Abnormally Normal

PTSD. High functioning anxiety disorder. Depression.

In my story so far, I've referred to these disorders of the brain as she. I've given them human like traits and asigned them insidious personalities. I've personified the darkest part of my psyche but rest assured, I do not believe these are different people or voices I don't recognize telling me to do things. I understand quite well that each of these things are not some separate entity from me trying to harm me. No, I know perfectly well that they are me. As I am female, so too does my mind see these aspects as female because they are me. They just aren't the good side that I want people to see. 

One throw back to my teen years, developing the talent to hide your thoughts and feelings behind a pleasantly nuetral mask to avoid harm, is also one that I use to this day. I hide most emotions and thoughts behind a mask, a pretend person who has her shit together, who is confident and capable. 

When I'm able to keep this mask in place and not get upset about anything, I am confident and feel as though I could take on any challenge. When the mask slips though, when I get rattled over some stupid thing and lose my cool, that is when things get bad. The team loses a little more respect for me, trusts me just a little bit less. 

Most days, the mask stays firmly in place and I truly feel I might be that strong, feisty, intelligent, friendly woman I pretend to be. But on bad days, the mask slips and a little bit of what is behind it seeps out.

See, in order to learn how to be in complete control of my emotional and physical response to the things happening to me that I couldn't stop, I created a mental box. When I created the box, it was solid and strong, nothing was escaping that box. I took every emotion, every reaction, every expression that was not essential to my survival and put it in that box. I couldn't afford to have these things free. They were too dangerous. But somewhere along the way, the box became less secure. Things that I had held in for so long started seeping out and it is those things that slide past my perfect mask.

Anger, for instance, had no benefit to me growing up. So every time it reappeared, I would shove it into the box. There is a lot of anger in that box.

Trust went in the box too, as did love, sadnesses, jealousy, even happiness. Everything went into the box until I felt nothing. Then I fixed my oleasant mask in place and forgot about that box. 

But like I said, that box isn't as strong as it was. 

I would say that anger was the first escapee and my most frequent. It takes a lot to make me show that I am angry, truly angry, not small flares of temper. Anger escaped the first time when my roommate crashed my car into a bridge. I was understandably furious but my first reaction externally was not anger at all. I checked if she was okay. It wasn't until she asked me to switch seats before the cops arrived because she didn't have a license that I lost my temper completely, although funnily enough I have been told that I sounded frighteningly calm as I threatened her with violence if she didn't exit my vehicle immediately. I sounded reasonable and didn't even look angry or injured (I fractured my kneecap on the dashboard- I wouldn't recommend it.) as I walked around the car and yanked her door open then yanked her out of the car. I wasn't even yelling and I couldn't feel my leg, which by all rights should have made it impossible to walk, as I chased her down and took a few good punches before calmly calling my CQ to request someone come pick me up because my roommate totaled my car. 

It wasn't until I arrived back at base that someone was able to see through the mask enough to realize that I was beyond angry. He moved my roommate to another dorm entirely based on what he saw in my face and heard in my voice, although I did not threaten her in any way, scream, yell or even act angry in his office. Or maybe he realized that something was seriously going off between my brain and body because I still could not feel my injury but he could see that my knee had swollen to the size of a black and blue basket ball and what little he could see of my one cap was nearly an inch out of place. Not sure which, but something tipped him off that all was not well. So while I went to the hospital to get my knee fixed, he moved my roommate out of the dorm. I never had another roommate while I was in the military. Dont worry though. It takes a lot to bring anger out of the box.

The next escapee was sadness, but sadness never really returned to the box once she escaped. I felt it first when I lost my first pregnancy. I was barely 8 weeks along at the time, my husband was deployed and I was far from anyone who could or would help me. I went into his COs office a mess of tears and heartache before I finally found someone who could contact him becaus the Red Cross only helped if the child was lost near or after viability. I dealt with my first loss alone. My second loss, I didn't even know I was pregnant. I stood up and suddenly found myself in a pool of blood, doubled over from the crippling pain of my body expelling yet another child that I would never hold. Sadness makes herself known pretty often and reminds me that she never went back in the box, that she is the younger sister of depression and will wake her sister if I even consider putting her back in the box.

Then love arrived on the day I saw my daughter, alive and healthy on the ultrasound when I thought I had lost yet another child. Instead, she filled my heart with pure joy. She has to compete with PTSD and the gang, so she doesn't come out for just anyone. She built herself a protective home surrounded by thorns and walls to keep the unworthy out. But she accepted my invitation to stay and it seems that she has finally found someone worthy of her other than my daughter.  Time will tell on that front.

Finally, jealousy escaped in a most surprising way. As I mentioned, love didn't come out for my husband. I cared for him to a degree but I didn't really feel love for him. Then I watched in horror as he formed an emotional then physical alduterous relationship with a woman that we both had considered a friend  and jealousy bared her claws for the first time. I was jealous that a husband that I didn't really love was forming a loving relationship with someone else. How crazy is that? I mean rationally, if I didn't really care then it's only fair that he find someone who does. 

Jealously pokes her claws into anxiety sometimes with my current boyfriend too. Sometimes, for no reason at all, I'll suddenly start wondering if he is cheating on me or if he is going to finally realize what a basket case I am and rid himself of the burden of being with me. When I hear him talk to other women on the phone, even though I know the woman is not a threat, I feel that twinge of jealousy that makes me want to shout "he's taken bitch." I never follow through with it, because out of all of the emotions I hid in the box, jealousy is the easiest to control. I can put her back in the box easily. Anger is a fight, but I eventually win every time even if she doesn't stay.

My doctor says it's a good thing that I am finally letting my emotions out, even if it's a little at a time, because that is a sign that I am finally embracing myself. I'm not too sure if he is right. After all, my emotions were what caused me so much trouble in the first place.

Of course, this box does have its value. When I am facing a dangerous situation, whether it is dangerous physically or mentally, I shove those emotions that aren't helpful into that box and lock it tight. This includes the mental illnesses that make my life feel so overwhelming. The latch only lasts for as long as I am in the dangerous situation. Once I am safe, they break loose and wreak havoc, but during the emergency I was calm, logical, rational, and collected. I had complete contro, if only for a little while. Better to survive to panic later than allow panic to rule when things are dangerous, right?

Unfortunately, the box isn't strong enough to hold ptsd, depression or anxiety for long. They always seem to escape. I wish the box were strong enough to keep them prisoner always so I could live my abnormally normal life with more joy.