Yesterday, after a weekend spent doing room renovations in anticipation of a new tenant in my house, and in the midst of ongoing grief about a recent relationship change, I woke up in an intensely triggered state. For the record, I have an unofficial C-PTSD diagnosis. I’ll be writing a much longer post soon about what that means; PTSD has made it into the common lexicon and the cultural conversation enough that most people know what it is, but the ‘C’ in front—it stands for “complex”—tends not to be as familiar. But largely what it means for me is that I can easily spiral into states that
In praise of the mental health day
In praise of the mental health day
In praise of the mental health day
Yesterday, after a weekend spent doing room renovations in anticipation of a new tenant in my house, and in the midst of ongoing grief about a recent relationship change, I woke up in an intensely triggered state. For the record, I have an unofficial C-PTSD diagnosis. I’ll be writing a much longer post soon about what that means; PTSD has made it into the common lexicon and the cultural conversation enough that most people know what it is, but the ‘C’ in front—it stands for “complex”—tends not to be as familiar. But largely what it means for me is that I can easily spiral into states that