The downside of a cheerful disposition

is that I don't tend to naturally share the negative side of my life with people. So now I will try to. Because there is one. For every human. etc. etc. Bla bla.

I 'have' (?) PTSD, which stands for post traumatic stress disorder. I think it kind of is, to some degree, a diagnosis of the human state of being. My specific strain is related to Eowyn and I nearly dying while giving birth, and my brother Stephen dying, and to my paternal grandfather's emotionally abusive behaviour, and the unhealthy way my family seemed fine with that. Seemed - in that everyone in the family was/is to some extent deeply hurt by him, and none of us called his behaviour for what it is. What am I talking about? Well, for example, I have memories from childhood where I sincerely believed he was trying to suffocate me to death. It seemed as if it would go on and on for ever, and throughout my childhood and adolescence I'd have flashbacks to that terror, and still sometimes do.

Dear little Stephen died when he was two, Coco's age now, and I have held his dead body in my arms, weeping for my beloved brother. Now, holding and caring for my Coco's body, i have terrifying flashbacks to Stephen's death, manifesting as specific, detailed images of Coco's death. The same thing happened inside my mind when Eowyn was two. It is HORRIBLE and I would really like it if you could pray for me to be free from this fear, as my prayers about it don't seem to make any impact.

Thanks! I know it's kind of weird writing such intense stuff on my blog out of the blue. I was looking at the beautiful autumnal pictures and thinking what an unbalanced perspective of my life they give. And I'd really like to hear your stories - the ugly, secret ones, if you want to share them - (my email is meganady@gmail.com) - and the joyous and the embarrassing and the delightful. It seems our stories are the essence of ... (us?) And story-telling is healing, energising, delightful, terrifying, wondrous...