Sleepless nights. Broken sleep. Not being tired. Being too tired. Being exhausted. Not being able to get comfy in bed. Not being able to relax. Unrelenting. Restlessness. Numbness. Emptiness. Overwhelming emotions. Seesawing between elated and anguished. Paranoia. Consuming thoughts. Wanting to run away. Not hungry. Always hungry. Lonely. Feeling safer alone. Thinking you’ve done something wrong. Nervousness. Anxiety. Shaky hands. Sweating. Hot cheeks. Nausea. Stiff neck. Always tensed up. Feeling like a caricature. Sorry that people have to look at me. Feeling like a nuisance. Trying not to be a nuisance. Tummy ache. Headache. Tooth ache. Earache. Overactive bladder. Twitchy left eye. Always ready for bad news. Crying. A lot of crying. Raw. Trying to talk myself out of bad thoughts. Scolding myself for thinking I’m better than I am. Always saying sorry. Defensive. Saying the wrong things. Sad. Aching all over. Coming across rude. Being abrupt. Unable to listen properly. Quick to argue. Incoherent. Minimal eye contact. Loud buzzing in my head. Suffocating. Always second guessing, scolding myself. The same shameful moment playing on loop in my head no matter how hard I try to stop it. Wanting to say how I feel but worrying nobody is interested. Everyone is too busy. Feeling ugly. Disgusting. Stupid. Selfish. Insignificant. Undeserving. In the way. Hopeless. Uncomfortable. Worried. Ashamed. Hideous. Grotesque. Unwanted. Out of control. Sore. Alone. Daily.
That’s what my PTSD feels like.