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Her friends begin talking, shouting, louder and louder, and suddenly she felt it. It started as a light feeling in her stomach. Then it rose, ever so slowly up her arms, across her skin, into her head. Shit. She was beginning to float. She felt like a ghost, leaving her body. She needed to do something. NOW! She grabbed at her necklace, rubbing its smooth and sharp edges, attempting to ground herself. No one seemed to notice her reaction, she must have been pale- she felt pale-because they carried on. She tried to pretend she couldn't hear them, but that was becoming less of an issue, because, she realized, their voices were already drifting off. She felt blackness ebb at the edge of her vision. She felt the oxygen not being absorbed into her lungs. She tried to breathe, but it felt pointless. It wasn't making a difference. She needed something. Anything. She pinched her hands quickly, but the pain made it worse. It gave her this sick, uncontrollable uneasiness in her stomach. And soon, too soon, but too slowly, her vision was black. Her hearing had faded. Everything was too loud. Too bright. She knew that. Could feel it. Even with her vision black- her senses dulled. This horrible, suffocating, blinding feeling was worse than anything she'd ever experienced. She would never get used to the way she lost complete control over her body and surroundings, the way she had to guess what was happening to her. This was nothing like passing out, fainting. When she had fainted before, she had barely remembered it, had woken up dazed and confused, having to put the pieces together. Now, this, she could remember it. Could feel it. Was completely conscious. Could feel time ticking away. Could tell that her body still existed, even if her mind did not. And she waited. And waited to get the chance to come home. To be herself again. What was going on that was so bad that she couldn't bare to hear it? How had this situation gotten so out of control. She had to leave. She had to do something. She felt her body reacting. In what way, she had no idea. She couldn't focus. She couldn't process the air in her lungs.
Then, finally, mercifully, she returned. Dizzy, she found her hands placed against a wall, bent over, hyperventilating, begging her body for air.
"Hey! What happened?"
She wanted to ask him the same question. Then she realized she might have to actually explain what happened. And why. The thought made her feel even more sick. She looked up at him to see his face, but her vision was still blurry, her stomach uncomfortable. When she looked at him, she felt it, deep in the pit of her stomach. It rushed upwards and she hurried to turn her face back to the wall.
She heaved.
It was disgusting, embarrassing, uncomfortable. But she begged her body to throw up her emotions as well. Maybe this time she could get rid of everything with one swift purge. Maybe she would never have to go back to that black space between existence and death.
When she was done, she grimaced. If only it worked that way.
Then, finally, mercifully, she returned. Dizzy, she found her hands placed against a wall, bent over, hyperventilating, begging her body for air.
"Hey! What happened?"
She wanted to ask him the same question. Then she realized she might have to actually explain what happened. And why. The thought made her feel even more sick. She looked up at him to see his face, but her vision was still blurry, her stomach uncomfortable. When she looked at him, she felt it, deep in the pit of her stomach. It rushed upwards and she hurried to turn her face back to the wall.
She heaved.
It was disgusting, embarrassing, uncomfortable. But she begged her body to throw up her emotions as well. Maybe this time she could get rid of everything with one swift purge. Maybe she would never have to go back to that black space between existence and death.
When she was done, she grimaced. If only it worked that way.
I don't really have a name for this piece. If anyone has any suggestions, you're welcome to offer them.
This is a short story without a back story to itself. I just wanted to capture what it felt like to go through PTSD in the moment of being triggered without having to create a story about why it's happening. I think it would be distracting to give it a back story. In the moment of re-experiencing trauma, it doesn't matter why you have PTSD. You don't consciously understand why you're experiencing the attack of emotions you feel. The physical reaction is overwhelming, and, in my experience, I have to fight to refocus myself. So I thought not including any history to the story made it more realistic.
I wrote this while sunbathing yesterday in a park in town. It's a very personal piece- though I only realised how personal later. This is a fictionalized version of some experiences I've been through, suffering from PTSD. I read it to my friend last night and he told me it was a powerful piece. That people with PTSD could relate to and that would make those without PTSD curious to learn more about the disorder.
I'm passionate about bringing people together and helping them understand each other, so when he encouraged me to share it and to read it on my radio show, I agreed. I'm sharing it here and linking to it from my radio show- Sky on the Air (WMCB 107.9 Tues 5-6pm) , if anyone is interested.
I hope you enjoy reading this. Feedback and personal experiences are more than welcome. I'd love to hear from you
This is a short story without a back story to itself. I just wanted to capture what it felt like to go through PTSD in the moment of being triggered without having to create a story about why it's happening. I think it would be distracting to give it a back story. In the moment of re-experiencing trauma, it doesn't matter why you have PTSD. You don't consciously understand why you're experiencing the attack of emotions you feel. The physical reaction is overwhelming, and, in my experience, I have to fight to refocus myself. So I thought not including any history to the story made it more realistic.
I wrote this while sunbathing yesterday in a park in town. It's a very personal piece- though I only realised how personal later. This is a fictionalized version of some experiences I've been through, suffering from PTSD. I read it to my friend last night and he told me it was a powerful piece. That people with PTSD could relate to and that would make those without PTSD curious to learn more about the disorder.
I'm passionate about bringing people together and helping them understand each other, so when he encouraged me to share it and to read it on my radio show, I agreed. I'm sharing it here and linking to it from my radio show- Sky on the Air (WMCB 107.9 Tues 5-6pm) , if anyone is interested.
I hope you enjoy reading this. Feedback and personal experiences are more than welcome. I'd love to hear from you
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