just trickles in

A hug
From sticky
eight year old boy

Or the simple joy
Of knowing

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