Trauma

11/7/25

I am going through a PTSD episode because of that 48 Hours show. I need to write what it feels like.

I am sitting here hugging myself, wrapped in a blanket. Trying to feel safe.

I can’t work. I’m on medical leave. Again.

I can’t focus. I can’t leave the house. I’m scared.

My head hurts. Immediately foggy upon waking up.

I am crying.

“You’re always the victim!”

“You’re a zero!”

Get it together. Get the kids ready for school. Show them love. Attentiveness.

I’m praying the Shymanskis don’t sue me and cause more legal fees. I can barely take care of the bills as it is.

I’m alone.

I’m just trying to protect these kids from this evil.

How do they not see it?

The mental anguish is crushing.

My brain hurts. Everything hurts.

Racing thoughts. Flashbacks.

4 days after Joe was killed I dragged myself out of bed. I had to work. If I didn’t work, I didn’t get paid. Everything is being held together by a shoestring. I had to make money.

I’m in heels. I’m at a client’s house. An elderly lady with a sweet home, lace curtains. She has cookies on the table.

I get a call. I step outside. I’m under a clothes line.

It’s the coroner’s office. They are asking where they can get Joe’s dental records. So they can identify the remains.

Why me?

Why is this happening, God?

Hold it together. Make money for the kids.

Vomit.

Pull it together.

Excruciating.

Racing thoughts. I need relief.

Is this how it’s always going to be? I am just completely broken now?

I cannot go out. I need to be warm. I need to be safe. I’m crying.

Please stop.

These people think they know and they know nothing. They are so wrong.

Please stop hurting me.

What do I need to do to be heard?

I have to keep going.

And then God places one of my kids in front of me with needs that only I can meet. And the cycle stops for awhile.