Today, when it was time to start making dinner, my partner wasn’t in a good mood. This happens sometimes, to everyone. But what was interesting was my reaction to it.

I’m not good with tension, but I’ve never really analysed my reaction before. Today, in light of the diagnosis of PTSD, I thought a bit more about what was happening inside me when there was tension around me.

I tend to withdraw, and I get very quiet, and try to get on with what I’m doing with minimal noise. I realised that this is a throw-back to my early teens, when it was dangerous to disturb my stepmother if she was moody. I learned to be as quiet and efficient as I could be in hope of not becoming the subject of her ire.

I still do this, and I still feel all the fear that I did back then, even though I know I am safe now. There’s no logic to how I feel and react. I’m safe, I’m loved, and I’m never going to be hurt the way I was back then, but the experiences of my youth have coloured how I deal with my world.


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